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unstable-bagel · 1 month

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I decided to give this a try since I’ve been wanting to do it ever since I joined tumblr lol

Edit 5/6: originally I was just reblogging this post and adding each day, but I think I’m just gonna edit this post and add each day I do instead. Since if I kept reblogging and adding, it would get extremely long lol

4/22 Day 1: your stats

Age: 19

Height: 5’1/ 155cm

HW: 115lbs/ 52.3kg (not counting pregnancy)

LW: 82lbs/ 37.3kg

CW: ~105lbs/ 47.7kg

Current BMI: 19.8

Current UGW: 90lbs/ 40.9kg

Potential UGW: 85lbs/ 38.6kg (depends on how I feel when I’m 90lbs)

4/23 Day 2: how tall are you, do you like your height?

I'm 5'1 (155cm). I like my height most of the time. I like being short and being able to curl up in chairs, hide in small spaces, take up less room. It sucks not being able to reach high places tho but I usually just climb up on things to reach lol.

I do sorta wish I was a bit taller tho. Like maybe 5'4, 5'5. Cuz then I wouldn't have to weigh so little to be thin. I feel like the majority of non-disordered people don't really know what a healthy weight is for different heights as long as they're in the triple digits. But being so short, I can be double digits and still be a healthy weight, but people automatically think that's underweight. So if I were to actually become underweight, they would already be suspicious.

I hope this makes sense. I'm sleep deprived with my newborn right now 😅

4/24 Day 3: a picture of your thinspiration. What features do you like about this person?

I actually made a post about this the other day!

(Copied from my original reblog, it won’t let me add the pictures for some reason tho)

I know it's not one person but this is my

"thinspiration" (I don't really like that word lol).

I like that they're thin and have flat tummies, but they're still soft. They don't have like rock solid abs, and their tummies arent like caving in. I used to have a tummy like this and i loved it, but that was like three years ago and I'm trying to get it back

Day 4: your greatest fears about weight loss

I have four main fears. 1) I won’t be able to lose the weight I want. 2) I won’t look how I want to look after losing weight. 3) my husband won’t find me attractive anymore and will either cheat or leave me. And 4) I WILL lose the weight I want but I won’t be able to stop and I’ll eventually starve myself to death

4/25 Day 5: why do you really want to lose weight? Are you doing it for you?

I wanna lose weight so I can feel pretty. I want to wear cute bathing suits and crop tops and skinny jeans without feeling like I'm getting judged. I wanna sit on my husband's lap and not have to ask "am I squishing you". I want to finally feel comfortable and confident in my body after hating it for so long

4/28 Day 6: do you binge? If so, explain why you think you do

used to binge a lot, when I still lived with my parents. I wouldn't necessarily say I binge now, but I do overeat sometimes. I think part of why I don't really binge now is cuz we don't have much money for food. But there's a few reasons I overeat/ eat more than I plan.

-extreme hunger from restricting so much

-boredom from being home with my baby all day everyday

-periods of attempted recovery (before inevitably relapsing)

-wanting to make my husband proud of me, since it makes him happy when he sees me eat. This is probably the main reason I eat more. If it weren't for him then I would barely eat

-wanting to enjoy the moment and not worry about what/ how much I'm eating

5/6 Day 7: do your parents know you are trying to lose weight? Do they care?

I don't live with my parents anymore, so currently they don't know. But when I still lived with my dad and stepmom, they found out a couple times that I was restricting. And they acted like they cared for a little bit, but it would blow over usually in about a week and then I could go back to restricting

5/8 Day 8: your workout routine

I've got a two month old so my workout routine is taking care of her

I would like to

have an ACTUAL routine once she's a bit older and can entertain herself longer. I have the routine I used to do saved somewhere but I can't find it right now. I might edit this and add it later once I find it

5/10 Day 9: did people ever make comments about your weight in a negative way?

Honestly, not really. I remember being 7 and asking my stepmom’s mom if I was fat, and she was like “no. But you could try sucking in a little”. That moment plays in my head a lot. My stepmom used to always call me chunky-monkey, which didn’t bother me at first but once I started getting insecure about my weight, it affected me differently. Oh I also remember being 11-12 and saying something to my stepmom about my baby fat, and she was like “that’s not baby fat, that’s just fat” and kinda laughed about it. I only called it baby fat to make myself feel better about it. All that was before my ed, people made some comments after my ed but they weren’t necessarily “negative”, but they did upset me and make me feel a bit more insecure. So idk if those count.

5/14 Day 10: what was the hardest thing you gave up during this weight loss?

I’m not sure tbh. I don’t think I gave anything up really. At least not during my current relapse. During my past relapses, the hardest thing to give up was freedom. Maybe if I had relapsed harder this time then I wouldn’t have freedom but it was pathetic this time and barely counts as a relapse 😂

5/16 Day 11: your favorite thinspo blog and why

I actually don’t have a favorite thinspo. I don’t look at thinspo really unless I’m going through a tag and someone posted it with that tag. I used to but it was mainly just pictures I found where they looked good, it wasn’t necessarily a specific blog or anything

5/21 Day 12: what do you normally eat?

Honestly it depends. Lately it’s been mainly pasta since we’re broke af and it’s the cheapest meal we can afford. Pasta is one of my favorite foods so don’t mind really

5/22 Day 13: are you losing weight in a healthy or unhealthy way?

Well considering this is an ED blog, I’d say unhealthy lol. I would like to lose in a healthier way but right now it’s sorta out of my control since we can’t really afford to eat more than once a day most of the time

5/28 Day 14: what’s your ugw? When do you expect to reach it?

My current UGW is 90lbs. I used to be 90lbs and I really like how I looked. I might drop it to 85lbs once I’m able to reach 90. Since I have a baby now, I don’t really have time to workout, which is a big part of why I thought I looked good at 90. Cuz I worked out. I honestly have no idea when I’ll be able to reach them tho. I’m not able to focus on losing weight at the moment (unfortunately) but once my life isn’t so chaotic, I plan on working towards my goal again

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hedonicghosts · 8 months

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I wouldn't say successful, but we are certainly managing the best we can. (College life, it can get stressful so we only have certain headmates who are able to handle the stress front.)

We're very fictive heavy so whenever a new introject gets here we make sure to remind them that, while it's perfectly normal to worry about source and to be attached to it at time, it's very important to live in the present. It's natural to hang onto to exomemories or to seek out sourcemates, but for all intents and purposes it's important to stay in the present. Find hobbies and other activities outside from source, since at times it can be harmful to be too attached to it.

We try to manage fronting as best as we can. It's mostly making sure which headmates have enough energy to do assignments and the like. We try to make sure that each headmate is able to front and do as they please while they keep up with assignments.

Although it's not entirely perfect. We're still working out the kinks. Just keep your head makes requests in mind and be as respectful as you can. Kindness goes a very long way, so be sure to express it to new and old headmates alike regardless of role.

That's about all I have. Feel free to dm us for more advice.

college life being stressful is so, so real… that's the main reason why we dropped out ;P good luck for you all in it, though!

the tip to live in the present for fictives is………… so difficult (i say, as a fictive) but it is a really good point too. it's nice to hold onto our exomemories and like… being able to say "i'm nocturnal you fuckwit, i'm going to sleep" is a fun excuse to not front, but we do need to have a better understanding of "but you are in a random human's body so you gotta take care of it normally" lol. also finding stuff that you might not do in your source is a good tip actually, and i'm… kinda shocked we never connected those dots? it's really easy to fit into the shitty mindset of "but character!me would NEVER do that so it'd be super weird if i did that" which is… very stupid (/lh) in hindsight.

managing fronting…. oh fuck……… what's that like? that must be nice lmfao. but genuinely, when we were still in college, it was somewhat easier to manage because we had specific alters essentially sign up for which class they'd be willing to sit. but, since we're a #delinquent and #unemployed now, it's more like… everyone for themselves, i guess. we've always wanted to have some degree of "routine" but like… managing that with so many assholes in one head is impossible (shout out to jonas trying to schedule everyone to front once a month back in high school… honorable of him ha). i think we also just sort of struggle with doing what we want when fronting and not what the body wants, if that makes sense? like, obviously, not all of us are artists, so we feel weird when a non-artist is fronting and being "forced" to draw bc the brain is making xyr, yknow?

and i mean, nothing we work out will ever be 100% perfect, that's kinda the nature of being disordered i guess lol, but we're sorta in a place right now where it's like… well, it's functional, but it's not ideal i guess. we've been trying to find ways to better our external communications with each other so we can make an actual physical… list? chart? forum? where we do let headmates make requests and then be able to respect them. but, as it is now, our communication is solely internal and, with amnesia, means it's dog shit.

aaaaanyway, sorry for rambling at each of your points. i really do appreciate the insight you gave us, and i'm going to pin this… somewhere in one of our resources for the gatekeepers to check out. if one of them has questions, they'll definitely take you up on the dm offer! (we suck at dm-ing though fair warning)

#✨#coolcoolattas #not art #damn that post is long as fuck. post it

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ardently-queer · 1 year

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2am thoughts because isn't that why we invented blogs

CN for talk of trauma and mental illness stuff

I remember when my mental illness was extra bad I'd wish I was plural just so I wasn't alone with all this. And I am, sort of, I'm median but I didn't know that at the time to be fair, I just felt so alone and broken in my head. And some really weird people were like, how dare you, how dare you wish to be traumatised. And the thing is like, I *am*. I have c-PTSD. I have personality disorders. I am deeply hurt and damaged in ways I am still only beginning to uncover. But they sorta upheld traumagenic plurality as somehow the Most Worst of trauma.

And my brain's been sitting on that idea for about an hour now so I want to write it out to pull it out of my brain so maybe I can go to sleep. Maybe. Why I had the thought isn't super relevant, don't yell at me, I'm just trying to illustrate how I got onto this thought train.

I think it's arrogant and insensitive to treat one particular expression of trauma as the Most Worst trauma. People think of it like you have to be broken *more* to become plural (incidentally these are the same people who bully non-traumagenic plurals). And I think that's a fundamentally flawed and ableism-flavoured line of thinking. There are so many trauma-specific neurodisorders, you do not acquire one over the others for being broken a certain Amount. (and again, plurality is not inherently trauma-specific).

We're gonna build a mental image as an analogy. It's gonna be a really simple mental image because I'm aphantasic and bad at mental images.

Flat, featureless plate made of some sort of hard material, maybe metal. A lump of gem or crystal, significantly smaller than the plate. Another plate of similar material to the first on top.

When these plates are forced together, different things can happen to the gem in the middle. In the most basic, it either breaks, or it escapes. But the thing is, that's not the end of the analogy. It's a very nice analogy that I like a lot.

What happens to that rock in the middle can be guessed at prior to force being applied: the kind of rock, the shape of it, the material the plates are made out of, whether it's already damaged, as well as just how much force is being applied. If the top plate isn't the same size as the lower plate, it could be applied at different angles to more effectively smush the rock into the lower plate or direct it out at a particular angle. If the rock is a different shape but the plates are the same, different angles can have pressure applied so it either pings out of the vice or breaks in a way totally different to another in the same scenario. There are so many individual, specific details that determine what happens to that rock under pressure as outlined in the initial mental image.

Trauma is a bit more like that. You can see where I was going. It's not how *much* trauma, how much force applied, to make someone come out a specific way, it's so deeply individual with so many determining factors that go into defining how trauma affects a survivor.

Even when you're working with an impossible hypothetical scenario of two identical rocks subjected to identical pressure under identical circumstances and those two rocks break *identically*, those identical rocks subjected to identical trauma can be put back together in wildly different ways. Two rocks that are completely different in every way except that they are both mineral formations, subjected to wholly different pressure except that it's pressure, could be put back together and now look very similar to eachother.

See why I like this analogy? This is a fucking delightful analogy I love 2am thoughts. They're so useful sometimes.

Don't treat trauma disorders as a more/less scenario. You fuck over literally every single other survivor, and you should probably care about not doing that.

#i am applying 'sort of' to my own experience not to anybody else's #abuse survivor #trauma #complex ptsd #mental illness #childhood trauma #2am rambles #i wrote this at 2am #2am thoughts #wow it took 20 minutes to write this i'm so glad it's out of my brain

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thebibliosphere · 3 years

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I had a question.

So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.

Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.

Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.

Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)

So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)

Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.

Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.

So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)

And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.

I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.

Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.

It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.

Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.

That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.

Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.

If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.

I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!

Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.

Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).

You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*

Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.

Brains are fun.

Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.

----

*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!

#adhd #not a doctor #just a sick person with lots of lived experience

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soldrawss · 3 years

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Aight I'm asking.

Any headcanons for the Warner siblings?

You seriously make we wanna protect them with my life, good job!!

YOU ASKED FOR IT! HERES A LITTLE LIST OF HC I HAVE FOR MY Warner Brothers Human au! (note: a lot of this was taken from both the new and old show in little one time gags but I decided to take them anyway and use it for here)

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot are adopted by Dr. Scrathansniff when they’re kids and become his legal wards. (They were living on the streets before, much like how they are at the beginning of Wakko’s Wish). They keep their last name, Warner.

