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#ill do it in my head for the mental health reason. everyone else have the bad cope post

avengersfantasies · 10 months

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Strong (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You aren't feeling good one day, and Bucky finds out what you've been keeping from him.

What to expect: mental health issues

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist here!

Taglist: @winterslove1917 @natashasilverfox @gojoismysensei @mavrellover91

You lay in bed – having told your boyfriend that you were feeling sick and didn’t feel up to doing anything. Bucky knew you better than that though…you’d been together long enough to read each other like open books.

“Alright, my love,” he spoke softly – rubbing your back as you pulled the blankets up to your nose.

You’d never know it, but he was growing suspicious as to the reason behind your illness. He had seen this before, so he went to look for a possible cause. You fell back asleep in the large, plush bed the two of you shared – the nausea taking over your body. You felt like you were going to throw up…like your entire being was being drowned. Your eyes felt like they wanted to close and stay closed, but you could still hear Bucky looking around the apartment. He looked everywhere for something to make you feel better after not having any luck in finding the cause. He headed for the medicine cabinet in your shared bathroom – hoping there would be something in there to help with the nausea and fatigue. When he opened it up, however, his eyes landed on the familiar orange bottles. Your medicine for your mental health sat there, and to his dismay, the bottles were nearly full. He looked at each of the bottles – calculating how long ago they were filled and how many should be in there if you had been taking them correctly.

Twenty days ago, he told himself as he took out the pills from each bottle – counting them. Theoretically, if you had been taking them correctly, you should have a total of 10 left from your 30 day supply. When he counted them, though, he sighed when he realized you had 28 left in each bottle. Thinking about what to say, Bucky slowly left the bathroom and headed back into the bedroom.

“Hey, babe?” he called out – causing you to open your eyes. You didn’t look at him – looking straight ahead at the mirror that hung above the dresser. Your lack of communication didn’t stop him though. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed your back. “Can we talk about this?” he asked softly – holding out the nearly-full medicine bottles for you to see. You still didn’t respond. “Please?”

“What about them?” you finally spoke up – your voice weak and shaky.

“Baby…why haven’t you been taking them?” he asked with a voice filled with concerned. You shrugged in response. “You know you need to take them, right?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” you weakly argued. “Why should I have to take medication every day?”

“Because, baby…you need them so that you feel better.”

“But why?” you scoffed. “Why do I need medication to feel better?”

He reached for your hand and held it gently. “I know it’s not fair,” his voice was soft and caring. “But sometimes, some people need a little help…it’s not always something that can be solved by talking to someone…sometimes, it’s chemical.” The fact that you had been on medication for years was always something you viewed as wrong. When you were first put on it, your parents tried to talk you out of it…saying that you were overreacting and didn’t need medicine to help you…all you needed to do was get your shit together and work hard. Hearing that for years from them somehow affected the way you viewed yourself, and you couldn’t help but think that everyone else thought the same thing. “Baby,” Bucky continued, “taking medication doesn’t mean you're bad or subhuman.”

“You don’t have to take it for your PTSD,” you argued.

He stroked your cheek gently. “We have different brain chemical makeups…talking out my thoughts helps me more than medication…and medication seems to help you more than talking.”

“You don’t think it makes me weak?” your eyes were filling with tears as you looked up at the handsome soldier.

“I think the fight you fight every single day makes you one of the strongest people in the world.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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haunted-moon · 4 months

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Long Way Home [Part IX]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part IX

The heavy rains continued for a couple days more before stopping. It was impossible for Azriel to visit at the time, but I began to grow anxious when I didn't see him even after the weather turned clear.

I caught myself waiting, looking outside my windows as I continued with my day. It was an agony, and I didn't know what else to do. Had he given up? Was he wounded? I grew more worried, and after a week passed by with no sign of him, I decided to visit Velaris in person and check.

The following morning, I woke up early to have a quick breakfast and then pack an overnight bag. I was in the middle of washing the dishes when there was a knock on the front door.

Abandoning my task, I ran to the foyer, drying my hands with a dishcloth and anticipating Azriel's face.

My face fell when I saw Rhysand, Cassian, and my father framed by the open doorway. I immediately schooled my expression, mentally chastising myself for being so excited. They were wearing somber expressions as I led them to the living room. I felt my heart thumping in panic as I asked them for refreshments and they declined. What could possibly have happened that they came all the way here instead of Azriel?

We all sat down, and I couldn't stop bouncing my knee as Rhys and Cassian took in the villa.

My father was the first to speak. "Azriel's taken ill."

I couldn't stop the concerning expression that plainly showed only face. I was in love with Azriel, after all. "Is he wounded?"

He shook his head. "It's a fever, headache and stomachache. He should've been healed by now. But—"

Rhys took the rest of the explanation. "But he's not eating or drinking anything. Any medicine that your father tries to give him he rejects it. He's become delirious, confined to bed and keeps saying your name all the time. Everyone of us have tried coaxing him to have something. He's just not listening. We don't know what to do."

Cassian's voice had lost its usual liveliness. "We know that he has hurt you. But please, I beg you, come back and treat him. Save our brother. He'll really die from a simple fever at this rate."

I swallowed, my eyes filling with tears. Our mating bond had a weak pulse, and now I knew the reason. Azriel...

I had been hurt, but I wasn't heartless. And maybe, it was now the time to move on and let him in.

"Bring him here, I'll nurse him back to health."

Relief was visible on their faces, Rhys and Cassian engulfed me in a group hug before immediately taking off to winnow their brother here. Father lingered back, and he gave me instructions on the medicine and food to prepare after which he too, had to leave. He had patients waiting in the city.

He left after engulfing me in another hug and told me that he loved me.

I took a few moments to steady myself. Then I started on the preparations as per the instructions, anticipating Azriel's arrival.

My mate's arrival. The words put a smile only face, despite it all.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 10 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

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the-once-ler-in-superjail · 10 months

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CHAPTER 35: The Asylum - Part 1

Thanks for holding on again, we hope your patience was worth it! Went with a slightly different presentation style this time round (more comic page form) so expect these uploads to not always be the same format- that's part of the fun we're having with it.

Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe

Layout/roughs, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman

(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)

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Once-ler: *Sitting at his desk in his office with his curtains closed, his hands through his hair and he's staring tiredly at a messy desk of papers in front of him. He was once reading them, but he's gotten to the point where he's so tired-out and stressed that he just stares at them without taking in any of the words, his eyes move over the same sentence he's been reading over and over again.*

Warden: *He just bursts through the door without knocking- though this is normal. He never knocks in his own jail, ever.* Good afternoon!~ *He's been... not perkier (it's impossible to be perkier than the Warden already is) but more bulletproof than ever since his breakdown. It's like a big weight off his shoulders.* How's my favourite accountant? Working hard or hardly working? Ha! You know, this place could use some sunshine! *Skips through the room poofing vases of flowers and other decorations around the room, as the curtains magically open.*

Once-ler: *Gasps at the sudden disruption of his silence and looks at the Warden with wide eyes which then squint at the sudden light. He almost hisses like a vampire bat when his perfect darkness disappears. He relaxes and then frowns a little.* It looks fine the way it is. *Leans on his elbow so he doesn't look at the Warden and takes his pen in his hand. He taps it a few times on the desk as he tries to read the papers again.*

Warden: *Pauses, and all the flowers in a vase he's holding wither and die.* Heeeey... *His voice softens down, actually showing some initiative and care for once.* You okay, buddy? *Walks over and rests a surprisingly parental hand on his shoulder. He looks down at Oncie's head with worry.*

Once-ler: *Sighs and drops back in his chair, throwing the pen onto the desk and his chair rolls back a little on the floor. He might have responded more callous if the Warden hadn’t picked up on his mood this time, and then adjusted his own mood to better console him. Instead, he sighs and drops his pen. His shirt is untucked and his braces hanging down by his waist instead of over his shoulders.* No. I'm not okay. *A bit of a whiny teenager voice. Then he frowns more seriously.* And I don’t appreciate you bursting in unannounced when I’m trying to work.

Warden: *Gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze.* What's up? I thought you liked that math-y boring stuff. *Sounds honestly like he cares. He really has grown very attached to his Oncie- enough to actually think of him as a human and not a toy. Which is just why he falter slightly when his sudden burst-in is mentioned.* Oh!-Uh… *Clears his throat then laughs awkwardly.* Sure, buddy! I hate it when Jared bursts in on me too- Not that I’m anything like Jared. *At least when HE suddenly shows up it’s for fun reasons, not boring annoying Jared reasons, and who wouldn’t want that? But he’s starting to learn that Oncie has his own feelings and ways of doing things, and that’s good, because if he was the same as everyone else then he wouldn’t be what makes him so great. He tilts his head.* Anything other than that your all-powerful prison-warden can do to help?

Once-ler: *Shakes his head, but he's really very grateful that he can feel the Warden concerned for him.* Not really. I have work to do for Superjail and then even more important work for my business. *Stands up and points at the Warden.* You've been spending too much over the budget again. *He points his thumb towards himself.* I need to get to Thneedville to sort out my factory. *His hands flick in mid air, flat, vertical and parallel to each other, like he’s showing a box size.* But I cant go to Thneedville, *then points at the floor,* Because I’m stuck here.

Warden: *Brightens up again* Weeeell, why didn't you say so?? *He completely glosses over, or doesn't even hear that he's over-budget. He never does, and probably never will. But, somehow, Superjail always survives.* How about you and I take some time out and go back? You can set up all your... *wiggles his fingers in midair,* factory doowhatsists, and I'll, I dunno, take in a tour! *The thought of Oncie going back alone doesn't even cross his mind. They're a duo.*

Once-ler: *Huffs and strokes his hand through the back of his hair. That’s not a terrible idea. Who’da thought he could just disappear? Maybe he’s becoming somewhat institutionalised here already and is still living with a prisoner mentality. He takes a glance at the papers and then frowns.* Yes! Yes! Okay, just take me out of here.

Warden: Alrighty! *Smiles and pulls Oncie backwards so he's suspended on the back two legs of his chair. He gives him a big kiss before they disappear, then reappear in a hover car on the coast of Superjail’s island. The car shoots off and off they go through the outer world back to mainland and back to Thneedville. There go his powers though- he won't be getting them back until Jailbot comes to get them. He did not think this through very much, but it's a perfectly reasonable plan so far.*

Once-ler: Hmph! *Gasps into the kiss and feels very dizzy once his powers take effect, the dizziness of the powers and the sudden romantic flutter in his stomach at the kiss, make stars appear as his eyes clench shut and they vanish. He snaps forward once they arrive in the car and gives a little shudder, feeling disorientated.* Uurgh…

Warden: *They land outside The Once-ler’s Lerkim and drags them out to the front door, before the car takes off again to leave back for Superjail. He pouts at him good-humouredly.* Enough moping! It's time to take care of your factory! *Wheels around him and moves to push him away from the building.* We'll meet back here in a few hours~

Once-ler: Wh- *Lets himself be walked out.* Where are you going?

Warden: Me? *Juts out his jaw as he thinks.* I guess I'll go exploring. We were so busy the last time we came here that I hardly saw any of the town~ *They were too 'busy'.* Now stop worrying! You're draggin' down the vibe.

Once-ler: You want to go exploring the town alone?- *His initial reaction to that-* No. *- and stops letting the Warden push him.*

Warden: Oof! *Crumples into the back of him, not ready for Oncie to stop moving.* *Pouts, speaking into Oncie's back with his nose and eyes visible over his shoulder.* Meanie.

Once-ler: *Looks over his shoulder.* I just don't want you getting into trouble. You'll probably end up punching a barbaloot or something *Frowns as he just put that image in his head. He might slap the man if he dared to harm any of the animals.*

Warden: *Gasps and straightens up.* The very idea! *Huffs with his hands on his hips.* I'll have you know that I am a grown man! *Shakes his finger in midair in a very old-fashioned way of making a point.* I can walk around town all I want completely unsupervised! *He doesn't sound angry, and he's not. He's just doing that automatically-appalled thing that he does.*

Once-ler: *Turns to face him.* Well, from what happened last time, you can understand why I wouldn't want you to be unsupervised around here. No slapping women! Or getting into trouble! This place is my place, it belongs to me its Thneedville. So I'm not letting you go out alone here.

Warden: Okay! Okay, geez, Mister Territory-Pants *Throws up hands in defeat.* What would you suggest? I'm not following you around all day doing accounts! *Grumpy face, hands on his hips.* If I wanted to do that I'd just leash myself to Jared's big, stupid head.

Once-ler: *Huffs in thought and thinks- that’s a good point. Then chuckles at the little Jared insult* It is big, isn't it?

Warden: Like, enormous, am I right? *Measures it in his hands, momentarily distracted.*

Once-ler: *Keeps laughing at him* Haha-! Totally~

Warden: *Frowns* Ababab! Don't distract me. *Grumpy point. However, throughout all this he's still been perfectly happy and in his usual safe half-sane space. No breakdowns or real arguments seem likely. He folds his arms.* Are you gonna arrange me a babysitter or something? *Sounds like he'll put up with it to humour Oncie's 'insane overprotectiveness'.*

Once-ler: Ppppffffff... *Rubs his neck* I don't know any-...I wonder who I could hire... *He ponders for a looong time, genuinely considering hiring a minder for his own boyfriend, which causes the Warden to almost start spluttering in incredulity, and then gives up with a little smirk.* Alright. *The smile drops and he looks him dead-on and serious.* You can go out alone, if you promise not to get into any trouble. No fights, no tantrums, nothing. *Smiles, softening his voice.* You gotta be good and polite and nice to people. You're not the Warden here, okay? You're Edmund Theremiah, so act normal and mature, okay?

Warden: *Squints in submission.* Fiiiine. *Hates the thought of being 'Edmund Theremiah'. It sounds boring and uninteresting, and he takes GREAT pride in never being boring and uninteresting.* Scouts honour. Best behaviour. *Stuffs his hand in his pockets and kicks a rock poutily.* I'll be good.

Once-ler: *Smiles at him calmly* Good~ Because you’ll be in trouble if you aren't, you hear me?

Warden: *Juts out his jaw in grumpiness again.* Yes Oncie. *Deflates slightly.* Stupid Thneedville. Can I go now? *Sounds so childish.*

Once-ler: Here, take this. Then if anyone questions you, you can just tell them that you know the Once-ler. *Reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pink truffula pin that usually goes on the lapel of his green tailcoat. *Strokes under the Warden's jaw and then pulls him into a little peck on the lips. Then tilts his head to the town.* Okay, off you go then.

Warden: *Blinks innocently when he sees the pin and takes it from his hand* Uuh- *The peck comes as a surprise, he pecks back with pink cheeks and a small eyelash flutter, then jumps up and down on the spot a few times.* Yeah! See you later, Oncie! *Pockets the pin and then leaps off to go and explore.*

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Once-ler: *Stood outside his factory gates in his green suit, all dressed up for opening his factory again. He's holding a pair of scissors, cameras are flashing everywhere and girl are screaming at him.* -And I am very proud to finally re-open the new and eco-friendly Thneed factory!~ *Cuts the red ribbon across the gate. People are cheering and photographers are flashing, journalists go to smuggle him.*

Lorax: *He's sitting on top of a small wall nearby, watching the proceedings. He refuses to go down just yet because he hates publicity- especially after the media circus he was dragged into when Oncie ran the factory before. All that 'Lorax approved' bullshit left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he looks proud of him now and has already had a peek at all the inner workings of the factory. So far it honestly looks eco-friendly, and so he's very pleased. Cautious, but pleased.*

Once-ler: *After talking to a few reporters, talking to a few fans and signing a few thneeds, shirts, bra's and breasts, he eventually starts to bat a few of the bothersome public away.* That's enough attention for one day I think, thank you all for coming~ Once-ler out. *Enters his factory and shuts the door behind him, letting out a tired sigh as he does, but he straightens and walks to his office. He goes over to his huge balcony and leans over the edge of it, smiling broadly at the very few truffula trees that managed to survive his onslaught and then dropping his smile when his eyes fall on the many stumps he left behind. He chews on his cheek… He should really do something about them.*

Lorax: So! Looks like you managed to turn it all around, huh? *He's above Oncie's head, sitting on the top of the window-frame with his little legs dangling over the edge.* You look tired. You been eating properly?

Once-ler: Hm? *Looks up at him and smiles. He's gotten so used to the Lorax randomly popping up in places that it doesn't make him jump anymore. He can almost predict when it'll happen by now, which isn’t something he can say for the Warden just yet.* Oh, naah, I'm fine. It's just difficult to be in Superjail and have everything else here. *Rubs his face with both hands and yawns out a word-* Tiring. *Sniffs.* All these fans and reporters too. But I can handle them, no problem.

Lorax: *Jumps down and lands in front of Oncie's feet.* Aww, well make sure you get enough Zs, got it? I don't like the thought of you runnin' yourself out. *Turns around to look up at the much nicer factory and gives a low whistle.* You know, much as I hate commerce and capitalism and all that crap, you really have done me proud. This is somethin' good. *After how far they've come together, he knows that those words are ones that will mean the world to him. He looks back over his shoulder at Oncie with a smile.* So where's your guy? He back in that jail of his?

Once-ler: *Smiles broadly at him, feeling very happy with himself that the Lorax feels that way about his hard work. There’s a warm swell in his stomach at hearing those words of pride, and that sort of feeling is so rare to him. He goes quiet for a moment, so happy he's finally been able to please him and hasn't messed up this time.* No, he came with me here. But he's out right now to explore Thneedville. *His voice sounds a little unsure at the end, and his smile has relaxed a little. It's more like a slight mask over his worry.*

Lorax: *Sounds very sympathetic as he groans,* Uh-ooohhh... And Thneedville's still standin'? *Turns around properly to face Oncie as they talk.* Ah, he's probably fine. *Gives him an encouraging smile.* That town is harmless - he's the most dangerous thing in it. You've got nothin' to worry about. *Still sounds more like he's comforting Oncie than actually giving his honest opinion.*

Once-ler: Yeah, exactly! I'm not just worried about him, I'm worried about the town. He doesn't know this place very well and this place doesn't know him at all. *And maybe the fact that the Warden might be the most dangerous thing in Thneedville isn’t actually that reassuring.* But- yeah... I'm sure everything will be fine.