Dr. Scratchansniff is a psychiatrist on a film lot in Burbank for the actors there. He sometimes brings the kids with him when he can’t find a babysitter, and even though for the most part they behave themselves, they are also often seen sneaking off and running havoc in the studios and playing pranks on actors and directors. (Though they can be annoying and they often have to have Ralph the security guard keep an eye on them, they do have a soft spot for the little Warners, and they adore Scratchy, so they tolerate the children running amok with threaded patience and understanding)

That premise being stated, lets move on to some fun facts

Yakko can’t swim

Dot snores in her sleep

Wakko sleepwalks and sleep eats

Yakko is an insomniac, and sometimes the only way he’ll fall asleep is if Scratchy reads him some of his thesis papers on mental health and psychological disorders (which works every time)

Wakko’s deathly afraid of clowns. Like, bone-chilling, heart will stop beating right then and there, terrified of them.

It’s a running gag in the family that Yakko has deep pants pockets, and he just keeps the most random items in there. Bandaids and house keys and chapstick are one thing, but a toy hammer, a miniature head of Dwayne the Rock Johnson, and a bag of salami sticks are on a whole new level of weird. Dot and Wakko find endless joy in the game “what’s in Yakko’s pockets” though, so Yakko doesn’t really mind the weird side glances he gets.

Yakko wants to be a history teacher when he’s older.

Wakko is the most protective of his siblings. Yakko prefers dealing with a disagreement with his words, but Wakko will straight up throw down with anyone who looks at their siblings backward. They’re not afraid to throw a punch or two, and biting isn’t playing dirty when Scratchy isn’t around.

Wakko is, of course, non-binary. He/them pronouns.

Dot is very politically charged always, and often prefers to watch the news channel over cartoons.

Dot also loves to sew. Yakko taught her to sew long ago when they were still orphans living on the street, (Dot wanting to learn to make herself useful since she was too young and meek to do much else to help support them like Yakko and Wakko could, so she took up to fixing their old and worn clothes) Now it’s a fun hobby she enjoys. Wakko is often her mannequin/model.

Dot used to get sick a lot, and still sorta has a weak immune system, even though she hardly gets sick now that she has a healthy and stable life with Dr. Scratchansniff. (This leads to the brothers being extra protective of her)

Dot and Wakko are auditory learners, so Yakko used to make up all kinds of songs in the form of lessons to help them understand a school subject or topic of discussion or just general facts. (Which also ended up instilling in him a love for teaching)

Wakko chews on his hoodie strings when he’s bored or nervous. (Stimming by chewing)

Dot has a green thumb. Yakko fucking does not.

Wakko is a really great cook and has a natural palate and understanding of food combinations, so even though he’s never used a recipe, he can actually just make most things from scratch just by figuring out how they’re supposed to taste and go from there. (His specialty is sandwiches, but he also likes to experiment. Scratchy doesn’t like to dissuade Wakko’s creativity, even if it does occasionally lead to a small kitchen fire or mess, and lets him go ham in the kitchen (safely) whenever the creative mood strikes him, because in the end, most of his stuff does actually end up tasting good.)

Yakko can actually speak Japanese pretty well. He never tells Scratchy how or where he learned it from, which drives the doctor insane.

#human warner siblings #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #warner brothers human au #warner brothers #oh ho look it here #i've made another human au #adds to the growing collection #listen if it's got strong sibling bonds and found family trope #you KNOW i'm gonna make an au about it #i GOTTA #it's in my contract

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pink-moonkitten · 3 years

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To reclaim my future.

I'd like to apologise beforehand that this is going to be a long post. So here is a summary:

"I plan to attend a 12 week course at a adult boarding school/spa stay/summer camp kinda sorta thing with the purpose to get away from home and get a clean slate to loose weight/kickstart weightloss/healthy lifestyle longterm."

First a little bit of background:

Højskole is the Danish word and the concept was founded in 1844 by the priest Grundtvig - he is well known here partly because of these schools but he has also written lots and lots of psalms. He was also a philosopher and teacher in his time.

The højskole was intended as a more social construct, you'd live at the school and have various social activities such as singing together in the morning, often the teacher also lived at the school. At least the first two still holds true and I think the last one too.

The approach back then was more about religion, but also philosophy and other more ordinary subjects. The Danish wiki writes: "hvor eleverne mødte frivilligt for at få trangen til at "lære sig selv og sin Gud at kende" tilfredsstillet." Translated: ... where the students showed up by their own desire/free will to satisfy their need to "get to know themself and their God"

The religious aspect has been taken out now u nless you attend a school that advertise specifically for this. But they still have the element of self development.

So what is it I'm going to do:

The højskole, I'd like to attend has two "lines" you can pick from, one is "well-being" aimed at those who has gone through big life changes or may be standing at a crossroad in their lives. The other, which I'll pick, is "lifestyle", it aims at health physically, but also very much mentally.

There will be mandatory classes specific for each line,but also some electives where the two lines will mingle. Since this school deals with our health and wellbeing most the electives reflect this. But you can also find a class for dance (learn to waltz or foxtrot maybe ?), and other creative classes (one of them even has a more philosophical angle into "what is creativity and how can you express your own).

And of course more obvious things like cooking/food, mindfulness, yoga, HitFit, QiGong and more.

The school provides 3 meals per day, at the lifestyle line at least we'll get taught how to eat appropriately and how to determine how much and which, they also provide 3 in between meals/snacks. We will also have classes to help us understand what is it with carbs, why is protein important, are "light" products good or bad and what does it mean a product is "light", anatomy and how sleep effects the mind but also weightloss.

So my reason to do it like this is because I live alone and have my eating disorder. I need to get away so I can't just run for a snack or order in, or just grab some food in the fridge.

I want to be in an environment where this is a positive thing, where I can get encouragement and also get those little extra pushes to do a little bit more.

I think of it a bit like when my bestie, who self harms, knows things are getting bad and to avoid actual self harm might sign herself into the psychiatric hospital, for the help and refocus of the mind, in a calm place.

The højskole has courses of various lengths, 6 weeks, 12 weeks, 18 weeks and 25 weeks. Ideally I'd like to attend the 18 or 25, but with my social anxiety and introvertness I think it could end very bad. 6 weeks isnt long enough to really make a change in my life, so I have settled for 12 weeks, starting 20th February.

I'm not signed up yet, I'm trying to see if I can get some financial help to pay for it. But if I can't my parents have said they will pay and while I'm gone I'll pay them back as I wont really be spending money on much anything else. The price is 1800dkr/242 euros/280$ per week.

#personal #eating disorder #ED #weightloss

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failing-to-write-again · 4 years

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Sakamaki Character Analysis: Cuntdelia's Children

continuing on to Cordelia's kids now. Again, they all need help in some form. Although full warning they aren't my favourites so I may not be as on point as I feel I was with Reiji and Shu.

Ayato:

So Ayato has a god complex and a narcissistic streak, why is that any why does that mean he needs the special care? Well his mum was abuisve, that's a fact. In the games we hear mentions of physical punishments as well as emotional manipulation, gas lighting, and all that other horrid stuff. Ayato is a ball of insecurities stuck in the way his mother forced on him. He has to be the best because she said she has to, and as a defense mechanism due to her constant criticism he developed his "I'm the best call me Ore-Sama" thing.

Now a lot of fanfics just see you the reader make fun of the ore-sama thing or be too depressed to even care about it, and lemme tell you why I don't think they'd actually the best thing for him. So let's say your mother, a primary care giver, puts you down all the time and makes fun of you. You grow up isolated and constantly feeling you aren't good enough but don't have anyone to talk to so internalize it all and put on an act. Then you get a person trying to date you or befriend you that does exactly what your mother did. Now when I put it like that do you see why the whole "pfft whatever oreo-sama" thing won't actually help. You'll end up dead when he snaps I'll bet money on it.

I think Ayato needs a partner who won't pander to him but won't put him down either. So when you don't want to make him takoyaki say "Not right now, I'll do it when I'm finished this level in Mario. Wanna play with me Ore-Sama?" don't say "Go do it yourself oreo-sama. Wait do you seriously not know how to make it? lol."

Furthermore push him safely. Ask for help making the takoyaki, start small with a "hey I can't reach this pan and you're super tall can you help?" as to slowly built up to "hey will you mix this sauce for me as I prepare the meat? I'll tell you what to add the ingredients are all there." I feel Ayato would benefit from this as he'll slowly realise he's learning how to do things. I think a big part of why Ayato struggles is that he was told he needed to be perfect first try and so he gets disheartened easily. Home boy needs compliments and you to not bring attention to his mistakes. Just be like "oh that's fine you can add more salt if it'd too sweet or sugar if it's too salty."

This goes for everything too he's gonna need someone who slowly teaches him, and trust me the day he realised he's learning he'll be greatfull, he won't show it much at the start but over time he'll get better. Like remember when Ayato slept with Yui in the anime? Sorta like that happens and he whispers a thank you when he thinks you're asleep. Then it slowly becomes a thing of if he knows it's just you and him in the room he won't be against putting his head on your shoulder when he needs some love.

When his grades improve you better make him takoyaki and suffocate him with hugs and compliments because he needs that to be a more open and better person.

Laito:

Laito is a hard one, because I see many s/o for him written as anti-sex who won't give into him, or those who give in whenever and I don't think either would fully work.

If you meet through a one night stand obviously you're never going to get in. I think his best chance would be a classmate he sits beside often, potentially a sacrificial bride but I'm kinda meh on that. He needs reliable no touch love before moving on to anything. So let's say he noticed you doing a crossword before class one day (it's canon he loves em) and he helps on a word or something. Now response here is everything, no swooning and "omg Laito-senpai sleep with me" crap but also don't ice queen it. Hearing "I don't want to sleep with you leave" will shut him out from you forever. I think something akin to "Oh thanks Laito, I didn't know you liked crosswords you seem pretty good at them." Now let's break this down as to why this works best in my opinion. First off you thanked him for something that had nothing to do with physical touch in anyway, second you complimented him but not on his body or skills with said body. Instead you showed appreciation for his brain. And finally the "I didn't know you liked crosswords" gives him an opening to start discussing interests other then sex.

Laito was sexually abused and I think as a result it'd need to be slow and steady with things. So holding his hand and not letting him touch the boob just yet shows you don't want sex you want him. Talking to him about things like fashion means he can do his perv on the girls for a bit before slowly toning down and starting to talk more on the outfits. He will definitely be sleeping with other people at this point, you're not dating at all. I think he'll slowly begin to appreciate the routine of having one person in his life he doesn't need to give his body to, and he may just open up about the abuse. I think being supportive and gently saying something like "well I'm not a professional so I'm not going to be much help, but if you decide to talk to a therapist I'll be there every step of the way for you." BE HIS CRUTCH.

I think he's the most likely to consider and maybe even go to therapy before dating you (I think eventually all the boys would be convinced to start going). I think it would be in therapy where he realises the fact he wants to be near you all the time isn't lust like with other girls but it's love. I imagine he'd be like "It's weird because I want to be with them all the time but fully clothed and eating macaroons or watching movies, not [the following is censored for a good reason]

I think Laito has the ability to be a great partner if he can deal with his abuse and PTSD from said abuse.

Kanato:

Kanato is a tricky case. He definitely has bipolar disorder or manic depression or some serious mental health condition past just PTSD or depression brought on by abuse. So I think he'll need medication and an actual therapist although getting him there is the hard part.

Firsts off toss the "Yeah I have a Teddy too and love sweets as well let's be 5 together" fantasy out the window, especially if the file up sentence to that is "I also like killing people, we're both crazy". Also you can't be a sacrificial bride, you'd be dead or he'd ignore your opinion.

I think maybe if you went to a therapist for a less severe issue (anxiety or something that doesn't make you STAB PEOPLE WITH FORKS) then maybe if he was following you or picking you up and had a meltdown the therapist would actually help him through it which will be like a "omg I don't have to scream to feel better" moment for him I think.

So from there he goes to therapy. He's still childish in his likes and stuff but he doesn't kill people or keep his weird ass dolls. You need to set some ground rules. "No I'm not going to make you cake unless my homework is finished and that's something I have to stick with. Remember your breathing, the longer you shout or be angry the longer you'll end up waiting for cake." Wear his pretty dresses and be nice to teddy and all that good stuff. But set limits. I see Kanato is pretty asexual, like I don't see him as the kinda guy to want sex, I don't think he's against romantic feelings for someone but I don't think he'd have sex with a s/o.

#kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers kanato #diabolik lovers laito #diabolik lovers ayato #diabolik lovers #sakamaki brothers #cordelia sakamaki

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idealnreal · 4 years

Text

Maruki palace overanalysis part III

Thanks to @appleyjuiceboy for helping with the insanity, and @goalexstark for requesting. Part I, Part II. Really long post ahead. Lots of feels.

Back into the palace monitoring room, the cables are gone. From this point on, we will encounter six journal pages, four memory rooms, and three will seeds. According to Morgana, Maruki likely never intended the memories to be seen. Will seeds are mini treasures -- aka sources of distortion. While the journal pages, like all diaries, are meant to be private. We have come to the depths of his psyche-- perhaps manifesting beliefs that he is not fully conscious of, or tries to keep hidden from others. And in this second-third of the palace (starting from the cables to the garden puzzle) we also see his systematic view of the world in full force. This will be a long post.

So starting with this first part, we come to a dimly lit corridor with similarly dimly lit rooms full of filing cabinets and mini monitoring rooms with circular stations. In one of the filing cabinet rooms, we find the first journal entry. Before we get into the text, it’s interesting to note that the journals are signified by a mess of papers strewn about, with the metaverse logo sorta watermarked over it. We will see the same sort of mess again in the memory rooms. For someone who is quite calm, organised and systematic, these messes always signal something important or emotional for him. One can imagine Maruki, flustered and upset, searching for something, throwing the papers around.

The first journal entry is found sticking out of some filing drawer. The text is as follows:

“ Feb. 2. Tomorrow is Rumi’s birthday. I’ll be meeting her parents … My hands have been shaking an awful lot lately. Will they let their daughter marry a low-level researcher like me? Now I’m getting even more anxious… When I told Rumi how nervous I’m getting, she just laughed and said I think too much. She may not have understood my problem, but I do so love her laugh. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with my nerves like this, but I need to lie down anyway. I’ve been getting the worst headaches lately… I might be pushing myself too hard for this thesis. I just really want to be in top form tomorrow. I know this diary was originally just for research notes, but now I hope I can look back at it with Rumi someday and feel nostalgic.”

When Maruki set the February 3rd deadline, he said that this was the day “ I lost everything that mattered to me,”. Rumi and her parents were attacked on the night of her birthday, and on the night they announced their engagement to her parents. The night that was supposed to be happy and full of hope for the future became the worst possible night of his life.

Maruki seems to suffer from some anxiety -- but of course any person would have nerves before announcing an engagement. He’s worried that he isn’t good enough for Rumi or her parents. That they wouldn’t accept him as a son-in-law, or as part of the family because of his occupation and standing.

It also seems that even at this point, he has started to awaken to his persona, with the headaches and shaking hands. This is interesting because within this game’s logic the person needs to have at least some interaction with the Metaverse and have a will of rebellion to awaken to their persona -- or to even start awakening to it. He was already working on cognitive pscience at this point, and he was aware of the potential benefits of it’s use -- as a form of psychiatric therapy. He was already rejecting the status quo of life and of his field -- there was another way, a more effective way, to heal people. And it’s also possible that this note is hinting that he has had some fleeting interaction with the Metaverse. Afterall, we see that people who first enter the Metaverse experience headaches. But the game doesn’t give any more hints on this.

The second journal note is also within the same area, near what looks to be some kind of video tape archive. The note reads:

“ Apr. 9. I just can’t believe what’s happened. I’ll never see Rumi’s parents again… I don’t even know if Rumi will ever come back to me. Her heart’s been completely closed off ever since that day. Why did this happen? What did Rumi do to deserve this? Do we really have to go on suffering these consequences? My headaches are getting worse -- I’m even starting to hear things. Am I having some kind of breakdown? I can’t lose it … I have to do something to help Rumi.”

This entry is dated two months after the incident. We don’t see any entry in between, or any hint or any other expansion into what really happened during the incident. As far as we are told by Maruki himself is that it was a burglary that killed two people and maimed a third. Which to me, is highly suspicious. Burglars would not kill, not even when they are desperate. And it’s even more unlikely in Japan with one of the world’s lowest murder rates.

We know for a fact that Maruki tends to lie or wave away details when it comes to his own past and own feelings. Like when Ryuji asked him if highschool is when he first found romance, and when Maruki said that he and Rumi just broke up because he was ‘spineless’. I suspect there is a lot more about this incident that Maruki isn’t admitting to us-- but neither the palace nor the game ever explains it. (I have a theory, but that’s for another day).

If there is more to it than a burglary, it’s very likely that he’s suppressed it so much and hid it away somewhere that we never get to access. It’s also telling that all references to the incident are all in relation to Rumi’s pain and how it was she who suffered that night. He never even admits that he too lost something that night, and is still suffering from the trauma.

So the two months between the entries as well as the opening two lines, also signal that he was indeed traumatised by it. It’s not hard to imagine that in those two months, he couldn’t process what happened, and even by April, he still questions accepting reality. He also thinks that he’s having a breakdown -- and one doesn’t need to be a psychiatrist to know that when one starts having auditory hallucinations, it means something is really wrong in the brain department. Of course, we can infer that these hallucinations are Azathoth trying to manifest, but as far as Maruki knew, he was indeed losing it. But he forces himself to pull it together, to suppress this pain and to hide his symptoms, for Rumi -- and for his research.

It is likely that he avoided getting help or admitting that he was suffering from migraines and hallucinations. The chances of his research being funded, accepted, and published, all hinges on his reputation as a researcher. And unfortunately, as much as Japan has come a long way -- it is still detrimental to any professional to be diagnosed with a mental disorder. We also know that at this point he was already looking for funders and backers for his research -- reputation becomes everything.

We come to a room that looks like a server room, and this is where his first will seed is. The server room is a mess of tendrils and cables -- while the door itself is barred by a holographic lock, and some branch-like tendrils. The ‘flower’ looking textures that surround the door are holograms again of what looks like circuits.

Voice tracks will usually play upon opening a will seed door, which is usually the palace ruler reinforcing their distortion, and Maruki’s voice track is one of the more audible ones. The tracks will play randomly for each door, so there’s no order to things. Thanks to Jester for making out what they say:

“R-Rumi… I-I…”

“No matter what I need to do… I’ll reach my goal.”

“What can I do to make you understand?”

“What’s wrong with an alternate reality if everyone is happy?”

“I’m so close… just a little further…!”

“Just a little more… and everyone will be happy…”

“Why… why can’t we come to an agreement…?”

The man is tired, and he’s pushing himself to keep going. Some of the tracks are also questions, probably in response to Joker and the Phantom Thieves, trying to reason with them.

Moving on from this, we find more monitoring rooms, with lots of screens, cables, and glass floors that look down into what looks to be server rooms. The rooms are typically dark, illuminated only by the neon teal lights and screens.

We also then come across the first locked gate, with an authentication question. The fact that these gates require the intruder to at the very least know some parts of his past -- signify that he does want people to understand him and where he’s coming from, as uncomfortable as it is. This is especially important given how closed off he was about his past prior to this-- represented by the fact that the only way you can get these answers is watching memory tapes that, according to Morgana, are likely memories he has tried to suppress. Speaking of which…

Before we go into the memory itself, I want to note the design of these rooms. As highlighted before, messes like strewn paper, disorganised shelves, represent something emotional or upsetting for him. And no better is that demonstrated than in these memory rooms. Papers are strewn, filing boxes and books are stacked haphazardly, filing baskets and stools lay toppled. There is no clear organisation or consistency in these rooms -- and it looks as if someone had come in, thrown everything around, as if searching.

These rooms look very old-school research rooms and are lit only by an old CRTV -- in direct contrast to the high-tech aesthetic the rest of the palace has. And most of all these rooms look abandoned and forgotten. These rooms hint at the core of his self -- before he became obsessed with healing the world, the self that was confused and lost after the Incident.

It’s also interesting to note the fact that his memories play on the very small CRTV -- while in comparison earlier Sumire’s memories played on a wide screen LCD TV. He puts even more distance with his own (grainy) memories than the memories of someone else.

Okay, now we get to the first memory tape.

It starts off in Rumi’s hospital room. And from a later journal entry, we know that this is at least sometime in August, which means its been six months since the Incident, and four months since Takuto began to write in his journal again. Rumi is in a catatonic state, and it seems that she is somewhat responsive -- even if she can’t speak or move much.

Takuto is trying to cheer her up by suggesting that he bring her snacks and flowers. His tone is cheerful and gentle, knowing that Rumi can understand him -- but is simply unable to respond or speak. He knows she’s traumatised, so much to a point that she’s too scared to move. He’s trying to show her that it’s safe, and most importantly, that he’s there for her. Being an empath, loving her as much as he does -- this would’ve been incredibly painful for him. But for her sake, he tries to smile.

He then goes into telling her what’s been going on in his life, and explaining his research and how he wants to use it. From this, we know at least one of the first uses he envisioned for cognitive pscience was to stop crime before it’s committed, by changing distorted cognitions that lead people to doing bad things. He wants to make sure what happened to Rumi would never happen to anyone else. This is perhaps going one step further than what the PT are doing. Yes they’re both stopping criminals, but in Takuto’s conception -- it’s stopping crimes before there are any victims, rather than waiting for victims to be created.

He also tells her that there are some potential investors into his research, and that theres a chance that research into cognitive pscience will be properly funded. He’s excited for it because it is the first step to bringing cognitive pscience into real practical use. This also hints that at least for the past few months, he’s been working on his research again -- and trying to hide his symptoms (re: hallucinations, migraines) because he’s actively looking for funders.

He tells her that the ‘culprit’ has been caught and that she doesn’t need to worry anymore. He then mentions ‘Family’, and Rumi responds to that, repeating ‘Family’, then ‘Takuto’. As far as we can tell, these together seem to be her triggers -- and she’s sent into a PTSD episode. She yells for her parents to be given back, and cries out for them. Takuto tries to calm her down, but is unable to until the nurses arrive and (probably) sedate her.

This is another hint that the Incident was more than a simple burglary -- and somehow Takuto was more involved in the Incident than simply a bystander who couldn’t protect her when the burglar ‘was trying to escape’. And it’s also suggested that during this Incident, Rumi’s parents were being held -- perhaps as hostages?

I have a theory that the Incident was really more of an attempted assassination of Takuto -- very likely by Shido (who we know does know of Takuto’s research). While we don’t know the exact years the Incident took place -- from the journal notes, we can safely say its AT LEAST two years prior to the start of the game. I would go further to say that this was before Wakaba’s death or even Goro’s awakening, because it seems that Shido doesn’t yet have the power to cause mental shutdowns. And because of that, he’s would try the old fashioned way to shut Takuto’s research down.

However, instead of killing Takuto, Rumi and her parents suffered. It’s also interesting to note --IF this theory is true -- why Takuto was left alive. But thats pure hc territory which i’ll leave for another time.

Also another hint to support this is basically other hints that Takuto -- like Sumire-- suffers from survivor’s guilt. He even mentions it when speaking to Joker and Goro in the beginning of the palace. It’s also hinted by the fact that Takuto has managed to change Sumire’s cognition so drastically that even he was surprised. This was because of how she spoke, and how she suffered from intense survivor’s guilt. But i’ll get into this more when we get to the third memory tape.

The doctor explains to Takuto that she was triggered, and Takuto knew that it was his own words that triggered her. He apologised for it -- and muses that she needs to be ‘set free from that horrible tragedy’. It’s at this point that his migraines return and he hears a voice. Then, Rumi starts to speak, “Takuto … Please… Stop this. I … Want to… forget,”

Rumi made her wish, and Takuto began to understand how exactly cognitive pscience can make that possible. And again, he hears the voice, clearer this time -- enough for him to understand and respond to it. In that moment, desperate to put an end to Rumi’s pain, to fulfil her wish -- he agrees to Azathoth (perhaps forming a contract and semi-awakening to Azathoth). In the Japanese audio version, he actually screams this part. Oof.

In an instant, her cognition is changed and she wakes up as a different Rumi -- a Rumi who’s parents had died when she was young, who lived with her grandparents, and therefore, a Rumi who has never met or grown up with Takuto. She’s forgotten everything that caused her pain before.

Takuto, shocked at this, begins to fumble around for a cover story -- trying to explain to this new Rumi why he was in her room and why he knew her name. Despite the dawning realisation that she has truly forgotten him, he tries to be cheerful and plays it off when she shows concern for him. He would do anything to make her happy, and anything to preserve her happiness, even if it is horribly painful for him.

The interaction ends when Rumi asks why he won’t be visiting again and “what about your girlfriend?”, and he replies by “She … passed away,” In this moment, Rumi’s portrait disappears from the text box -- signifying a stark break in Takuto’s perception of her. The Rumi he knew and loved really has passed away, and this -- he convinces himself-- is another Rumi. A Rumi that he must not see again.

He stands to leave, telling her that he hopes she feels better soon and “ I know the people who care about you wish the same”.

So for him, just as his life was starting to get back together after the literal worst night ever -- just as his research was starting to get funders -- he loses his fiance and long time love. This follows the same pattern as before, where the night of the incident was supposed to be a happy night where their engagement is announced, followed by a horrible attack and murder (possible assassination attempt on his life too). But that’s allright, hes NOT in pain!!! and suspicious of any good thing that comes his way!! because now, she can be happy. And that was more important than his own happiness!!!

Oof. Okay this got long and heavy. Gonna end this here ! Stay tuned for part 4.

#grief tw #depression tw #takuto maruki #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #(( me: looks at this post #(( i've outdone myself my insanity over this fictional character has officially gained sentience #(( no but really theres SO MUCH PAIN HOLY SHIT #p5r spoilers #f: notes #c: the self #(( RIP to my brainrot

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rhinotheamazing · 3 years

Text

One Side, Two Lives

Chapter Three

First Previous Next

Hello Brother Dearest!

Warning: mention of eating disorder, swearing, and Remus being Remus

What a wonderful morning. Not. Roman rolled out of bed, literally. He groaned as he got up from the floor and wandered around his room. It was early, maybe around four or something, he honestly couldn’t care too much. Being the ego really sucked sometimes, because if Thomas was feeling horrible and like he wasn’t worth anything, Roman might as well have caught a bad case of the flue. He had woken up with a sore throat and such a stuffy nose that he could barely breath.

“Why, just why must I be the ego?” Roman complained to no one as he messed with his already crazy hair. He sighed, guess I better go get some kind of medicine. He was so out of it that he didn’t even try to conceal his appearance to any others that might be up at that time.