Lorax: And if not, it's nothin' you can't fix. *Gives him a grin and holds out a paw for him to take.* So! You got a kitchen in this place? I'm starved and I'm sure you owe me a meal for somethin' or other.

Once-ler: Haha- sure *Takes his hand but pulls him up onto his shoulder. Then walks back in, removing his hat and placing it on his chair.* So how've you been? I haven't seen you since I got my eyesight back.

Lorax: *Punches the side of his head gently.* And it's damn good to see you... Seein' again! You gave me the shock of my damn life. *Relaxes.* But I've been keepin'. Joints gettin' stiffer every day I swear to God. *Gives a happy hum. As old as he is, he's got a ton of years left in him.* But nothin' much is different. Had to screw with a couple of lumberjacks up in the Arctic National Preserve and then make it down in time to stop an oil drillin' down in the swamps of Tennessee. Whole lotta trekkin'.

Once-ler: *Laughs at his ‘seeing’ joke, and can only laugh more in relief at the fact that whole chapter is over now.* Aaah, man, that sounds like a busy day. *Pulls his gloves off and drops them onto his desk as he walks to the kitchen.* Did you fix it in the end?

Lorax: *Heavy sigh.* Temporarily. They're more thick-headed than you were. *Gives him a friendly hair-ruffle, showing that he didn't really mean it.* Just once I'd like a guy to go "Gee, maybe the little fella is right. Let's all go home and have some hot cocoa." *Pauses, then adds.* "And while we're at it, let's invite the little fella over for that, too." *Frowns* Geez, I really am hungry.

Once-ler: *Laughs.* That's where we're going now. Anyway, it certainly worked on me... eventually. And you can come to mine for cocoa anytime you want~ *Gets to the factory kitchen.* What do you wanna eat?

Lorax: *Jumps onto a countertop.* A cheese sandwich would go down well right about now. *Frowns to add gravity to what he's saying.* A responsibly farmed cheese sandwich. You humans have a way to make everything suspect. *While he still seems very proud and happy for Oncie, he's got the grumpiness of a guy who's just come of a far too-busy day's work.*

Once-ler: Uh- ahaha, sure.*Begins making him a sandwich, sometimes feeling awkward about his race when the Lorax starts complaining about them, but he supposes it’s justified considering what he himself did to his forest. It is the critters job after all.*

Lorax: *Bops up and down on his heels as he waits in excitement for the sandwich.* So how are things with you? Besides being all better? He proposed to you yet or whatever? *Sounds like he's kidding.*

Once-ler: Pfffthbth! *Gets a little embarrassed and shakes his head quickly.* NO! *Gives him the plate with the sandwich on and pouts with a raised eyebrow.* Of course not.

Lorax: *Cackles in a joking meanness before stuffing the sandwich in his mouth.* Well good. You're still far too young! *Points his sandwich at him... or the crust of it, which is already all that's left.*

Once-ler: Thank God! I hope that doesn't cross his mind *Scratches his neck and laughs.* I have a feeling I wouldn't have a choice if he demanded it, if anything because he’s such a romantic and he’d love an excuse to throw a party about us.

Lorax: *Gnaws on the crust of bread.* Would you say no if you had the choice? *Sounds amused and gossipy, but he's always been a little worried about their relationship. Anybody responsible would be.*

Once-ler: *Thinks to himself, tapping his finger on his chin, and then nods slowly.* I know we're like, together and stuff, but just feels weird to get married to a guy, ya know? My mom is really old fashioned in that way, *he sighs,* I doubt she’d ever approve of us, not that she approves of me much anyway. So I guess it's hard to think otherwise. *He shakes his head.* I'm way too young anyway to even think about marriage.

Lorax: *Nods* Smart. Don't tie yourself down to that place. *Still, his expression darkens.* Call me a new-age tree-hugger or whatever you want to call it, but your mom is full of trash. *Finishes sandwich decisively. He's had a long day, and he's not got the energy to put things in a nice way.* You marry a guy if you want to.

Once-ler: *Jolts at hearing the insult to him mom and then panics a little.* Hey! She is not. Don’t say that about my mom. *He’s still in some denial about who his mom really is. He always has been, but at the very least he just thinks it’s rude to say such things about a man’s mother. He’s still finding it difficult to digest what she really is.*

Lorax: Ppft. *Flaps his hand at him but doesn't press the issue. Recently he's been more respectful of Oncie's family- at least when talking about them to Oncie- but he has no patience for it today.* Alright, fair enough. The important thing is that you can marry whoever you want. Whether that be man, woman, or manchild.

Once-ler: *Still tense about that comment, but tries to get back into the conversation.* No- yeah, I know. And it's not that I wouldn’t want to some day... *Gets a little fuzzy feeling.* Like- it'd be totally awesome! I mean- so awesome! *Getting a little excited but relaxes.* And I would, just not now, not this early. I can't get married to someone who won’t say he loves me.

Lorax: *A biiig cat-like grin crosses his face when Oncie gets excited, but it falls immediately when he finishes that sentence.* Wait, what?! After all the crap you've helped him with he's still holdin' out on you?! The jerk! *Dusts his hands clean from crumbs.*

Once-ler: *Looks back at him wide-eyed and quickly realises he said that wrong, and tries to correct his screw up.* N- no, no! I didn't mean it like that. *Trots forward and puts his hands out to the Lorax* He does love me! He just cant say it. But he does. He definitely does! But he can’t admit it.

Lorax: *Squints at him, not sounding very pleased.* Explain.

Once-ler: *Cowers a little. He has no choice but to obey his surrogate parent now. He shrugs.* He- just can’t. He's very complicated. *He sighs.* Right, this is all very new to him, I think he has a real struggle about saying those words, he seems to think that every time he admits to loving something, he gets punished for it. *He frowns* His dad used to tell him it was bad, that it makes things weak and useless to know love. He trusts me more than anyone but its still in there. *That angry frown becomes a sad one.* I think he thinks that whatever he loves will always die, usually by his own hands, whether that’s forced on him or an accident or… I don’t know. *He looks to him with big remorseful eyes.* I think that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to admit it, I've been in more than enough accidents thanks to him. But he does feel it because he's almost been able to say it to me! It’s just that the words get caught in his throat.

Lorax: *Sighs. He's always had his worries, but he does respect that Oncie can handle it.* You'll be the death of me, you know that? *Gestures for Oncie to come over for a hug.* C'mere. Damn, kid, you've got a whole lot baggage wrapped up in this relationship, huh?

Once-ler: *Enters the hug like a normal grip, but half way though he hears that last sentence and his weight falls onto the Lorax in mental exhaustion. It does take a lot to handle the Warden, along with all of his other work, and he does so well to completely hide it that it never crosses his mind. No-one's brought it up before, not even himself, and to hear the Lorax so perfectly know him and know exactly what he thinks, it makes him drop it all out on him accidentally. Like it's okay for him to admit that it's tiring him. He doesn’t even have the strength to respond to that at the moment, he’s too bewildered by that last comment.*

Lorax: Woooaaah, you're okay. *Crumples a little with the sudden weight, but manages okay and gives him a big hug, stroking his hair gently once he's regained his balance.*

Once-ler: *Nods into him but doesn't leave the hug.* I'm fine- I'm fine.

Lorax: Of course you are. *Continues to stroke his hair, one little hand sorting out any stray flicks while the other just holds him.* But if you weren't that'd be okay too.

Once-ler: *Shakes his head.* It wouldn't. *He's not had a breakdown since he's been in Superjail. It's been a long time since he last snapped. He's had the odd cry every now and then, but that’s about it. It was probably when his dad left, or something his mother did, or most likely when the stocks of Thneeds crashed, not that they ever have in reality. There is always so much going on in Superjail, and as much as it all is too much for him sometimes, it’s as if it’s impossible to dwell on anything for too long because you need to be prepared for the next thing. Maybe that’s why it exists in the first place, to keep the Warden’s mind from thinking too much. In a way that’s good, but at the same time it forces a lot of things to become repressed and compressed, until suddenly, someone’s having a breakdown, whether that’s an inmate finally snapping, Jared returning to tears and drinking again, or the Warden literally falling apart at the seams and going on a crying-murder spree. And it was almost him the other day. If the Warden hadn’t been fixed by that rant then there’s a good chance the Once-ler would have given up too. It’s not just that though… How could he ever have the time to have his own breakdown when he’s so busy trying to help the Warden with all of his?*

Lorax: Kid, it'd always be fine. If it's not fine around your fella then it's always fine around me. I can take it. *Takes Oncie's cheeks and makes him look at him. He's frowning, but it's the frown of a kindly father, rather than any form of disappointment.* Bein' around him has turned you into one a' the most amazing people I've ever seen - he's challenged you and forced you to grow and, *he smiles,* now look at you. All grown up and already too good for anybody I can think of. *Rests their foreheads together, glaring at him straight in the eyes.* I can't tell you how proud I am of you. But part of bein' so strong and so capable is knowing when it's okay to stop.