He walked out of his room and lazily walked to the main room. Although the sides did have their own bathrooms and medicines, all of Roman’s was pain pills and and antidotes for different poisons. You’d be surprised what he finds on is adventures, Remus doesn’t exactly know the meaning of “harmless creatures”.

Because of this, their was a bigger medicine cabinet that was open to anyone, Logan made sure that this was put it to place a while ago when Roman came back from a a small adventure and was severely poisoned and out of medicine. To say that he gave some of the others a scare would be a bit of an understatement; though he didn’t really know any of this since he was out cold for the next three days.

When he got to the main room he was a bit surprised to see the anxious side sleeping on the couch curled up with his headphones still on. He was snoring softly and Roman, even sick, couldn’t help but smile at him. He’s like a little cat, so cute. Roman grabbed a blanket that was on one of the other seats and and carefully used it to cover the smaller side.

After that he went over to the cabinet and got the medicine labeled “ego boost”. He hated taking these, they weren’t supposed to lessen depression, they sorta just put Roman in a state of neutral at times like this, supposedly if he takes too many Thomas will think he can do literally anything, and that would be incredibly dangerous. He sighed as he took only half of the small pills, this should lessen his symptoms while still keeping his mental state the same.

After taking it he went back to his room and laid down in his bed. He needed to to get to work but he was just felt so dead right now, he could take a a little break right now right? Your so pathetic, can’t even work though a little cold?

“Shut up you asshole…” and Roman was out like a light.

He woke up a few hours later with a start when something large and stinky jumped on his bed.

“Who goes there?!” He said, a sword materializing in his hand. Not a second after two daggers met his sword.

“Hello brother dearest!” The owner of the daggers shouted. Roman squinted in his lightly dark room and made out the shape of an insane smile and green eyes. He groaned and flopped back onto his bed.

“Hello Remus.”

“What’s wrong Robro? Usually you start yelling at me already for being on your bed” Remus said in a concerned voice. Roman, who had previously had his arm draped over his head, looked up and saw that his brother had mud splattered on his shirt and pants, which was starting to get on his bed. Once again he groaned and without being able to think of a more polite way, he simply kicked his brother of his bed to stop any further damage to his sheets.

“I’m sick Re, its not very fun” he complained to his brother. The green side was about to jump back onto the bed when Roman shot him a glare that could kill. Although he could probably get away from his brother in the state he was in, Remus decided to do the nice thing and snapped away his usual outfit leaving him in some shorts and a green tank top that had the image of a broken heart on it, after that he jumped back onto the bed and laid next to his brother.

“Is this because of the debate from yesterday? Ego a little low bro?” Roman just gave a small nod to tell his brother he was right. He hated being sick, but he had to do something or else he would defiantly feel worse tomorrow, at least emotionally. He sighed as he sat up and walked over to his work desk, if he was a little wobbly he wouldn’t admit it. He looked over the many projects he needed to finish but his mind could barely register any of them.

“You know as much fun as it would be to see you fall on your face five times trying too work, I think you should sit down.” Remus said forcing his brother to sit back on his bed.

“I’m going to go grab you something to eat and if I find out you tried to work I’m hitting you in the head with my morning star. “ he said before he left his brother in his room.

He quickly rose up into the dark sides part of the mind palace and grabbed a couple of snacks. A bole of popcorn, a few juice boxes, two apples balancing on his head, and finally a stick of deodorant stuffed under his arm.

As he walked back to Roman’s room he was careful to avoid the others. He wasn’t afraid of anyone, he was creativity, one of the strongest sides, but he wanted to make a big appearance soon and he didn’t want to spoil that by one of the light sides seeing him.

Once he did get back to his brother’s room he saw Roman trying to sneak his way over to his desk to work. Not having any of this, Remus stuck out his foot and tripped him, summoning a pillow so that he wouldn’t hit his head to hard.

“I told you not to move, you’re sick and you’re not going to be good for anyone if you don’t take the time to get better.” Roman sighed in defeat and got off of the ground, though he was tempted to just lay there and fall asleep.

“Fine, you win Re, but what the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime? You know I hate doing nothing.” Roman said as he flopped on the bed.

“Well you can start by eating,” Remus said, and just before Roman could interject he continued , “I know you haven’t eaten anything today so don’t even try to lie to me.” Roman faked offense, “I would never! I’m the heroic prince, I would never lie.” He said with a smile. Remus snorted at that.

“Yah, and I’m as strait as a ruler, we can do this all day Ro” he retorted. The siblings where used to small squabbles, it was just how they were, honestly it would be concerning if they didn’t get into some kind of argument already.

After their little argument, they decided to have a movie day. Roman of course voted that they watch a Disney movie with a good bit of action, Remus on the other hand wanted to watch a horror movies with lots of gore. Compromising, they decided to to watch an animated DC movie of Remus’s choice that had enough people getting killed to satisfy him.

They were having a fairly good time all in all, but unfortunately for Roman it did not go unnoticed that he wasn’t eating much.

“I swear Roman if you don’t start eating more I will stab you in the gut, one time for every meal you missed.” Remus scolded his brother. Roman rolled his eyes saying that stabbing him wouldn’t be any better for his health, Remus said it would remind him to eat regularly.

“Look Remus, I know you worry about me and I worry about you, but I promise you I’m fine. I don’t go a day where a don’t eat something.” Roman said. It was true, after a very heated argument with his brother a few months ago Roman had made sure to eat a little something each day, even if that something was just a handful of grapes.

Remus sighed, “I know brother but with how much you go adventuring the little amount of food you eat might as well be nothing.”

“Hey, you go out adventuring as much as I do and you eat deodorant for breakfast.” And accidentally proving Roman’s point, Remus took another bite of his favorite flavor of deodorant before glaring at his brother.

“Maybe but you know I eat three meals a day even if those meals aren’t the healthiest. Come on Roman, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.” Remus said with the softest look he could muster. Roman sighed in defeat, he hated making others feel bad and being a burden on them. Maybe if he just played along he could convince his brother that he was doing better.

“Okay ok, I promise I’ll do a better job of taking care of myself, what kind of prince would I be if I make others worry for nothing. Can we move on to a different conversation now?” Roman said starting to feel uncomfortable as they continued to talk about his flaws. Remus, sensing his twins discomfort smiled a smile that was a bit to wide and moved onto something else.

“Ok Ro, what have you been working on recently?” Remus said, he knew full well how much Roman like to tell about whatever project he was on. To his immense surprise Roman sighed heavily and flopped onto his back.

“I’ve got a few things that I’m exited to get working on, but currently I’m just feeling a bit overloaded with having to come up with whatever we’re doing in the next Sander Sides video” Roman complained. He only ever complained to his brother since he knew that Remus would figure out what was bugging him wether he told him or not.

Remus considered this and walked over at Roman’s desk that laid on the other side of the bed. There were papers thrown everywhere on it and some of them had a small red x in the corner which he could only guess meant ‘scrap it’ considering his brother’s perfectionist mental state.

I really need to help him work on his self esteem, the self conscious bastard. Remus thought to himself. Well, he couldn’t do much now, but maybe he could buy his brother a bit of time.

“Hey Ro!” He suddenly exclaimed, makingRoman jump a bit. “I’ve got a great news. I was planing for it to be a bit of a surprise but whatever. I’m going to introduce myself to Thomas in the next video!” That got Roman to pay attention.

“Really?! Heck yah! No offense to the others but things will be way more interesting with you around!” Roman was as exited about the idea as Remus. They always had to be careful with their meet ups because of the whole light sides and dark sides thing, but if Remus introduces himself to Thomas it would make a lot more sense if he just popped up in the lights sides area every now and then.

“Of course things will be more interesting, its me where talking about” and just to emphasize his point, Remus plucked off his head and held it under his arms, wearing a smile the whole time. Roman gaged at the display and warned his brother about getting blood on his carpet, even though he himself had done so many a times. Once Remus screwed his head back on, literally, he sat down and explained that he was probably going to give Thomas a light nightmare and then show up when he asks the others to appear to talk about the dream.

Although Roman was not a fan of scaring Thomas in any way, it sounded like a fairly good plan. It would give reason for Remus to appear and Thomas was already having some trouble sleeping thinking about the missed call back and all.

“Sound like a good plan brother, but Thomas is already having nightmares quite often so your probably going to want to make a move sooner than later before we discus the nightmare problem.” Roman said. Remus nodded a bit, understanding the reasoning.

“Alright, he has to make some kind of video two days from now right? Ill just show up the night before so that he makes it a Sander Sides.”

“It’s going to be hard to pretend like we hate each other.” Roman said, the two have been putting up a charade of hatred for each other their entire lives, but it was a lot harder to act like you hate someone when you’re around them and just want to act like siblings.

“Yah, but it should be fine, it can’t be that hard to act like I want to kill you.” Remus said playfully, but he made a mistake in that moment, he shoved Roman in the ribs.

Roman hissed in pain and put a hand to his side. Remus pulled back, that was a really light hit, but he acted like his ribs are- Remus’s face turned into a scowl as he figured it out.

“Roman…” Roman froze at his brother’s voice. Well, I’m screwed. He slowly turned to his brother with a nervous smile. Even though they were the same height Remus seemed to tower over him and Roman knew he was not getting out of this one. “Hey brother, something the mater?” Roman said, his voice shaking and still keeping up his smile.

“Did you get hurt and not tell me dear brother?” Remus said with one of his creepiest smiles.

The two usually helped one another when they get hurt, so when either of them didn’t tell the other, someone got a very harsh scolding.

“Um, maybe? I just went for a walk in the imagination and got hurt a little bit” Roman said rubbing the back of his neck.

“How badly?” Remus asked.

“Oh, not very badly, just a few broken ribs.” Roman answered looking anywhere but his brother. Remus, still smiling like a maniac, put his hands to his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in.

“HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU SUCH A FREAKING IDIOTIC MORON!” Remus yelled as he shook his brother back and forth.

“I thought I could handle it! I just fought the manticore chimera for a bit and got nocked into a wall. But after that I came right back and wrapped my ribs and got some ice so I’m fine now!” He stated as he tried to defend himself.

“That doesn’t mater you idiot! First of all, you shouldn’t have fought the manticore by yourself you asshole! Secondly you should have come to me when you got hurt! What if it hadn’t been a clean break and a piece had cut up your insides or something!”

“That’s not how humans work!”

“That’s not important right now! You should be resting for a lot longer than one day! Your sick and you have broken ribs! That is a very bad combo!”

“Look, I didn’t mean for things to go as badly as it did, I wanted to blow off some steam and I was off my game a bit.”

Remus sighed heavily.

“Look Roman that’s not the point. How would you feel if I got seriously hurt and and didn’t tell you?” Roman thought about that for a second, he figured that he would probably scream at his brother for getting hurt for an hour of more.

“I guess I would yell at you until you couldn’t hear anymore.” Roman admitted. He thought that he could pull of the act to not make Re worried, but it looked like he failed at that as much as everything else in his life.

“Look, just, come to me when you have a problem. We both got issues and we need to deal with them. It’s better for us to put them out into the open instead of trying to hide them and us finding out later.” Roman sighed and agreed with his brother.

“I get it, if I get hurt this badly again I’ll go to you for help” Roman said, crossing his fingers behind his back. “Can we move onto a different subject now, I could really use a break from real life for a while.”

“Not quite yet brother, you have to promise me you won’t be doing too much until your ribs are at least partially healed.”

“That’s going to take at least three weeks before they are completely healed!”

“Just get some medicine from Logan and take some of your ego pills, you’ll be good in a two weeks tops” Remus said.

“Maybe but we have to do a video before then remember, it was your plan.” Roman pointed out with an annoyed scowl on his face. Remus seemed to think that fact over a bit, then you could practically see the lightbulb appear over his head.

“What if I knock you out for most of the video?”

Roman’s brain short circuited for a minute. “What?”

“Just listen. I could pretend to hit you in the head with my morning star and then you could just pretend to be knocked out for the rest of the video! You can get some sleep and rest while it gives me a more dramatic appearance, its perfect!” Roman did not think this was the best solution they could come up with, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get Remus to change his mind.

“Fine, if you really think this is the best option.” Roman said. He couldn’t help but give a small smile when his brother lifted his arm in the air proclaiming victory as loudly as he could. The rest of the day the two went over the plan and Remus’s song to make sure everything went right. Roman smiled as Remus started singing “Forbidden Fruit”, I guess having a manic for a brother isn’t so bad.

Finally! I been dying to start writing for Remus. I hope all the people with brothers or sisters could recognized the fear of getting in trouble with them. Well, that all for now humans, have a lovely day, bye!

Tag list

@lovelivingmydreams

#creativitwins #roman sanders #remus sanders #duke sanders #princy sanders #virgil sanders #pride!roman #sander sides #thomas sanders #mention of gore #slight mention of eating disorder #my writting

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hongjoongpresent · 3 years

Note

Hi, Dani. I would like to know how to properly write psychotics since the way the media portrays them is very ableist and I think psychotics deserve good representation.

Oh. Uhhhhhhhh ive never been asked for help or anything like this before?? Uhhhh man idk. Disclaimer: im stupid and dont know anything about writing. Also: i only have my own experiences with being psychotic and i obviously cant speak for every single psychotic person lol.

Ok uh. I would say try to avoid a split personality serial killer trope. Please PLEASE dont do what danganronpa did to toko thats all hah. Also try to avoid pulling a korekiyo? So basically. Try not to literally tell your viewer/reader that "this person is strange and different meaning this person is creepy and i dont wanna be around them" which i felt was sorta the goal with korekiyo (SORRY FOR USING DANGANRONPA EXAMPLES BUT ITS THE BEST I GOT OK)

Ummm ok *thinks* fun psychotic things TM definitely include (at least for me! Ntot everyone obvs):

Spiders or bugs under your skin. Im pretty sure this is basically universal for psychotics since ive seen MANY PEOPLE talk about this. But its a very common delusion where it feels or even sounds like there are bugs or spiders under your skin (yuh its terrifying XD)

That one hallucination dude that just kinda stands in the corner?? Idk he whispers a lot (like. Speak the fuck up or SHUT the fuck up real.) And he doesnt really have a face or anything he just kinda stands there and either comforts you or insults you (its like being in a toxic relationship but its literally in your head so you cant leave <3)

Hyperfixations on people. Of course many many MANY neurodivergent disorders include hyperfixations, but im talking PEOPLE. I have trust issues. But when i do truly trust someone OH BOY i be thinking about them CONSTANTLY

Intrusive thoughts. Many people can have them sure but ive never met a psychotic person who didnt have intrusive thoughts. Think of things like. Stabbing someone. Randomly pushing or punching someone. Hitting someone with a chair. Kissing or even having sex with someone. (Literally anyone. Ive. Literally had intrusive thoughts about having sex with teachers. Not even attractive teachers or anything just. Normal people.) HOWEVER keep in mind... we dont usually ACT on these. Its not like "o i had a thought about stabbing my brother im gonna dtab my brother now".

PROBLEMS SLEEPING!!!! Because of reasons like. Thinking about the future or an idealized version of the future, thinking about what the Real World would be like once i leave this fake world. Or because the walls are breathing (why do they do that lmao?) Or some random hallucination decides to talk to you out of nowhere. Stuff like that.

Nothing feeling real. Life is a simulation and nothing matters anyway. Everyone in this world is not even really a person. Theyre just computer generated to make me believe its the real world but i know its not. Everything revolves around me this world is built around me. Everything that happened before i was here is just made up and never actually happened. Or at least it didnt matter. Im the main character in this video game.

Auditory hallucinations!! Theyre the worst tbh. Screaming, random crying, mean laughter (why is it never anything fun ughhhh). Usually, i try to ignore auditory hallucinations by listening to music with my earplugs in.

Man sorry for making this post really long but. Im not good with advice?? These are purely my own experiences!! Just. Try to avoid making them the butt of the joke or the Weird Unlikable Character TM.

#actually psychotic #tw hallucinations #tw simulation #tw derealization #tw intrusive thoughts #tw spiders mention #tw bugs mention #ask #discowonderlandposts #I HOPE THIS IS OK??#i made an attempt #long post #(sorta?)#tw sex mention

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entitycradle · 3 years

Text

A Tree Without Wind

Content warnings: mention of, discussion of, threats of, and plans to commit suicide. Panic attacks, disassociation, and paranoia are described, sometimes in detail. An eating disorder is alluded to. Characters are horny for each other but there’s nothing sexually explicit.

I promise the ending is hopeful. I genuinely am not trying to trick you, I know what this sort of thing is like, I want to respect your capacity while still being truthful to the experience and allowing tension in the story. If you’re in the right place for it, click that button.

A TREE WITHOUT WIND

I was nine years old the first time Phoenix told me he was going to kill himself. Is that too brutal? Sorry. It's where this starts. We were outside, in the morning before it got too hot, kicking around a ball in the scrubby grass. We used the long shadow of the I34Q tower to make the rules--you can't use your hands if you're in the sun, that sorta thing. It was fun because the boundaries of the shadow were always moving with the shape of the tower, and because the tower was a little scary. Phoenix lost a game and just said it, frustrated, "I'm gonna kill myself." I laughed.

When I was that age I loved looking at the shadow of the tower, because it made so much more sense than the real thing. You'd look at the dark, fuzzy stain on the ground and you could imagine it was some sort of antenna, or house, or marker. But then you'd look at the structure itself and your eyes would glaze over trying to figure it out. Unevenly rotating, stacked polyhedral structures, dark gray but covered with a rainbow film like an oil slick. Irregular pieces would be transferred between different sections with no apparent pattern. It smelled like someone you'd never met. The tower was doing something but no one was ever clear on what. That's how it is with I34Q stuff, I think.

I'm stalling. It was some stupid shit, he must've picked it up from some awful caster or something. As a kid Phoenix liked that sorta thing. He'd watch videos of mean people cursing and laughing and he'd laugh with them. I preferred my cartoons, or the I34Q casts, as weird as they were. Later I repeated what he said when I found out my dad was making squash for dinner, "I'm gonna kill myself," and my mom told me off pretty hard. Kept me from saying it again, at least in school and at home. Phoenix kept at it though.

- = -

Phoenix and I got put in the same dormitory when we went to T-school. Do they call it T-school in other places? It's the thing where 4Q tanks (as in I34Q) come and take a bunch of eleven-year-old kids to stay at "training" facilities. No one I've asked knows what T-school is actually for, same as the towers, same as all the 4Q stuff like I said before. An organic shape attached to the ground heads a classroom, gibbering except for the occasional english sentence (Phoenix said he also recognized some Cantonese). Mrs. Lough, who apparently also lives in the facility, tries to teach "formalist english," which is like english but the rules contradict themselves. You take notes on the behavior of a tank filled with inky fluid for four hours a week. One day a three-legged machine packs up your stuff and shepherds you to the gate.

I was ejected a year and a half after Phoenix. I went home on the bus and met him at burger king that afternoon. I caught a glimpse of him from outside. His hair was in long, tight braids. I felt self-conscious about the uncontrollable smile growing on my face. "Aco!" he said through a grin as I opened the glass door. A green poster advertised a meal made from "water beads," an I34Q plant thing.

"Dang," I said, grinning as I sat down. "Dang."

"You make it out? Fuck you to 4Q?" He'd stopped eating to greet me. His grin looked as uncontrollable as mine. Phoenix's nose was wide and flat, also like mine.

"Fork you, 4Q." I still felt nervous about cursing. I was fourteen. "How ya doing, Phoenix?"

"I'm good, I'm good. High school is interesting."

"Oh, man..."

"It's actually like, fucking nice to understand what's happening. But now there are actual smart kids and you actually get punished when you, y'know, mouth off. I'm like, I gotta get around to--" He swiped with his hand, bent his neck, and made a cracking sound with his mouth. I laughed. "Don't worry, I'll show you around. Maybe we'll have a class together."

- = -

We did have a class together. High school with Phoenix was fun, because I got to have a proper crush on him. Pining, sexuality, youthful obsession, yards and yards of it. It was weird, we kinda drifted--Phoenix hung out with kids that I was afraid of, I hung out with kids who played too many videogames. As our familiarity waned, I started seeing him differently. A foreign, adult desire began to penetrate me, replacing childish affection. It took me a while to realize that's what was happening.

It was a shame our familiarity waned, though, because Phoenix was really struggling, and I didn't see it. His friends were mean, when they weren't outright abusive. Not a lot of people liked him. I learned later that he started hurting himself when he was sixteen. Little cigarette burns, and then cuts. He got put on meds at seventeen--the wrong meds, for a year. He went to a psych ward when he was nineteen. His family did not have the money to pay for an extended stay. I still don't know exactly how that worked out. I do know he went into debt after his second stay two years later.

I wasn't doing too well myself, after I hit twenty-two. Something in me broke I guess. So when Phoenix told me he was going to travel to the Santitos digger and throw himself off a cliff, it didn't take me very long to ask if I could go with him.

- = -

"I... I didn't..." He paused for a long time. Ten seconds of silence feels unbearably long in a conversation, and I was quiet for fifteen. My teeth held each other tightly as his thoughts whirled. "I didn't..." He looked me in the eyes. There was an intensity to both our gazes. He'd stuck his jaw out, just a little. "I guess I did. I was, kinda, hoping you'd say that."

"Fuck," I said, looking away and down. "Fuck." I put a hand over my eyes, gripping my face as tears came.

"I'm gonna die," he said, beginning to smile and looking up. I felt the discomfort I'd felt since we were nine.

"Yeah, I wanna go, I wanna go," I said, pulling my hand away midway through and looking back at him with a force I didn't recognize.

He looked back at me and said, "I'm gonna die, and you're gonna die with me."

- = -

The Santitos digger is in northern California, in the Redwood national park. People have figured out the basic idea of what the digger is doing, unlike the towers or the T-schools: the digger is making a big hole. I'd heard that in some places it had dug more than a mile, almost straight down. Don't ask me how the digger would've done that. Don't ask me why it's called Santitos, either, since it's pretty big and not very saintly. Maybe it was the name of a town. Getting to the digger from Prince George County was about fifty hours.

"I figure we could do it in three days if we really fuck-you-pushed-it. But I'm planning on five." I craned my neck to look at Phoenix's cracked phone screen, where he'd pulled up the route.

Gas is expensive because 4Q takes most of it. Basically no one flies. Even in Phoenix's hybrid, it would be a thousand dollars to get to the west coast. But it's not like we'd need the money afterwards.

"We'll eat along the way," he continued. I bit my thumbnail. "I'm not picky, we'll just stop at wherever they won't run us out of town."

We'd sleep in the car. It was April, so temperature wouldn't be a concern. I packed a change of clothes, a water bottle, my meds, and a box cutter I'd stolen from my last job.

The next morning, he pulled his blue, dented '38 prius in front of my apartment building. I saw the car arrive out the window. There was an anxious pit in my stomach that deepened when I opened my front door. I didn't want anyone to see me. This is it, I thought, this is it, this is it. I repeated that phrase down the stairs. My landlord could fucking charge rent to my corpse, I could give a shit. This is it, I thought. That final T stretched to enrobe me. The sky was gray and wet. The sensation wasn't enough to rip me from my inwards reverie. I was about to get in the back of the car when Phoenix spoke. "That ain't it."

He was leaning out the window, regarding me coolly. "Morning. Shall we go?" I walked around the car and got in the front seat.

- = -

Virginia is beautiful once you get into the mountains, forested and rolling. I told Phoenix, "Once I read the Appalachians are millions of years old, and used to be taller than the Himalayas."

"No shit. Was there like an Everest? Where's the old Everest?"

"I don't know, I never heard anything about that. But yeah the continental plates looked totally different. And then things changed and the rain and wind and plants broke them down."

"Hah. Fucking awful. Just being broken down like that. I mean, it's better than what 4Q did to Everest."

I was quiet for a moment. "That's... the worst thing they did, right?"

"I dunno, dude, I think taking kids from their families is worse."

"No, right, right. But like... Everest was like... like everyone knew about Everest. When I was really little I had this big book about mountains and I read the bit on Everest so many times. And now it's like... they made it about them. And people lived in the Himalayas before 4Q came! It forced everyone out and carved a bunch of nonsense into it. A forever reminder that we're below them."

"Hah, literally. Hmmm. I still wouldn't say worst, but, I get what you mean. I'm so numb to it. It's good some people still care." Phoenix shrugged. "I mean I dunno. It doesn't matter much to me, at this point. But from an outside perspective it's good."

That first evening was alright. I drove Phoenix into a beautiful sunset. You hear the phrase "rode off into the sunset" and you think, what a nice ending, but it's not really an ending. If you're the cowboy you keep riding, and eventually the sky darkens and you have to set up camp and eat and sleep and wake up the next morning and eat and go riding again. A feeling of dread and desperation fills me when I think of surviving alone like that. Maybe I'd get used to it. The trip to Santitos was an attempt to write a story with a proper ending.

We didn't stop until we crossed into Illinois. We parked on the shoulder of a country road. I used the light in the car to look at the atlas we'd bought for when we didn't have cell service, and laughed. "We've been in five states today. Pretty good. Keep it up and we'll have visited every state by June."

"What the--?" Phoenix snorted, laughing. "You mean if we visit five states a day. Asshole."

I always giggled when he snorted and called me an asshole. "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Fucking dumb. Doesn't even work. You'd have to wake up in a different state than you fell asleep in." He caught my eye. The smile felt intimate, mutual. Born of sleepy exhaustion from a shared journey. I looked at the divot between his nose and upper lip.

I realized something. "Shit, I forgot to bring a blanket."

"Poor baby. You cold?"

"Hmm. I guess not really."

"Oh, you know what I do have..." He leaned towards me and reached toward the back seat. I watched his shirt stretch over his chest. Phoenix retrieved a big gray sweater. "Feel free to stretch it out."

My fingertips touched the back of his hands as I took the bundle. I did that on purpose. His skin was warmer than I expected, as skin always is. We tipped our seats back. Not the most comfortable, though the sweater would help, hopefully. I checked out Phoenix to see him on his side, looking at me and smiling. I let my own smile relax into me as I watched his eyes. His irises were a rich, beautiful brown. His skin was the color of cardboard in your childhood memories. I loved the way his smile wasn't symmetrical, wider on one side than the other. I carefully resisted scanning my gaze down his body. I actually saw his eyes flick down my form, instantaneously. His eyelids half-lowered, and then, horribly, what seemed to be a great tide of sadness overtook him. I watched him hold it back. I watched his smile mix with growing grief and fear, then bow to neutrality. He covered his gaze with his eyelids, breathed in, breathed out. "All right," he whispered, then opened his eyes. The gaze was gone. "Time to sleep." He sat up and turned off the light.