Once-ler: *He hadn’t expected to feel a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t want to, but everything the Lorax says is exactly what he's been waiting to hear. He lets out a quiet, dry sob as he sighs out and then his arms loop around his fluffy friend and cling closely to him. It’s being told that the Lorax is proud of him, the Lorax proud of him after all he did to the forest, that makes a few small tears prick up at the corner of his eyes.* Th- Thank you, *He sniffs a few times, clenching his eyes shut in an attempt to blink away the tears, but a lump still resting in his throat.*

Lorax: *Gives a short chuckle that rumbles through his fur, hugging Oncie tightly.* It's what I'm here for. *Rubs the back of his head, keeping Oncie tightly pressed against his fluffy, warm body. He lets him sniffle all he needs.*

Once-ler: *Sniff against him and squeezes the hug for moments and then pulls away to wipe his eyes. His shoulders hang heavily but he sighs out and feels a little better.*

Lorax: *Smiles at him in a calm and loving way.* You gonna be okay tonight?

Once-ler: *Nods* I… *His chest shudders with an outward breath and he gives him a weak smile.* I should be.

Lorax: *Chuckles at him.* I'm sure your Warden won't mind. He might not even notice if you don't sniff too often. *Plods over to the roll of kitchen paper towels and tears a piece off, then holds it up for him.*

Once-ler: *Chuckles back at his little tease and takes the tissue to finish up mopping his eyes.*

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Once-ler: *It’s the evening after the Once-ler had finished sorting what he needed to in his factory, he’s been waiting at home for the Warden, but so far he’s heard nothing from him and he hasn’t returned from Thneedville. He’d tried to contact his communicator but no-one answered, he even went to look for him in Thneedville after work and couldn’t find him, he called Jared just in case he might have returned to Superjail for whatever reason and he was told they’ve seen no sign of him. As much as he wants to helicopter around him to make sure nothing bad is happening, he does want to trust him on his own- he doesn’t want to go back out to look for him and turn the whole town upside down, looking like a maniac in the process. It’s just that it’s getting to the point now, as he paces around the lower ground of his Lerkim and checks his pocket watch while the day gets later, that he really thinks he should go and turn the town upside down. He doesn't know what to do, he paces his living room while trying to think of a solution, his fingertips in his mouth to chew on and his eyes tense with concern. He thought he’d be okay, but now he’s disappeared and Once-ler doesn’t know what to do or where to go, and he has no idea why he let him go alone. He looks a bit of a mess, in his half/half outfit with his braces hanging down from his waist. Too worried to make himself look that presentable.*

*There's a brisk knock on the door.*

Once-ler: *Jumps a little at the knock and then goes over to the door, suddenly feeling a wave of relief as he hopes that that’s the Warden returning after his day out, but then he considers that it’s a little strange the Warden would knock when he would usually just stumble in and announce his presence. Unless he really took what he said that morning in his office seriously. He winces, straightens himself up and tries to make his appearance better, but he hopes to heaven that it’ll be his boyfriend. He clears his throat, and then opens the door.*

*Outside is a stern-looking, boring man in a white lab coat. He has thick glasses and looks like an immovable, business-like sort. He waits for the door to be answered before speaking, being too strict and professional to call through the house.*

Once-ler: *Looks the man up and down with a confused, slightly concerned frown.* Uuh... Can I help you?..

Doctor: *He nods, his face expressionless.* I am truly sorry to bother you, Mr. Once-ler, but I'm here on behalf of the Thneedville Psychiatric Institute. *Flaps his hand a little in small gesture.* Merely a formality we have to conduct, but we have a patient with us who insists that he knows you. You'll understand that we have a number of patients who make claims of knowing celebrities and usually we don't follow these accusations up, but he's been very insistent. *Coolly he reaches into his pocket and brings out the lapel pin that Oncie owns, the one with the small truffula tuft.* He also had this on his possession. We simply want to make sure that he's deluded, for the sake of his ongoing treatment. He claims to be... *briefly fishes for the word,* a jailer of some sort. *Seems a little embarrassed by how ridiculous a house call this must seem.*

Once-ler: *Squints and tilts his head at him as he listens, wanting to ask questions but they get answered straight away. His tongue goes numb, but he thinks for a moment that this could be a misunderstanding, but then he reveals the pin. He stares at it with horror and takes it slowly, his eyes having to be forced away from it to look at the man again. His stomach has been getting tighter all through this explanation, still clinging onto hope that this could still not be real,but his stomach plummets at the last thing said, and he stares at the man it utter shock, feeling sick to his stomach* No- he’s in a-? *He gasps, suddenly knowing what that means. He feels like he might be sick. He snaps out of it, trying to act sensible and try not to panic, but he is, and suddenly he grabs his coat and top-hat* Thank you. *Then bolts out of his house, almost knocking the man over and slamming his door shut.*

*This is his town, he funds all of its institutions, he practically runs it and he knows where everything is and the quickest way to get to places. In just a few minutes he’s at the asylum and bursts in, slamming the doors open as if anyone would dare to tell him not to. He’s The Once-ler, he practically owns this town, he built it into what it is today. If he wasn’t there then it wouldn’t be able to run properly without him, let alone have such a great economy, and everyone knows it. He bursts in, his tailcoat fluttering behind him like a demons cape and his hat stretched up to the ceiling as intimidating as one of his factory chimneys, puffing the smoke he burns to keep all these businesses alive.*

Receptionist: *Jolts upright at the sudden entrance and in a small explosion papers addresses him nervously.* Oh! Mr. Once-ler! Can I help you? *A few people are picking up and moving damaged furniture and strewn documents from the reception area- something akin to a hurricane passed through here at some point. Clearly the Warden didn't go down without a fight.* Th-this is very sudden- do you have an appointment? *Everything here is very normal and grey, though it does have the rounded edges and slightly off-kilter angles and asymmetry of any Thneedville building - nothing out of the ordinary as far as Thneedville goes, very professional. There's a small piece of very worrying information, however. Perched on top of the receptionist's outbox are the Warden's glasses- a glint of bright yellow in this otherwise drab place. Of course he wouldn't be allowed to wear them if he were an inpatient. They'll be taken to a small holding area until he's let go... but that could be any time.*

Once-ler: *He stops for a moment to look at the mess, he doesn’t even have to question it, he knows it was the Warden's fighting back that caused such a chaos and it makes him worry even more. Then he snaps his head over to the receptionist and struts over to her dangerously* Do I need a goddamn appointment?! Do you really need to ask me th- *Then his eyes catch the glint of yellow and they notice the Warden's glasses. His mouth goes dry and his eyes look at them in complete horror. Okay- NOW he’s panicking. And he whispers, terrified* Y- you-... took them off him.

Receptionist: *Recoils a little.* Uh, well yes! Of course! They'd be classified as... as contraband... sir. *Pauses and tries to avoid looking at him head on- intimidated by him immensely.* I assume... that this means you're here to see the man who was brought in last night? The, uh, *makes very, very meek quote signs with her fingers,* "prison warden"?

Once-ler: *Scowls at her when she quotes with her hands and places both hands on hers and pushes them down.* He is a prison warden, and everything he says is the truth. He knows me. *Clears his throat and tries to calm down- this isn’t her fault.* He was brought in here last night you say? Why? What for? *He demands an answer quickly.*

Receptionist: *Panics a little and immediately starts typing at the computer to one side, pulling up the Warden's record.* Oh, um. *Reads, readjusting her glasses* He was found at the scene of a fight. Apparently there were, uh, weapons involved. He was brought here instead of to the police station because... well... *She ducks a little, not wanting to be the one to say it.* He was claiming some rather outlandish things. I'm sorry, Mr. Once-ler, sir, but I'm not legally allowed to say any more than that. *Quickly adds, hoping to get rid of him as soon as possible.* Would you want to be taken to him now?

Once-ler: *Is about to snap more demands but stops immediately at the question. That’s definitely what he wants out of this, so it works to get him to go away* Yes please. Right now.

Receptionist: *Immediately snaps her fingers at one of the men in coats walking around.* Excuse me! Could you take Mr. Once-ler to see our newest patient? He's... uh... *She looks to the Once-ler and then immediately lies to make things easier.* Family! Yes.

Doctor: *He squints at the Once-ler, then takes some documents from the receptionist's desk. He cringes.* That patient? I'm afraid he's not approved for visitation right now. *He looks down at the notes and snaps them to a clipboard.* If you are family, we will require some... *Again his eyes rest on the Once-ler, knowing exactly who he is but being as careful as possible in regards to protocol...* Documentation.

Once-ler: *He doesn't like the way he said 'that patient'. His brow tightens and his shoulders stiffen at the resistance shown.* There is no paperwork because the man is no longer in contact with his biological family. I'm his significant other. We have photos together, his things are in my house, and the fact that you picked him up with my lapel pin in his possession and I'm not charging him for being a stalking fan but instead am here trying to represent him, should prove we have a relationship. *He breathes in a sharp breath and huff it out of his nostrils like a steaming bull. He tries to hide the pain in his next statement.* He has no one but me who can care for him. *He points his finger sharply down at the ground.* I demand to see him!

Doctor: *He appears completely dispassionate as the Once-ler talks, even though he believes the man is telling the truth - he is the Once-ler after all, everyone knows that and this is Thneedville - because this isn't a court of law and he isn't looking to be convinced. There is protocol to follow, documents to be inspected, because if they make a mistake by taking a shortcut then they could be sued into the ground.* You can demand all you want, sir, but I'm afraid that until I see documentation proving that your relationship is as you say it is, we can't allow visitation until he's gone through our screening process. He was violent with the nurses as he was brought in, and we have no guarantees that this won't continue to be the case. *When he says 'violent', it's highly likely that he just resisted them as they dragged him in.* He’s a very sick man.

Once-ler: *Takes a step forward assertively but not aggressively, and he cuts in before the man can really finish.* He won't be aggressive to me! *One eye squints and he snarls,* But alright, if you want to play that game, how about this for 'documentation'. When was your last unscheduled routine humanitarian check at this establishment, huh? *Straightens up and folds his arms.* By Thneedville law you're permitted to accept an unscheduled visit by a city representative to check that the treatments, handling and facilities provided to patients are humane and up to human rights standards at all times. *Places his hand on his chest and raises his eyebrow.* As the city's main representative, I've authority to instigate this operation when I see fit, as well as appoint the individual in charge of carrying it out, which can also be myself. So consider it your unscheduled investigation, and I request to see the most recent and most volatile patient checked into the facility within the last twenty-four hours to best review these conditions. *He frowns.* I wouldn't recommend objecting to this kind of operation, it tends to look very bad for an institution of people holding medical licenses.

Doctor: *His eyes widen. Oh crap. He straightens up coldly, his shoulders drawing back defensively and his chin lifting, and for a moment he looks him dead in the eyes, lifting his head slightly as if almost daring to challenge him before remembering who he is. Cold grey eyes unpleasantly squinting. They haven’t had an investigation in a long time. The cultural era that they exist in Thneedville doesn’t pay much attention to the well being of mental patients, but if he doesn’t let the Once-ler in to see just the one patient, then he might put a bigger focus on them overall. He might take it to the press and demand a large-scale investigation as revenge, but maybe if he’s let to see the one man then that’ll be all he wants. Finally he quakes, watching the Once-ler's bright blue glare, as the math clicks and he feels a tiny shudder rattle through him. He is the Once-ler after all, and he’s caught him in a bit of a tough place with all that practical, systematic business talk especially when he tried to just throw the same at him about protocol. He's forced to nod with a slightly unhappy curl to his nose.* Very well. Right this way.

*The receptionist moves to escort him, but the doctor holds up his hand.*

Doctor: No-no, I'll handle this. Right this way, Mr. Once-ler. *He turns on his heel almost like a soldier and glides on sharp feet down the corridors of the facility. He doesn’t seem particularly happy with the way the Once-ler has worked around the rules, but he can’t say anything, the man is too powerful. Never the less, he is hiding an attitude with a bitter sneer, holding his head up and glaring out the corner of his eye at the businessman. The doctors here don’t like it when outsiders try sniffing around their patients and the facilities, they just want to get on with their jobs, with unfeeling. What does the Once-ler anyway? He doesn’t know better than they could about this sick man and what he needs.* You will see that we have everything up to code when it comes to exiling lunacy. Out here are our less volatile inpatients, but I'll take you to our secure wing where the worst are. You’ll see, since you’re here to review our establishment, that the mad man you’re talking about is in the perfect place. *There’s the tiniest hiss sound from his nose that indicates a smirk. To him, the people here are nothing more than animals.*

Once-ler: *His eyes are just as unfeeling to the man’s opinion or reaction, even more so, because he owns this damn town and no-one dares to look at him like this man is daring to. He either doesn't know who he is, which is ridiculous, or he's the most stupid man on the planet to exist in Thneedville and look down his nose at The Once-ler like that. Especially when he's standing in the way of something the man wants and will take. He won't be stopped, nothing can stop him, the only thing this man will succeed in is guaranteeing to make his own life worse by trying to slow the businessman down. He lifts his own head and if he were some sort of demonic creature, his claws and fangs would be unfurling at him right now; he's lucky that they're meant to be existing in a civilised society else the Once-ler would have torn him to shreds as easily as the Warden does to the prisoners in Superjail. ‘The perfect place?’ He picked up on that vile, snarky tone towards himself and his boyfriend- his boyfriend who right now is vulnerable and suffering in his worst nightmare. One thing is for certain, this man is losing his job by the end of today whether or not he's taking him down to the Warden right now. He could write a very convincing report on him and have it approved in seconds. He's not in the mood to stare down a more pathetic predator that apparently doesn't know what lions nest it's poking at.* Good. *He says when the man states where he’s taking him, the word coming out as a stab as he follows him down.*

*Naturally he doesn't really care about the facility's humanitarian standards protocol right now, the Warden is the only thing on his mind and he wants to go there immediately, he doesn't even look around or pay attention to the man as he describes the hallways, but he will write a report like he promised once he has his boyfriend back, and as he makes his way through the corridors, he does start to see just how miserable this place is as well as hear the distressed sounds groaning from the rooms… It reminds him of Superjail on a slow day. Maybe he should investigate here- the thought comes to mind for a moment.

He's a man of doing things by the books most of the time, if he declares an investigation then he'll follow through, if he promises a report then he'll write one, but that's already played them perfectly into his hands now and he knows it. They might call his bluff here, thinking he's just using this reason as an excuse to get into the facility and humouring it to save their reputation, when really he wont write a report in the end. But they would be wrong to do that, because this isn't just a one-off excuse to get into the facility, he knows full well that he's opened up the door to further threats that he'll follow through with. Oh he'll write a report, and it'll drag them all through the mud so violently that they'll forget their names because his own will be etched into their ID cards like branded cattle.* Mh-hm. And Doctor. *That last comment stings. Do they talk about all of their vulnerable patients like that? He nods his head when he's told they're going to the secure wing. Then he looks to the Doctor and scowls at him like a feral mountain wolf ready to claw his eyes out. If he's going to get what he wants, people here need to remember who they're talking to in this city. He seethes with a dark voice.* Don't you ever look down your fucking nose at me again, and don’t you ever say anything like that about one of your patients either, or you can kiss your medical license goodbye. *He's lucky he's only losing his job, maybe then he'll learn the most blatantly obvious lesson of the town named after the Once-ler's very vision.*

*The doctor doesn't mess around, taking him straight to the room with their most volatile and most recent patient, but he nevertheless points out the important things as they make their way through - maintaining the paper-thin pretense of legitimacy. This place, like all of Thneedville, is filled with swirling tubes, old-fashioned copper machinery, big buttons beside each rounded door with chunky plaques declaring the rhyming name of each ward or in-patient. It's a large place, or maybe just seems that way because of its labyrinthine layout, but beyond pointing out the appropriate security measures, the basic facilities and gesturing towards continued areas of the building, the doctor says nothing. Like all of Thneedville, this place was sponsored by the Once-ler himself to some degree if not designed outright by him, so it's all good. It's just, unfortunately, old-fashioned.*

Doctor: *Turns when the Once-ler speaks to him. He doesn't expect the way in which he's spoken to, or the dark tone of the man's voice, and it honestly shocks him. He definitelydoesn’t expect the cursing, because thneedville is almost ‘family-friendly’ in the way it’s inhabitants barely acknowledge curse words to be a part of language. It makes him gulp. He isn't about to fight the man, both because he wouldn’t be that dumband also because he's a professional doctor in his place of work, and drops his steel-grey expression immediately. Suddenly his ego vanishes over realising how seriously the business man is about all this. He can’t even see what’s wrong with speaking about one of these patients like that- Is he actually going to investigate them?* O- of course, Mr. Once-ler.

*They get to the door at the end of the secure wing - another rounded door with a little, wonky, barred window, with a big red button to the side and a plaque that says 'Max Security'.*

Doctor: Here we are, sir. *He thumps his fist on the big red button, and the door swings open.*

*The Warden is lying on the ground of his padded cell, curled up and facing away from the door. It's difficult to judge what state he's in, but it's never a good sign when the Warden is sitting still. Sitting still and wearing a straitjacket. Only that and the hospital patient uniform, which is a grey and shapeless outfit with nothing to cover his feet. It's the last thing he'd ever choose to wear himself.*

Doctor: I have.. aah.. much to do, and he's not dangerous like that. *Likely he just wants to get the hell away from the lions gaze. He passes Oncie a small buzzer.* Let the nurse know when you're ready to leave- visiting hours shut at six. *Gives a small awkward frown* Usually patients in the maximum security area aren't allowed to have visitors in the first place, but since it's you... *He knows Oncie owns their ass. He won't do anything.*

Once-ler: *He gasps, his heart breaking when he sees that curled up, limp figure, and if he had zero social instincts, he’d have sprinted over and curled over him by now just to hug him up and protect him. Instead he takes the buzzer off of the doctor.* Right. Thank you.*He waits for him to leave and then steps into the room. His face drops at the sight, he can’t even see the Warden yet, and yet he can feel how much confused agony he’s in. Hopefully it'll be somewhat less painful once he knows that Oncie came for him. Taking a deep breath he goes over to him, his feet picks up with a desperate need to be with him but also not wanting to startle him with sudden movement, and squats next to him. Then places a very light hand on the wardens shoulder and turns him over to face him.* Warden? It's me, The Once-ler. *Gulps, his mouth is dry and his heart is racing.*

Warden: *He's easily rolled over, and the scary thing is that he doesn't even flinch at the sudden touch. He's limp and docile even though he's conscious. He does, however, immediately wince and let out a small, pathetic moan when he meets Oncie's eyes and their brightness hurts him. Without any usual trappings - no hat, no glasses, not even any fancy clothing - he just looks like a crazy middle-aged man. Not a rich eccentric, or some wacky visionary. Just a very tired and sad old man. Still, he loosely smiles up at his saviour, even if it doesn't look like he believes the other man is really with him, and even if it almost takes him a moment to recognise him. It’d have taken longer though, if it weren’t for those blue eyes. More like he's humouring his own mental images.* Hello Oncie~ *He speaks slow, like he's having to concentrate in order to form words. He then corrects Oncie calling him 'Warden'.* It's Edmund.