The sweater had a very particular, subtle smell to it. I guess it was his smell. I was desperately horny, yet blasted to pieces. A heady mix.

"I think I could fall in love with you, if things were a little different." He broke the silence, fifteen minutes later. "I probably would. But I'd cling to you like a fucking baby. And you're here, right?" He paused. For a response? I didn't give him one in time. "That's what I mean, codependent hell. I'd only be alive for you, and you'd only be alive for me, and then the second anything goes wrong we'd be right back here except I'd, fucking, direct all my shittiness at you... and you'd blame yourself."

I was quiet. "Ain't... ain't being codependent better than dying?"

"Hah! But that's what I'm saying, it doesn't change anything, it just leads us back here."

I fumbled for something. "Yeah but if it could... like stave it off..."

"Why is that good? The world is fucked, Acoatl, totally and truly fucked. Things don't get better from here, for me, for people. Should I beg? Stay here in misery out of some misplaced sense of morality? We're doing the only thing that makes sense."

I stayed quiet, not unconvinced. Sleep came, eventually, uncomfortably, anxiously.

- = -

The International Astronomical Union provisionally called it 8I/2034 Q1. I had to look that up. The eighth interstellar comet discovered, identified in 2034. I don't know what Q1 means. The name was briefly changed to 8I/Pasarati, for the research group that had discovered it, but by that time I34Q was clearly accelerating non-gravitationally and on an Earthbound trajectory. 8I/Pasarati is still in orbit, technically. You can see it through a telescope, it's like five miles across. But I34Q is the name for all of it, the craft that came to the surface, the life it brought with it, the structures it built, the war, all the consequences. No one can make any sense of it, except the one thing everyone knows: something else controls the world now.

- = -

I just barely remember waking up to switch seats in the morning, and then desiring nothing more than to return to sleep. Eventually Phoenix nudged me awake. "Hey." We were parked somewhere in Missouri. I'd slept all the way through the night and Phoenix's turn to drive. At least twelve hours, depending on when I actually fell asleep last night. I'd missed the big arch in St. Louis.

Phoenix was curt and reserved as I drove. I thought he was still thinking about last night, or angry at me for leaving him alone on his drive. Then he tilted his head back and began to gag. "My... heart..." Tears streamed down him face.

"Phoenix." I glanced back and forth between him and the road. There were abandoned cars on the shoulder; I couldn't pull over. "Phoenix, Phoenix, um."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, stop." He bent, heaved, and emitted a yowling, harsh retch. Nothing else left his mouth. "My heart..." He was breathing hard. A panic attack, I realized, stupidly too late.

"Do we have..." Panic attacks can be interrupted with certain intense sensations. The general goal is to increase awareness of the environment, focus the mind on the current moment rather than the future or past. Holding an ice cube can help. There were no ice cubes. I reached into the back seat for my water bottle, which would at least be cool. A truck behind us laid on the horn. I swerved back into my lane. "Sorry." Phoenix dry heaved again. It was a uniquely distressing sound.

I searched for the hazards, feeling useless. Far too much time passed before I found them and started slowing down. A different truck laid on a different horn. I was able to slip in a gap on the shoulder between an abandoned pickup and a rusting minivan.

I led Phoenix onto the tall grass beyond the asphalt, where he collapsed onto all fours. His torso flexed as he heaved. I put a hand on his back. "Phoenix, look at the trees." There were bushy, broken trees lining the sides of the highway, a vibrant green against the blue and white sky. "The, listen to the road." No, the road was stressing me the fuck out. "Listen to the grass waving, feel it." Stalks crumpled in his fists. I twisted my head and saw the tip of an I34Q tower peeking up over the treeline. "Look, a tower, just like when we were kids." Over the next few minutes, his breathing slowed, his heaving stopped. But the tears stayed. He sobbed away the panic. I read somewhere that tears actually contain different chemicals depending on the emotion causing them. Something to do with hormones I think.

He apologized to me. I would've done the same thing. I've done the same thing. So I got it, but felt indignant at having understood--he didn't need to apologize!

We got back on the road and listened to static on the radio. Sometimes the edge of a station would pass by, and we'd get fuzzy country, or christian rock. I changed it whenever there was a sermon. Sermons always come back to 4Q and they're always awful. The 4Q broadcasts are actually better than sermons about 4Q. They're kind of like static, anyway, totally unintelligible. We encountered more of them than I expected. Maybe static itself is a 4Q broadcast. I don't think that's right, I think static is like cosmic background radiation. But maybe 4Q has changed it somehow, like it used to be white noise and now it's blue noise, a different random distribution but still random.

"I'm off my meds," he said, as we rolled into darkness. The moon was a crescent, low on the western horizon. He spoke flatly and calmly. "I didn't even bring them with me. I thought you should know."

I hesitated. I wanted to voice this diplomatically. But then, we'd be dead in four days, anyway. "Is that why you had the attack?"

"No. I panic even on meds." That made sense. I remembered a few times in the past year when he'd canceled an event with little notice, or left early. "But I'm not a person right now, and that's definitely because I'm off my meds."

"You're not a person right now?"

"Yeah. It's called depersonalization. Also derealization, which is when nothing is real. Or that's how it feels, as I'm told. It's pretty freaky if I'm honest. You don't get the same emotional reaction from stuff. It feels like you're watching from somewhere else." He wasn't looking at me. He was looking down. "You're not you. You're not even real." He whispered. "Pretty freaky."

"Can I--do you--"

"Ahh, I'm coming out of it. Some of it is just recognizing that you're in it." He drew a knee up to his chest and shook his head. "Uhh, could you. Could you hold my hand. Touch helps."

I gripped the wheel with my left hand and held his palm with my right. It was warm and sweaty. I wish I could say that was okay. I felt miserable. I wanted to feel happy, holding his hand, comforting him. I didn't.

Sleep came quicker that night, though still uncomfortable, still anxious.

- = -

I slept late, again. I hadn't touched the chicken sandwich I'd gotten from a drive-thru last night. It had awful 4Q stuff on it anyway. I hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, so I was pretty hungry, but I had no actual desire to eat. I'd deal with it later.

My own panic attack must've seemed similarly unbidden to Phoenix, though I felt it coming about an hour beforehand, and tried to stave it off. We were on I-80, driving through the hypnotizing flatness of Nebraska. Every ten or fifteen minutes I kept seeing this scarlet structure. It was like a giant, bloody caricature of a water tower, a skinny, triangular column maybe ten feet across and at least two hundred feet tall, supporting an enormous squashed sphere more than twice as wide as the column was tall. I'd watch it rise from the horizon, far too big. I'd never seen them before but guessed they must be 4Q. I started thinking we were somehow traveling in a loop, that my sense of direction was faulty and we were passing the same structure in the same field over and over again. Then I started thinking about how crazy that sounded. But I couldn't stop the thought.

I wanted to pull over but I couldn't stop anywhere in view of the structure, because it was watching me. Of course it wasn't, but I couldn't stop the thought that it was. Hell, maybe it was. Maybe only the mad can decode the purpose of I34Q stuff. I felt how hard I was breathing and glanced over at Phoenix, wondering why he hadn't said anything. He was staring down. He was probably disassociating again, I realized later, but at the time all I knew was that I was alone.

I get angry at myself after my attacks. I feel so stupid. Phoenix apologized to me that night, which made me feel even stupider. I couldn't wait to get to the Santitos digger.

- = -

The next day was bad. Quiet, lonely, and frustrated. A further reminder of the reasons. I saw patches of 4Q purple grass climbing up the Rockies. We both took long shifts and entered Redwood park just after midnight.

- = -

I read a story once about a man that was falling in the dark. He was falling so far that he would die instantly when he hit the ground. He realized that his brain wouldn't have time to process the impact, or even the few moments before. And he couldn't see the ground. He couldn't see anything. All that was left in the world was him and his death. I wondered if Phoenix had read the same story, and was hoping for a similar effect, coming here at night. Of course, we got it wrong. There were clouds, burgundy with light pollution, and every few minutes a star would gaze through; an unearthly glow was cast up from distant pieces of the digger.

Some parts of the digger looked like the towers, spinning and shifting. Some parts looked like exposed microelectronics, cables sutured to shiny terminals of minute complexity. Some parts were just made of asphalt blocks, cream-, gray-, and lime-colored pebbles tightly embedded in dark tar. Distant redwoods, many damaged by fire, ringed the horizon. The Santitos digger was less an object and more a place.

I felt wordlessly close to Phoenix as we scrambled over asphalt, looking for a pit. We touched each other frequently in our effort, to assist, to communicate. We'd have to give each other boosts, lift each other up, look for alternate routes. This place was not made for people.

Finally we came upon a deep canyon. I had half a mind to walk off the edge immediately. But both Phoenix and I stopped to regard it.

I couldn't tell if the rumors were true. You could only see maybe a hundred yards down before the walls of the abyss disappeared into ink. Or, not ink--not blackness, either. People are black. This was something else. The most prominent features were the semi-perceivable red blotches left on my optic nerve after gazing at one of the digger's glowing sectors. The unknowable told me nothing. It just revealed the flaws of my being. Maybe we would achieve our effect after all.

"This is it," I said, elliptically. The beginning is the end. If you take out the 'h' that phrase is a palindrome. "That was the first thing I said out of the door before I got into your car on Saturday. If you take out the 'h' the phrase is a palindrome. The beginning is the end. This is elliptical. This is it."

"That ain't it." He was regarding me coolly.

I laughed.

He was angry. "Are you fucking kidding me? The point of this thing, the whole fucking point is you do it in your right mind. You're letting your madness make the decision for you. You have to make the decision!"

I found that extremely funny. I laughed harder.

"Shut up! Fuck!"

"What's a right mind?" I asked, still grinning. "There's no such thing anymore. Even when it was a thing, all it meant was the most socially-acceptable, capital-promoting mind. Now? The world doesn't fit us anymore. The human condition is inconvenient to its purpose. 4Q can't even train us. The right mind is a dead one. You want a right mind, go ahead." I gestured at the abyss. That's what I did.

He stepped forward. He stepped forward. A foot hung above the end.

I don't know what I would've done if he had lowered that foot, changing his balance, tipping him forward. Jumping in after him wouldn't have felt right. Maybe I'd have gone back to those red eyes in Nebraska and begged for them to torture me. Maybe his idiosyncrasies would have been repelled by the unknowable, flowing away from his body and into me, and I'd be lost forever in a derealized paranoia. Maybe I'd have gotten in the car and driven back home.

His foot remained, hanging, the edge a gallows. "Suicide is about pain. It's the ultimate response to ongoing distress. I never wanted you to be normal. I just didn't want you to be in pain. In a twisted way, I guess I thought, if this was your way of dealing with pain, I wasn't going to stop you. That is your right. I feel like that has to be your right." His balance was incredible. He remained still, a tree without wind. "But you can be abnormal, you can be a bad fit for the world, you can be utterly broken, and you can still live without pain." We're both crying. Tears descend into the pit.

| ' , |

I do think madness is the right way to understand I34Q. I feel this mysteriously. I wonder what it would be like if I tried going to T-school while embracing my altered states, living in them. I suspect Phoenix would have more success, being more comfortable with unreality. Not that either of us would participate in whatever hegemony 4Q perpetuates. More that we'd figure out what it wanted, and how to resist. I've been thinking about this a lot. Maybe other people are, too. We need to find each other.

Phoenix and I wandered north. We found this incredible queer community in Oregon, with actual traditions and mechanisms to deal with communal trauma. I can't say anything about the world, the world is unknowable. But I think there's hope for us.

Phoenix and I are together, now, in a way I can't quite name. We did finally make love. That was beautiful. But we don't live together. I make love to other people, sometimes, and he does the same. Sometimes I'll go a week or two without seeing him, without notice. Sometimes I'll go a few days without even thinking about him. I love him, and I tell him that, and he says the same to me, though both of us have admitted that we don't know what that means.

We still panic. I still get paranoid. Phoenix disassociates. He's been using the state to make art. I think about I34Q and write down what I think. I'm pretty good at eating regularly, even if I don't feel like it. I don't know if we're living without pain. I think maybe that's a pretty tall order. But I don't want to kill myself anymore. So I think that's pretty good.

[Ed.: have this little treat. It takes me about the length of this playlist to read the story.]

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VD5lJJqNUJsITPj3Rg8Sn?si=d262096479104d4f

#fiction #short fiction #science fiction #aliens #madness #suicide #panic attack #disassociation #paranoia #eating disorder #hopeful ending

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years

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When Natsu runs into five-year-old Sting and Rogue at the Grand Magic Games, he thinks they're cute kids with a serious case of hero worship. But when it turns out that they're both Dragon Slayers and they belong to the ruthless Sabertooth Guild, something doesn't feel quite right. Natsu and Gray quickly grow protective of the two little kids, and they do their best to build a relationship with them to try to keep them safe and figure out what exactly is going on at Sabertooth.

alternate chapter art here

Chapter Summary: Natsu and Gray are both unsettled by the revelation about Sting and Rogue's dragon slaying powers, and Gray realizes he has something in common with Rogue.