Once-ler: *He can’t stand to look at what’s in front of him and just wishes this was an awful nightmare, his heart pounding in his chest, chased by horror so fast that it’s begging his brain to wake him up. How could they do this? He knows he’s unstable, he knows he has problems, but he still can’t imagine something so bad, so depressing, so directly out of the worse pages of the warden’s worst fate, happening to his little bunny of a boyfriend. He has no idea what the Warden is thinking or what’s going on his head but he can see that he’s been completely sedated by them, bound and left in a dark corner- the poor thing. Once he's corrected and been told to call him by his actual name, he gasps and swallows as his heart thumps with grief and worry. He doesn’t know what that means, what state of mind that means he’s in, but he holds himself together and grips the Warden’s shoulder a little tighter.* O- okay. Um- E- Edmund? H-how are you feeling? *He’s not entirely sure what the hell he’s meant to say here, but it’s worth asking the question.*

Warden: *His body can actually be felt untensing when Oncie touches him - as defeated as he is, Oncie is still his safe place. Apparently it's so deeply ingrained now that it's instinct.* It hurts. *Sounds a little pouty, but not in the usual joking, playful way. It's the pout of a real child who can't handle what's happened to him.* This jacket. *Gives a very half-hearted fidget.* And.... everything is very... dull. *Shuts his eyes tight all of a sudden.* And too close. *Curls up a little more, tensing up again.* Right in front of me. *He has no shield in front of his eyes. Those glasses are a barrier that have always kept the world out, and kept him in a nice fantasy world. Now he's clamped up in a ball, eyes scrunched up closed.* I missed you. *Now sounds slightly blaming. He's jumping all over the place because he can't hold a thought in his head for very long.* Where were you?

Once-ler: *Watches him with concerns and horror, but then that blame comes and hits him to his core. He completely blames himself for the position the Warden is in, the guilt is starting to drill a hole through his chest, he hisses at the grief and pain in his stomach, but having it directly pointed at him by the suffering man makes it all the more real. He messed up. He shouldn’t have let him go out alone, he knew he'd get into trouble and now he might have truly scarred him for life. Sure, the Warden might have been erratic, but he knows how his boyfriend was last time, and he knows his townsfolk, and the only reason why he let him go along was because he was too focused on work. Now he’s kicking himself for it. The business isn’t important, the money isn’t important, this is important! He leans forward and presses his face to the Warden's, sliding his arms around him and squeezing him into a close embrace. He feels cold.* I'm sorry. *He gasps and shakes his head* I’m so sorry. I- I'm here now though. I'm here. And I'm gong to get you out, okay? *He plants a slow lingering kiss on the Warden’s head, one protective and promising, as he feels his throat close up.*

Warden: *Another small, sad whimper escapes his throat and he shuffles forward as best as he can into the cuddling and kissing. He's not quite coordinated to kiss back.* I.... *For a moment he sort of drifts off, like he's lost focus, but then he returns with a small shake of his head - like a nervous twitch.* I always do this. *His voice is quavering and almost a whisper. His body is trembling, too, weakened and reacting unfavourably to whatever cocktail of sedatives they've given him. The scary thing is, though, that even if he weren't drugged he'd probably be just as still and broken.* Why... why can't I handle being Edmund? *Presses his face into Oncie's collarbone. He has this low-grade terror running through him for as long as he's without his glasses, but after a whole day of that he's snapped and this has somehow made him okay to talk while internally screaming.* They said there's no War... Warden... but I'm not good at being normal. S- *He has trouble getting the last word out.* Sane.

Once-ler: *Hugs him tightly and lowers his voice, because that’s all he can do to force it to be comforting and kind rather than panicking. It’s what the Warden needs, but his chest is fluttering and there’s a lump in his throat.* I shouldn’t have said- I didn’t mean- *He tries to smile, feeling guilty for asking him to act normal earlier that morning.* You shouldn’t have to be normal because you're special, remember? I told you, people can’t see that yet. All sane people are boring anyway. *He tries to let out a little laugh but he pauses for a moment as his nose becomes tingly and he wells up. He stuffs his face into the Wardens neck and clings tightly onto him.* You are the Warden, he is real, and so is Superjail, and we’re going to go back there the moment I get you out. I’m going to take you home. I promise. *He searches for the buzzer and presses it to call someone in.*

Warden: *He's too drugged to cry, or even feel much beyond the floaty, hazy emotions he's swimming through right now. But he does feel Oncie's tears.* Don't cry... *Sounds like he's attempting to be comforting, even with his voice sounding half-asleep.* You're not in trouble... *He sees Oncie press the button and foggily realises that people are going to come in and interrupt them. He gives a short, futile, struggle.* No... no don't call them... I need to- There's something I meant to say. *Falters, looking scared.* I think... I don't know. *Winces.* It's hard to concentrate... *Slightly begging sound, like he wants Oncie to fix his head.* Oncie...

Once-ler: *He places his hands on the Warden's face and looks at him with worry, feeling a jolt of sickness as the Warden begs him.* What? What is it? *He breathes in and out heavily.* I- Its okay. I'm still staying here with you. I wont move an inch, so then I need them to come to me because I won’t leave you, okay? *He pulls him into his chest again and cuddles him. He’s going to fix this. He swears on his life that he’s going to fix this.*

Warden: *Looks very troubled, but also like he's somewhere else. He's not able to fight the drugs combined with the protective fog his brain is trying to wrap itself up with. It won't let him come to his senses, because if he actually realises what's happened and where he is there's no telling what sort of damage that'll do to him. He's already been utterly destroyed- this is his mind's last-ditch defense effort.* It's just... I...

*At that point two nurses come to the door and hurry in. The door is swung open, and just as the Warden immediately sees them, he pushes his head into Oncie's shoulder, diving as heard as he can into his protectors arms for safety and in a desperate attempt to express how much he needs him. He's so scared of them.*

Warden: I LOVE YOU! PLEASE DON’T GO!

Once-ler: *His breath chokes in his throat. It's as if everything’s suddenly gone silent, like time has stopped. For a moment he really thinks he’s in a dream, some twisted thing that is part nightmare and part everything he’s wanted to hear. But it’s not. The Warden said it, and he said it during the most devastating and horrible situation possible. He said it because he's frightened and confused and desperate, desperate for Oncie, the only thing that he recognises and trusts and loves, to save him from the white-coat monsters coming to hurt him again. His heart skips a beat in that moment of the world pausing, and then suddenly races forward as he comes back to reality. Emotions soar through him, grief and love, guilt and gratitude, horror and hope, and he wells up with large flooding tears as he clutches his soulmate so tightly in his arms that they’d have to kill the Once-ler to pry the Warden from him. Out of his cold, dead, greedy fingers, like all of his riches, except this man is infinitely more valuable to him than any dollar bill or any shining jewel.* I love you too! *He gasps* I love you so much, Edmund! I’m not going, I’m never going! I’m staying right here with you forever and I’m going to fix this, I swear! *He suddenly looks over his shoulder and snaps at the nurses like a feral animal.* GET ME HIS GLASSES! Don’t you dare even think about denying me!! *He’s never sounded so furious and threatening before, but he could make their lives a living misery if he wanted to, and if they do not obey him right now then he will certainly rain hellfire upon them all.*

*The nurses gaze at him wide-eyed - at the whole situation, really- and then scatter like frightened gazelle. The Warden will be getting his damn glasses back. There is no question about that.*

Warden: *Has his eyes tightly shut, not at all scared of the way Oncie is shouting. But he's still overwhelmed by this whole situation and has no energy or lucidity left in him, so he clamps up and burrows himself as close as he can into that hug. His emotions are still dulled by everything, but hearing Oncie talking to him - saying that he loves him and is going to take care of him and that he's never going anywhere - is affecting him so deep down that he starts crying even when he doesn't directly feel the emotions he's supposed to. He doesn't wail or sob, he just wells up and the tears stream freely. The emotions are so deeply there that even when he can't think about what it means, or even consciously feel them, his body reels under the effects of it all. He knows what he’s meant to do here, what his body wants, and what his heart needs to express, even in all the brainfog. He sniffs heavily, and a small pant of crying does make itself heard. It's a single bleat, a shudder of his shoulders, and it's all his damaged mind has left to give. He loves him, that’s all he knows to be real when he has nothing left, that’s what the thing that makes sense and knows to stay, and he’s so relieved Oncie is here.*

Once-ler: *Strokes his hand through the Wardens hair and rocks him back and forth, his chin protectively hooked over his head as the tears stream down his face.* Okay- *Sniffs again and leans down to plant kisses on the Warden's head, talking into his ear and doing his best to deliver as much comfort and love to him as he can.* I love you too. *Kisses him again and repeating the words as a mantra.* Everything's going to be okay, everything's going to be oka- ay.