Chapters (2/?): 1 | 2 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Not Canon Compliant, like not even close, Dai Matou Enbu | Grand Magic Games Arc, Sort Of, Childhood Friends, Cute Kids, Hero Worship, Fairy Tail Dragon Slayers, Protectiveness, protective Natsu, Protective Gray, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Parenthood, sorta - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Character, Nonbinary Character, Trans Gray, Trans Sting, Nonbinary Rogue, they're just adorable baby dragon slayers and Natsu wants to adopt them, and kind of does, Mutual Pining, because Gray and Natsu are idiots

-----

The walk back to the inn was quiet. Erza and Lucy quickly slipped into a recap of the day’s events, but Natsu was edgy and distracted, still trying his hardest to figure out what had felt wrong about the two boys.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you think too hard.” Gray appeared beside Natsu and bumped his shoulder, knocking him out of step.

“Hilarious.” Natsu nudged him back, but it lacked the usual enthusiasm of their bickering.

“I try.” Gray shoved his hands into his pockets, staying next to Natsu as they made their way through the dark streets. He didn’t say anything, which wasn’t unusual for him, but Natsu felt like there was a weight behind the lack of words.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Natsu finally said once they had arrived at the inn and the girls had headed in to sleep. He leaned against the wall next to Gray and stared up at the sky. The sun had set, and the sky was a dark tapestry littered with pinpricks of stars. “I dunno why it’s bugging me so much. We weren’t much older when we joined Fairy Tail.”

Gray nodded, absently patting his pocket where he used to keep his cigarettes. Natsu batted his hand away, trying to ignore the warm spark when their fingers touched.

It doesn’t mean anything, Natsu thought as he pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. He’s your best friend.

Continue reading on AO3

Gray didn’t answer for a while. The silence that settled between them was easy and familiar, and Natsu felt himself unconsciously leaning closer to Gray. Everyone always teased Natsu about how much he talked, but when he was alone with Gray, it didn’t feel necessary. The urgent need to fill the air with cheerful words was replaced by a deep, quiet sense of familiarity that felt like home.

“I think,” Gray said after a while, keeping his gaze on the sky, “it feels wrong because they’re alone. I mean, not alone, but there aren’t any other kids in their guild.” He kicked at a rock, watching it bounce across the street and clatter down into the gutter. “They’re so young. And nobody’s looking out for them.”

“Yukino is,” Natsu pointed out, and Gray nodded. “But she seems…”

“Afraid?”

“Mm. She doesn’t really fit with them either.” Natsu sighed, prodding at a bruise that was still forming on his ribs. It was courtesy of a vicious kick from Orga during their fight that morning – one that Natsu and Gray had nearly lost to Sabertooth’s ruthless tactics.

Silence fell between them again. The soft chill that normally radiated from Gray was tempered by Natsu’s heat, keeping them both comfortably warm in the cool spring air. Natsu absently held out his hand and summoned a small flame, running it back and forth across his knuckles. Gray blew a stream of frosty air at it, and it froze for a second, glinting orange and gold in the dim light of the streetlamp.

“I think Sting’s trans,” Gray said as the flame went out.

Natsu raised an eyebrow, tipping his head to look at the soft expression on Gray’s face. Natsu still remembered the day he’d come out, even though it was years ago. They’d been nine or ten, sparring as usual, and Droy had told Natsu that he shouldn’t hit girls. Gray had yelled that he wasn’t a girl, said some words that he’d probably picked up from Gildarts, then punched Droy and stormed away from the guild. Natsu had followed him down to the river and they’d spent the afternoon together, carefully holding hands and watching the water sparkle in the afternoon sun.

Nothing had changed. Gray was still Gray, and Natsu had still loved him just as fiercely.

“How do you know?”

Gray shrugged. “I dunno, something…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Natsu nodded. He’d known right away that Rogue wasn’t a boy or a girl, just like Freed, but he couldn’t quite explain how.

“I wish they could come with us,” Natsu said. “There’s something off – not just about Sabertooth, about them. I can’t figure it out and it’s driving me crazy.”

“You could try to talk to Yukino,” Gray suggested. “Not to take them or anything, just to maybe, I dunno, offer to help them. Train them, I mean. With the dragon slayer stuff. Jiemma might go for that if that’s what he’s… keeping them for.”

“That’s… actually a good idea.”

“I happen to have those sometimes.”

“Only when you’re inspired by my brilliance.”

Gray laughed – a rare, quiet sound that made Natsu’s cheeks warm and his stomach twist in a gentle, familiar way.

“C’mon,” Gray said, pushing himself off the wall and nudging Natsu’s arm. “It’s late, let’s go to bed.”

Natsu swallowed back the disappointment that washed over him – he wanted to stay here, shoulders touching, talking quietly in the night. He liked having Gray to himself. It happened so rarely now that they were adults, and Natsu missed the afternoons they used to spend by the river. He missed holding hands. He missed falling asleep together under the afternoon sun and waking up with his head on Gray’s shoulder.

“I’ll be right in,” he said, forcing himself to smile.

Gray frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Natsu said quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You shouldn’t drink so much of that; you’re going to have a heart attack.”

Gray glared half-heartedly at Lucy over his fourth cup of coffee. Even with that much caffeine flowing through him, he was still exhausted. Sleep had evaded him for most of the night. At first, he’d spent his time waiting for Natsu to come inside, wishing he’d stayed out with him. Then, once Natsu had finally crawled into the bed across from Gray and was snoring softly, the nightmares had started.

Gray hadn’t dreamed about his mom in a long time. He’d woken up in the early hours of the morning, skin and sheets covered in a thick layer of frost, and had been surprised to find tears frozen to his cheeks.

“’m fine,” he mumbled. “Stupid beds are uncomfortable.”

Lucy nodded sympathetically as she sat down at the table across from him. The inn had its own small kitchen, and Gray was grateful for the option to eat here, mostly alone, instead of heading to the market to find food with everyone else. He still felt unsettled and wasn’t quite ready to face the world.

“Are you okay?” Lucy’s gentle question made the fragile barrier around Gray’s heart splinter a little and he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. Somehow, she was always able to see past his bullshit.

“Just bad dreams.”

“Is it because of the kids?”

Gray peeked up at her. “You’re freakishly perceptive, you know that, right?”

Lucy laughed, poking at her pancakes. “So that’s a yes, then.”

“I guess.” Gray rubbed his face. “I dunno. They’re little and alone.” The words stuck in his throat and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself together. “It just…”

“Reminds you of yourself?”

“Would you stop that?”

“Nope.”

Gray groaned. “Yes, okay? And I know a lot of us had shitty childhoods, but it made me think about my mom, and how it sucks they don’t have their parents. That’s all.”

Lucy reached across the table and took Gray’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay to miss your mom,” she said gently. “I miss mine, too. And I know that Natsu’s thinking about his dad. You’re not alone, Gray.”

He let out a noisy breath and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah, I know.” He squeezed her hand, giving her a small half-smile before letting go and grabbing his coffee again. The taste was bitter as he downed it in one gulp, then stood up and pushed his chair away from the table.

“You’d better get going,” Lucy said, gesturing at the clock on the wall behind him. “I’m pretty sure you’re up first this morning.”

“Mm.” Gray stretched, then leaned across the table and quickly kissed the top of Lucy’s head. He pulled away before she could say anything, turning toward the door so she couldn’t see the redness in his cheeks. “See you later?” For some reason it came out as a question, almost seeking reassurance.

Of course, Lucy provided it. “I’ll be cheering for you,” she said. “Good luck!”

The fight was exhausting. Gray was matched one-on-one against someone named Renne from a guild he couldn’t even remember, and the lack of sleep caught up to him halfway through the fight. Something hit him hard in the forehead and he stumbled backward, blinking when blood dripped into his eyes.

C’mon, Princess. Natsu’s voice filled Gray’s mind and for a moment, he thought it was his imagination. Then he glanced up into the stands and realized that Natsu was staring down at him with Max by his side, borrowing his telepathic magic. You’ve got this.

Gray shook his head to clear his blurred vision, launching a barrage of ice blades from his hands as Renne teleported behind him. Another hit landed on his jaw and he grunted in pain, stumbling forward and cursing under his breath. Frustration and embarrassment washed over him as blood filled his mouth.

The kids are watching. Natsu’s voice appeared again. Look up.

Gray spun around, gaze moving from Natsu’s grinning face to the enormous screen that panned across the crowd. Right now, it was focused on Sabertooth, and there, leaning against the railing, were Sting and Rogue. Sting had a wild grin on his face and was bouncing up and down in excitement, turning to talk to Yukino as he pointed at Gray. Rogue was standing behind him, looking much more subdued, but when Gray realized they were still holding the snake he’d made, something warm flooded through him.

Fuck this, he thought, spitting blood onto the ground and turning back to Renne. I’m not gonna lose. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

As soon as he thought about it, the devil slayer magic he’d been ignoring for so long started to thrum under his skin. An anticipation grew along with the power, layered with an irritated almost-whisper of, why did you wait so long, let me out, let me free, let me destroy.

Gray gritted his teeth, pushing back against the destructive desires of the magic. It itched and stung, just like every time he called on it, pushing at him like it didn’t quite fit in his body. The black marks raced across his skin like ink on parchment, twisting in patterns that Gray still didn’t understand. He didn’t use the magic often – even after a year, the new powers still unsettled him.

He exhaled, letting the tension and fatigue flow out of his body, then looked up at Renne again. Everything about her was sharper. Gray could see her magic now; a purplish-blue aura that darted around her, quick and nimble. It tasted bitter, overpowering the coppery tang of blood that clung to the inside of his mouth.

A look of surprise appeared on her face that was quickly replaced by disgust, and she cursed as she charged at him. Her magic flowed just ahead of her, and Gray watched the movements carefully, stepping out of the way of her attack. She stumbled uncertainly, then glared at him as she disappeared in a burst of light.

Gray closed his eyes, letting the magic flow out of him like a sixth sense, feeling through the air until it found a heartbeat. He whipped around as the magic snapped back to him, crystallizing along his arms until sharp blades spread from his fingers to elbows. Renne appeared exactly where he’d expected, and her nasty grin was quickly replaced by a look of surprise when he caught her blow one-handed and tossed her to the ground.

A hungry sensation raced through Gray at the expression on her face, but he pushed it back, refusing to give in to the vicious desires of his magic. The commentators shouted something, and a cheer spread through the crowd, but it all turned to a dull roar as Gray pushed the magic out again, letting it crystallize into a group of wicked-looking ice shards that hung around Renne.

“What the hell kind of magic is this?” she hissed, pushing herself to her feet. The shards moved closer to her, bathing her in the bruised purple light of the devil slayer’s ice.

“Mine,” Gray said simply. Then he closed his fist and detonated the ice. It exploded into thousands of tiny fragments that whipped around Rennee, sharp and deadly. She swore as one of them nicked her arm, then scowled at Gray and teleported away.

He closed his eyes again, following the magic as it moved. It darted back and forth around him and through the air, leaving behind a sour, acidic smell, then stopped on near the edge of the stadium. Gray quickly dropped to one knee, pressing his hands to the ground and sending out a shockwave that culminated in a mass of razor-sharp ice spikes exploding underneath where Rennee reappeared.

She disappeared again and Gray could feel her anger and resentment, a dark blue color seething through the lines of her magic. It made her even easier to track. He kept his eyes closed, shifting to follow each teleport and block it with the hungry magic that flowed through him.

A few attempts later, he caught her. She materialized into a prison of dark purple ice that raced across her skin until it covered her torso and pinned her arms to her chest. She stumbled forward, landing on her knees and not standing again.

The commentator’s voices were fuzzy as a cheer raced through the stadium and the Fairy Tail logo filled the screen. Gray exhaled in relief as he released the magic around Renne, pulling it back to him and letting it dissolve. The marks quickly disappeared into his skin, leaving him worn out and oddly cold.

“Freak,” Renne hissed as she stumbled to her feet. “That magic is evil. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Gray didn’t have an answer for her, and he dropped his gaze to the ground as she turned on her heel and walked away.

I knew you could do it. Natsu’s voice appeared in Gray’s head again and he looked up to see the stupid, brilliant smile that always made his heart ache. You looked pretty badass, too. Gray was glad he was far enough away from Natsu that he couldn’t see the embarrassed flush that crept into his cheeks. I think you’ve got a new fan, Natsu added, nodding to the screen again.

The camera had panned to the left, but the edge of the screen still caught the Sabertooth viewing area. Sting had been cut out of the picture, but Rogue was still there, clutching the snake to their chest and gazing down at Gray with a wide-eyed look of adoration. The warm feeling from earlier swelled in Gray’s chest again – for some reason, that look was worth more than all the cheers from the rest of the stadium.

The dizzy, uncomfortable feeling that always appeared after using the devil slayer magic plagued Gray for the rest of the day. He tried his best to shake it off and cheer for his team, but the feeling dug its claws into him and wouldn’t let go.

Freak.

Evil.

Demon.

The echo of Renne’s voice drifted around in his mind, next to the headache and the unsettling feeling of his skin not fitting quite right.