Warden: *Nods pathetically into his front, trying to believe him that things will be okay, because the only hope he can hold onto now is that he trusts Oncie. His facial expression is blank, even though so much stuff is churning up inside of him. Oncie smells so familiar this close, and that particular sense is a vivid experience in his current state. Fresh grass, butterfly milk, sweet flowers, the forest- with a hint of smoke and copper from his factory, and a faint smell of the signature cologne he wears for business. It’s the most perfect scent in the world because its his, and it’s a lifeline for his muddled synapses to cling onto. He never wants to be let go from from this.*

*The nurses scurry back down the corridor for the glasses, they didn't even ask permission to take them from the front office - they just want to swipe them so that they can hand them back to the frightening man - but run straight into the doctor who brought the Once-ler here. He frowns and shakes his head - no. They're not giving an unknown and dangerously unstable man anything that can be broken into shards. It's policy. One brow raises up from behind his thick glasses, reminding them that this is their job, and they're not just here to placate the guy making the loudest demands in the room.*

*Besides, he thinks. They're just glasses.*

*The nurses twitter amongst themselves, because nobody wants to go back in there and tell him. As they twitter, one sneaks past and dashes for the front office because maybe if she can smuggle them in, the Once-ler won't fire her at least.*

*She gets to the front desk, reaches for the glasses stacked on top of the filing cabinet, but is then stopped by a wiry hand with sharp nails. Jumping a mile, she looks up into the eyes of a very severe-looking woman with horn-rimmed glasses, a grey beehive hairstyle, and a long, pristine white coat.*

Female Doctor: What do you think you're doing?

Nurse: Th-there's a very upset patient who needs them, Dr. Zazzerzump! And... *she hushes her voice* Mr. Once-ler demanded we get them!

Doctor Zazzerzump: Mr. Once-ler 'demanded', did he? *Her birdlike face hardens like thunder.* Is Mr. Once-ler the Medical Chief of this hospital?

Nurse: N-no Doctor. But none of us want to be the ones to go in and tell him-

Doctor Zazzerzump: Oh, for goodness' sake. *She storms past the nurse with clipped, high-heeled strides and heads straight for the secure wing.* And Dr. Snickberry-Shoo? What did he say about all this?

*She walks straight past Dr. Snickberry-Shoo as he continues to berate the nurses for trying to get past him. But when he sees his superior come striding past, he takes a step back away from her.*

*This might be the Once-ler’s city, but this is her hospital, and he can’t just waltz in and take a patient from one of their cells like the man belongs to him. His name is on their paperwork now, he’s in their branded straightjackets, he’s in one of their cell rooms, and he has a long, tiring schedule of tests, medication and treatments already being prescribed and planned that’ll last him years until he’ll be allowed to be released. Once he’s proved to be mentally unfit for the outside world, he’ll be institutionalised here, and then he’ll belong to her and to the system.*

*Although relief floods through The Once-ler to finally have his beloved safe in his arms again, this isn’t the end of the road like he hopes. He doesn’t realise the approaching battle coming on the horizon. He doesn't realise what a terrible ending they might be met with if he doesn’t win it. He doesn’t realise, that in a cruel twist of irony, the Warden might finally become the Prisoner.*

To be continued...

#the-once-ler-in-superjail #superjail #the once-ler #the warden #wardler #the lorax #thneedville #wardenler #comic #chapter 35 #part1 #the asylum #tw mental illness #wiggybe #wiggy #self-made-madman #self made madman #ilpentamerone

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lexosaurus · 2 years

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Ok I'm making this its own post because I don't want it to clog up the intended lighthearted post I made yesterday.

But as my friends in the phandom and I have now entered our mid/late 20's and early 30's, and are now entering serious, long term relationships, the conversation of "do we tell our partners we like Danny Phantom/make content for Danny Phantom?" are turning into rather serious and interesting discussions. And from talking to people, it's interesting to see the mix of responses.

Some people I've talked to, especially people who date other creatives, have seemingly no problem opening up about their DP hobby with their partner. Others, myself included, are much more protective of their hobby.

But one trend I've found really interesting, and again this is ENTIRELY anecdotal, is that of the people I've talked to, it seems to be that the writers of the phandom, especially those who have written angst/dissection fics, are especially hesitant to tell their partners that they 1. like Danny Phantom and are into phandom stuff, and 2. that they write fanfiction. On the other hand—again, this is anecdotal—the artists of the phandom that I've spoken to tend to lean more on the side of "yeah my partner knows I draw DP fan art idgaf."

THIS IS JUST MY PERSONAL OPINION, but as a writer who is in a serious adult relationship who also has written some horrific angst and is dating a Straight Dude™️ who when I jokingly said "there was only one bed" looked at me like I had grown two heads, I think that the hesitancy comes from really a place of fear that if your partner ever found your fanfiction, they would think you are deeply mentally disturbed and need therapy.

Because, especially for those who do not write or read, a lot of people don't really associate grimdark or angst or whump or whatever the fuck terminology it is, with purely creative entertainment. They can watch a show like Game of Thrones and see people get tortured, raped, and gutted on screen and not think the writers or directors of that show are weird because it's a TV show, it's just entertainment for the public. But when someone does the same thing but posts it online for free under fanfiction—aka is not making money off of it and is showcasing their personal hobby—then people tend to worry about that writer's mental health because why else would they want to write this dark shit if they weren't mentally ill? It couldn't POSSIBLY be for the same reason I like watching GOT, there MUST be something wrong with them.

So when a dp writer has to explain why they personally enjoy Danny Phantom, it can be really hard to admit because those fears sort of swirl around your brain. Whereas for visual media, admitting you like drawing glowy ghost art for an old cartoon appears to be a bit easier.

Again, this is just my personal anecdotal observation there will always be exceptions to this I am NOT speaking on behalf of everyone thank you 🙏

Also I'm really curious from both writers and artists in the phandom to hear your experiences with this and whether or not you've told partners that you do fan art/write fanfiction for DP.

#danny phantom #phandom #im not intending to do any writers vs artists here #we both love and support each other at the end of the day #this is just my personal observation #my boyfriend knows i write but does not know what i write #im not that great at lying #i get too nervous #but when invisobang season is wrapping up i have to explain why im blowing him off to isolate in my room typing away for hours #ALSO REALLY CURIOUS TO SEE GEN Z VS MILLENIAL RESPONSES #Cuz I know that fanfiction is more accepted in Gen Z #Where when I was growing up if u admitted it in public it was instant social crucification

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gardeningintrests · 1 year

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humans are weird- mental health

now that i think about it, everyone and every living thing will have severe mental health issues upon being put in a bad situation or environment, like how dogs and cats will sometimes get anxious and yell and bite at you if you are a bad owner. and how some plants will be scared when you are a person who has done harm to it before.

so now I wonder, will aliens or other species and life tackle this mental health thing? or do they, like animals and plants, just think it's some form of instinct?

lets see how this goes baby

(also, my apologies for the weird English and maybe a switch between the UK and US ver of the language)

as the Terrans announce they have made a station at a dwarf planet near the Intergalactic Transportation Centre (ITC) that specializes in the form of psychology hospital for checkups and therapy sessions.

a few of the more advanced species in the Galactic Union were happy and most of the latter were confused.

psychology? hospital? what is this, do the Terrans think lowly of us so much that they had opened up a "mental hospital"?

upon seeing the rage of 99% of the Galactic Union ( Many species within systems, something like the EU on Earth) because of this newly opened hospital/ clinic/ office that made others feel they are unwell in the head, the Terrans called upon a press conference.

"We have heard of the unhappy feedback of the newly opened office. And I am sure all of you are aware that we humans are one of the sentient species that specializes in biology, especially the brain." The human, dressed in black with a white inner collar shirt paired with a black tie, a way of dressing different from their military, must be one of the Congressmen or a high authority figure.

"We opened this clinic/ hospital/ office because of various reasons. One is because as much more humans are traveling through the galaxies with the crew they are assigned or out on missions and events, we can safely say that more than 30% of our population, are in space, always on the go."

why do the human keep on talking useless speech? why do they not go straight to the point of this conference? such a waste of time.

"However, space travel isn't easy. it isn't quick either. so our kind has to sit through a very long transport, deal with their business, which takes roughly around a few months to a few years, and return back to home world where another long period of transport is needed."

do humans think they are the only ones with this problem? they might be new but they sure are demanding and self-centered aren't they?

"due to this fact, many become homesick and are dealing with chronic depression from the uncomfortable traveling and all the foreign work needed to do. with this and our conducted survey for both our kind and everyone else in the Galactic Union, we have deemed that unfortunately, many of our and your kind are in a very bad situation in terms of mental health "

the human sent everyone who is watching this channel or present a link to a video created by humans ( the link is in the word mental health)

what... what is this? mental health?

upon watching the video, X'aangrak't seemed to understand now. he now understands why humans were so awfully looking all the time.

"because of the risk of illness and the result that comes after we do not wish for our allies and our kind to fall into such a despairing place. we know we are not the only ones with the problem of homesickness, workplace bullying, abuse of power, and many other negative actions. generations, and generations, we and all of the life here have tried the resolve the issue of lives committing suicide acts just to come back to square 1"

the human wasn't wrong, lives are unique, and they are only able to form under the perfect circumstances in a system. so suicide cases is one of the major issues that the council of the Galatic Union has sought to fix

" so we come up with a plan, to not only help our kind but also all of the life that is existing in the Galaxy."