“You okay?” Natsu asked once they’d left the stadium for the day. The evening sky was a soft pink and cast gentle shadows across the cobblestone street. The market was closed for the evening and the quiet was a calm reprieve from the shouts and excitement of the games.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Gray grumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Natsu gave him a sideways look but Gray refused to return it. “You look like shit.”

Gray snorted. “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Gray caught Natsu’s grin out of the corner of his eye. “Seriously, though. You used the magic.”

Gray’s stomach twisted. “Of course I used magic,” he said quickly. “It’s called the Grand Magic Games.”

“That’s not what I meant, idiot, and you know it.”

Gray sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He missed being able to hold Natsu’s hand. They’d done it for years, and the gentle warmth of Natsu’s palm against his had always been enough to make Gray feel safe. Then they’d grown up and it had started to feel like something else, and it hurt Gray too much to keep touching Natsu and knowing he couldn’t have him like that.

“I just—”

Gray’s words were interrupted by a yell, and a familiar voice shouting, “Stop it!”

“Sting?” Gray frowned at Natsu, looking around the empty market for the little boy. It took a second and another shout for him to see the head of curly blond hair on the other side of the fountain in the center of the square.

“Are they out here again by themselves?” Natsu asked, sighing in exasperation as they both quickened their pace and headed toward Sting. “I swear, I’m gonna—”

“Leave them alone!”

Sting yelled again, and they arrived at the fountain just in time to see someone shove him. It was a boy who looked to be a couple years older than Sting and Rogue, and an ugly look crossed his face as Sting stumbled backward.

“He’s stupid and you are too,” the boy said, hands clenching into fists. A terrified-looking Rogue stood just behind Sting, and a spark of protective anger flared in Gray’s chest. Sting’s cheeks were red, and he looked like he was about to cry, but he didn’t back down. His hands shook as the boy took a step toward him.

“Hey!” Natsu’s shout caught the boy’s attention as he stepped forward, and he whipped around to face them. His eyes widened when he realized who Natsu was. “What do you think you’re—”

Before Gray could grab him, the boy was gone, darting out of the market and into the maze of alleys that wound through the city.

There was a moment of silence, and then Sting burst into tears.

“Hey bud.” Natsu’s voice was gentle as he crouched down next to Sting. “Are you okay?” Sting shook his head, and Natsu made a sad sound, pulling the little boy into a hug. “It’s okay,” Natsu said softly as Sting pressed his face into his shoulder. “You’re safe.”

Gray turned to Rogue, who was staring uncertainly at Sting and Natsu. Gray hesitated, not quite sure if he should step in or let Natsu handle it. Kids weren’t his forte – even with Asuka he sometimes felt awkward and out of place, unsure of how to respond to her exuberance and desire to play.

Then Rogue rubbed their face and Gray realized they were about to cry as well.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gray said gently, holding out his hand. Rogue stared at Sting for a few more seconds, then cautiously took Gray’s hand and followed him over to the fountain. Gray sat down on the edge and lifted Rogue up to sit beside him, surprised by how light they were. Rogue quickly curled up against him as they sniffled and tried to hide their tears.

“Is Sting in trouble?”

“Of course not,” Gray reassured them, wrapping his arm around them as they snuggled closer to him. The easy trust that Rogue seemed to have in him made Gray feel warm and important. “That kid was a jerk,” he said. “Neither of you did anything wrong. Did he hurt you?”

Rogue shook their head, sniffing and wiping their face with their sleeve. “He said my eyes was weird,” they said quietly. Anger flared up in Gray’s chest again and he contemplated chasing the kid down. “Sting telled him to go away but he didn’t listen. Why he was mean?”

“I don’t know,” Gray said honestly. “Sometimes people aren’t very nice and there isn’t a good reason for it.”

Rogue didn’t answer, just rested their head against Gray’s shoulder and played with the frayed edge of their sleeve. Gray looked back at Natsu, who was still crouched next to Sting with a hand on his arm. Sting had stopped crying and his face was set in a stubborn frown, and Gray almost laughed when he realized it was the same look Natsu had always worn at that age.

“You’re nice,” Rogue said, pulling Gray’s attention back to them. “I like you.”

Gray stilled, not quite sure why the words made his cheeks burn. “I like you too,” he said carefully. He looked back at Natsu, who had managed to get Sting to smile, then back down at Rogue. He felt wildly out of his element and he had no idea how to make Rogue feel better. Then he thought of the way Rogue’s face had lit up at the snake sculpture he’d made the day before.

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

Rogue looked up at him, half of their face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. “See what?”

Gray held out both hands, summoning his magic as slowly as he could. Snowflakes drifted up and around his palms as they started to glow with a faint blue light. Rogue’s face immediately brightened with excitement and they leaned forward, staring at the magic.

“You can make a snake again?” they asked as they gazed at the soft blue light.

“Sure,” Gray said, relaxing as Rogue’s tearful expression transformed into a small, shy smile. “I can make anything you want.”

“Anything?” Rogue’s eyes widened further.

“Yep.” Gray moved his fingers and the ice twisted into a snake again, then into a thin, delicate snowflake, then into a small cat. Rogue watched the whole time, head tilted to the side, entranced by the movements.

“You can do it black?” they asked, looking down at their own hands.

Gray frowned. “Black?” Rogue touched Gray’s forearm and his eyes widened as he realized they meant the devil slayer marks.

“That’s sort of—”

“Like mine.” Rogue held his palm out next to Gray’s and a tiny, black wisp appeared. “See?” Gray watched as it flickered and twisted, then dropped back down onto Rogue’s hand. A bit of it spread out under their skin for a moment, just like the marks on Gray’s arms. “It’s only little cause I did a big one and it scareded Yukino but it was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

The uncertainty and shame in Rogue’s voice made Gray’s heart ache.

“I’m sure she was just surprised,” he reassured Rogue. Then he pushed away his exhaustion and slowly pulled at the devil slayer magic until a pattern of dark marks swirled across his arms. The soft blue glow in his palms darkened as he focused the magic, keeping it from overwhelming him. He jumped when he felt something on his wrist, but it was just Rogue’s fingertips, tracing the pattern of the marks.

“Show me yours again,” Gray said, nudging Rogue’s hands. They hesitated, then held up their palm next to Gray’s, summoning another wisp of shadow that danced along their fingers. “You can make it bigger,” Gray said. Rogue gave him a dubious look. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“’kay.” Rogue squirmed forward, bringing their other hand up as the shadow grew, spiraling and flickering until it was nearly the size of a house cat. Gray nudged it with his own magic, drawing the shadow into the cloud of dark snowflakes.

“See?” He smiled at the delighted expression on Rogue’s face. “It’s not scary. It’s pretty.” The marks on his arms shifted again and he felt the magic trying to stretch. “What should we make?” he asked, trying to ignore the sensation.

“A frog?” Rogue asked. “I like frogs.”

Gray laughed, shifting his magic alongside Rogue’s and molding it into the shape of a small frog that fit in the palm of their hand. Instead of the bright, clear blue from the other day, this one was deep purple, with wisps of shadow twisted inside the ice. It was beautiful, in a strange way.

“Thank you.” Rogue tipped their head onto Gray’s shoulder, letting out a happy sigh and snuggling close as they ran their fingers over the frog. He exhaled, letting the magic sink back into his skin as he wrapped his arm around Rogue again.

They sat in silence for a while as Gray watched Natsu and Sting. Natsu had moved to sit cross-legged on the ground and Sting was in his lap, still red-eyed but no longer crying. The soft, fond feelings that Gray tried so hard to keep to himself surfaced easily as he watched the two of them. Natsu’s smile was genuine and his hands were gentle, and he was beautiful in the shadows of the setting sun.

“All right, you two,” Natsu said eventually, standing and scooping Sting into his arms. “Oof, you’re heavy.”

“I’m five,” Sting said, managing to look indignant even while wrapping his arms around Natsu’s neck. “That’s big.”

“That is big,” Natsu agreed, giving Gray a soft smile as he stood as well, holding a sleepy Rogue in his arms. “Now, let’s go find Yukino.”

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a-shared-experience · 3 years

Text

Cptsd

It was pretty complex having to explain the dynamic that shaped me into the person I am today.

Conceived in addiction. born into volatility. The struggle for sobriety. Sometimes I feel like I could feel the feelings of me as a child all over again . Eggshells ... it was like walking on eggshells. There was so much yelling and it scared me. That was my first impression of love. It wasn’t pretty. Sometimes I wondered how people could say such awful things.

my dad was doing awesome for awhile but ended up being seriously injured, out of work and a new found addiction to gambling. My mom worked three jobs while my dad secretly maxed out the worth of our house twice over and then some. It was fucking substantial.

You take it all in as a kid even though you’re just sorta in the background. It’s never just about the money either. It’s shame.

It’s pain. Distrust. Arguing, it’s unspoken fear that my brother instead twists into just being mean to me. How could we ever pay back that kind of money. where would we live. I only remember feelings mostly. There was one time where my mom drove my brothers and I to meet my dad who’d slept in his car instead of coming home. Home was war.

I just remember it being awkward because things were so obviously not ok . We were in a parking lot for fucks sakes and I had so many questions. I couldn’t understand I just felt it and so I said nothing.

I realize I live and hide within myself. I can’t show people how much I care for them. I just feel it. Intensely.

There’s no security in any portion of my life. Subconsciously it’s nightmares and night terrors. Sometimes it’s chest pain from stress and insomnia. No big deal I can stay awake for like 5 days without any drugs so whatever . When I’m awake it’s having to constantly be doing something to soothe myself enough to sort of relax. I don’t live in the past I’m just shaped by it. The nature of the events seemed to rob me of a lot of happy memories and I’m certain I had them. It’s just that for some reason the bad ones stick. The chaos of it all. I remember my brother and father fighting and my brother punched the window and had to be rushed to the hospital to get all these stitches on both sides of his forearm . It was insane there was so much blood. When I did EMDR they asked me to recall a time when I felt unwanted I told them about no one remembering to pick me up from my friends house and feeling the energy of having burdened them and yet no ability to actually leave. Of sitting beside my dad while his lay check went into slot machines and it didn’t matter that I was tired or hungry or bored. I don’t want to blame any person in my immediate family I love them very dearly. Still

Intense therapy meant I had to go there and be shown how it made sense that I worked so much and couldn’t rely on anyone. Why I don’t have faith in myself despite never failing to provide. I’ve always done it. I live almost every moment in fight or flight. It’s awful. People notice when you’re jumpy and they laugh. I can’t walk to my bedroom in my own apartment without turning the lights on. I’ve lived here for 5 years or something like that. Most days I operate after having had no sleep because I’ve always been afraid of it. I can’t rest I have to make sure everything is ok. There’s no one else to make it ok . My sleep disorder has become a mixture of fear of my subconscious memory mixed with anxiety about being late for commitments. Sometimes it’s the adhd and I’m just hyper and super creative late at night. Sometimes I hear drunk people scream in the streets and I feel as if I was 3 listening to everyone fighting or someone will set off fireworks and my brain automatically assumes it’s a gunshot. There’s murder. I’m not safe. It means I can’t watch scary movies not even the commercials. Things meant to create suspense overwhelm me.

I realized getting close to people when you’re meant to rely on them terrifies me because I can’t trust that I can rely on anyone. It’s me for me out here. I always am scared that they’ll rely on me and I’ll break under pressure. It’s been really challenging lately to be out work so long and to manage getting paid once a month and be under contract to not volunteer or work in any capacity . I ask my work if I can come back because I need structure and my doctors haven’t cleared me. It’s all too much for my mind to handle. It’s too much fear . I haven’t felt secure in a year. I wish there was a way to lie about the pain but I don’t know how to. They just base it on the way the spine moves or muscles spasm

And I can’t really manipulate that. I realize I can’t fail I’m not a fucking idiot but I feel the stress as if everything I’ve ever worked for is about to go under. I realize I’ve felt that way the whole time I’ve lived here. Me whole life actually. I’m never comfortable or able to settle in because it could be all gone if I make one wrong move. The inability to work hard at something leaves me with my thoughts which never shut the fuck up. I just feel useless doing nothing and being broke it takes me back to all the nights where I fell asleep wondering if we’d lose everything. Wondering if my dad would come home. Worrying , kids shouldn’t worry that much. To break out of my funk I’m making a bucket list of everything I can dream up that I want to accomplish , how I want to challenge myself, how I can make more money, things to be excited about, ideas to create , anything . I need a sense of security I can’t take it anymore and it needs to come from me because I don’t trust it in any other capacity . Once I feel secure I’ll balance out and feel safer. I hate the secrets of my life and just wish it would be less like this

I hate when people say you can’t live in the past. I don’t - I don’t even want to know that past. I put thousands of miles between that and myself , I do everything I can to the point of exhaustion to escape it. I sit with it and work through it. It’s me.

It’s like sometimes the most pointless life

And other times it’s amazing , beyond anything I can imagine and I have immense gratitude

It’s just never in between and I guess that’s the dream but that doesn’t pay the bills

I dunno

I’m just having a childish tantrum I guess ... it’s a result of being hyper vigilant, self doubt and the pressure to figure it the fuck out as if the stress wasn’t crippling me.

Stress disorders ... hella fun

I got my hands on a medical report where the specialist wrote that patients with extreme physiological trauma often feel physical pain more intensely which somehow made me feel guilty for being in a car accident. Do we ever feel things that aren’t guilt shame and fear

Fuckkk

End rant

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