That's a bold move, how is a hospital full of drugs and equipment going to help us? if the issue the Galatic Union can't do anything to resolve this, how do they think they are going to do so?

" as us Terrans, although great at talking, is not so great in terms of communicating our thoughts and feelings. This is very well-known back at homeworld, so humans throughout history have studied how emotions and feelings affect a person and have made effective treatments and even categories of why a specific person is dysfunctional." oh really?

" so, for the sake of yourselves and your kind. the Galatic Union has come this far thanks to all of you. however it is undeniably true that space travel and work, is a heavy subjects that all of us carry inside, the pain sorrow, and tiredness you feel will eventually bring you down to the depths of despair and agony. so for your sake of yourself, give a visit to the new centre we opened, it is specialized in our feeling and emotion.'

...

" Be not afraid of letting your emotions go sometimes, as to be healthy is to cry, and soothe your own person, it is not a shameful act. but a powerful one That, is the end of my conference."

as the human steps down the stage and heads back to the vehicle transport, many reporters tried asking questions and begging for answers, but to no avail. no reply, just like how the humans in speeches and public has been

maybe... maybe i should give the centre a chance...

as X'aangrak't looks outside of his crew ship, with no one to talk to and always alone despite everyone on the ship. while the stars shone brightly outside in the galaxy, there has always been this feeling in his chest, maybe this time

he will feel better

#humans are strange #humans are awesome #humans are dumb #humans are weird #humans are crazy #human #humanity #mental health #therapy #boy do this alien got some attitute #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humans are insane #humans may be comforting #i guess we are like space cats too #huh who knew

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

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queenie-blackthorn · 8 months

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in honor of world mental health day heres my story below the cut :)

kinda hard to talk abt this cause its somewhat triggering and ik theres gonna be ppl who think im just an emo 15 y/o, but i swear im not tryna be dramatic. im tryna make peace with my past, and also show others that despite everything, you can make it.

also, im tryna show that healing isnt all sunshine and daises. theres the good, the bad, and the ugly. you can and will survive it all

tw: sewerslide attempt, abusive parents, self harm, violence ig ?

ive died two times in my life so far.

the first time, it was my parents who killed me. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am. i remember dragging across the hallway in my house, a throbbing sensation in my thigh, the mark already turning purple. i walked past my younger sisters' room, where my cousin was sleeping over with them, and i remember climbing into bed, hugging my pillow, crying against the pillow. that night, it was my innocence that died. my childhood happiness, per se. i remember swearing to myself in those final moments before darkness that id never forget that day. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am.

the time between my two deaths was filled with barely anything other than self loathing. i remember trying to set goals for myself, reasons to live. i tried out new hobbies. i was never able to meet those goals, and all the hobbies bored me.

i met some of the best people ever during that time. i also met some of the worst. i might sound dramatic, cause im young and impressionable, but the people i met during that time genuinely shaped who i am. i dont wanna act like im an old soul or anything, cause im sure that in a few years imma look back and think, "shit, i was really immature." but i matured faster than others my age. i found myself faster, found things i liked, found love, found out i hated being in love.

and then i died again.

this was a recent death. june 22, 2023. my mental health had been deteriorating for months prior – i still have scars on my arms.

it was a slower death compared to the last one. i started dying at around 4.00pm. it went on for an hour before the pain became unbearable and i confessed to my parents. i didnt want to go to the hospital, i was scared of what theyd do. i threw up seven times before giving in at about 8.00pm. they took me to the hospital. i was told told me i was lucky to be alive, that my liver was still functional. i didnt feel lucky. i felt like death wouldve been less painful. my head was spinning

i died in that hospital bed, at ~9.40pm, with my eyes wide open, my mom sitting near me. my thoughts at the time were along the lines of this:

im quite literally a child in the eyes of the world. ive done nothing. i have a psychology exam tomorrow. i have a book im halfway done writing, and a new story thats been brewing in my head for months. but if i die now, ill never get to finish any of that. ill never succeed. ill never be able to spit in the faces of the girls who bullied me, of the teachers who doubted me. why would i do this to myself? why would i rob myself of that chance?

so i died. but not the same way as last time. this time, it was the poisonous me that died, the me that whispered in my ear that my life would amount to nothing, that everyone else had it better, that you either succeed or you dont.

and when i died the second time, something happened that didnt happen the first time.

i was reborn.

at the time of me writing this, its been less than four months since my rebirth. in those four months:

i decided to change the world somehow. not necessarily by finding the cure to cancer or anything, id be satisfied if it was just a cute lil video i made going viral. as long as theres someone out there who i changed

i finished about six chapters of my book

i began writing the story that had been brewing in my head

i started lifting weights to make myself feel better abt how i looked

i got closer to god. stopped missing prayer

i moved schools, leaving behind both bullies and friends

i started focusing on my studies

i tried to fix my relationships with my parents and my siblings

dont get me wrong. none of these are completed. im still an extreme case of nobody-ness. i havent finished writing either of my stories. i still skip out on working out a lot i still only do the bare minimum in terms of religion. im still struggling to catch up in school to make up for my three years of burnout. my relationship with my family is still kinda weird

and i still feel like im dying sometimes. its not like i changed overnight and all those suicidal thoughts and feelings of drowning just disappeared when the sunrays came up. theres still a lot of issues in my life.

but i have faith in myself. in my ability to change the things that can be changed. in creating happiness where theres room for it to be made.

and if finding happiness a losing battle?

well, ill fight like its the fucking boudican revolt.

#mental health day #world mental health day #october 10 #tw sewerslide attempt #tw mentions of death #tw mentions of self harm #tw self destructive behavior #road to recovery

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siffrin-enthusiast · 1 month

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angry system and radqueer/“transdisabled” vent here, interactions okay except for radqueers. make your own post and keep it far away from real disabled people. tws for mentions of death, trauma, and hospitals.

this is not syscourse. this is my experience as a traumagenic system. this is not a commentary on anyone else except for radqueers.

i truly despise how sometimes DID is seen as a “quirky” or “fun” disorder where you get your favorite characters as imaginary friends. do you know why i split one of my silly fictional characters? for reasons i won’t disclose because i know basic internet safety, i almost died as a child. i came very, very close to dying. i was in the hospital for months and all i had to keep me from thinking that god, i nearly died was a fictional character. as much as i post about loving my system (which i really do! they saved me!) it is undoubtedly the worst thing that has ever happened to us. i would never wish this upon anyone. if i could be a singlet, if i could be whole, i would. everyone in this brain would make the same decision.

i make light of it because for the i’m going to be stuck here with living, breathing reminders of my worst traumas and if i don’t joke about it, i’m going to lose it. i only remember my early life through flashbacks. most days are a blur, weeks and months slipping by in a few blinks. i’m barely remembering to go to my college classes, and when i manage to get there (on time, too!), i don’t remember the lectures anyway. i might have to drop out until my therapist and i can figure out something to stop my body from thinking i’m going to be hurt again every time i walk into a classroom. i’m about to lose it.

i’m too tired for “syscourse”. i really am. but while we’re here, radqueer “build a headmate!!” things? you’re fucking sick. do you know that? you’re sick in the head. log off and go to a real mental health professional. “transDID” is sick. it wasn’t enough to fake it? you had to make a mockery of us, too? are you happy, loudly proclaiming that you’re roleplaying having a horrible mental illness? aren’t you ashamed? (i know they’re not. that would require them to care about anyone besides themselves.) there’s a reason none of the “transdisabled” people go to therapy, and it’s because they know they’d be rightfully diagnosed with factitious disorder. i sincerely hope you all find therapists who can provide you with what you actually need, because i promise it’s not roleplaying mental disorders on tumblr. in the meantime, i’m blocking and moving on. i’ve cried enough tears over my disorder and i know i’ll cry more of them. i’m not letting you add to my suffering.

DID/OSDD isn’t a joke or a game. it’s the result of repeated, continuous childhood trauma that the brain has no choice but to break itself in pieces to hide the trauma from itself. it ruined my life. it still ruins my life. it’s taken years in therapy to get to the point of knowing why i’m so dysfunctional, and it’ll take many years more to start becoming more functional. i make light of it here because this is my escape, for a moment, where i can be a normal, happy person instead of a traumatized shell of an adult who is really still the scared kid that wasn’t supposed to make it this long. i don’t have “friends” in my head. i have fragments of my psyche clinging to whatever takes me away from the flashbacks. do you understand?

#radqueers dni #i will not respond. i will just block and move on #not syscourse #sharing MY experience as a system this isn’t about anyone else #actually plural #actually did #tw vent #vent post #kuiper system posting

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thoughtsandbones · 7 months

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Doth thy demons dwelleth in the darkness too, my belov'd Reaper?

🚨WARNINGS: Mention of mental health illness mention, profanity, scars, fluff, anxiety, medical inaccuracies, blood, gore and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

I do not consent to any AI or anyone taking my work!

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

Word count: 6043K

Song inspo: Summer High - AP Dhillon, Don't Fear the Reaper - Blue Oyster Club, Sinner - The Last Dinner Party, The Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Legend soundtrack.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

MASTERLIST

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15 I, PART 15 II and PART 16

Part 17

The tiny specs of dust floated amongst the surrounding atmosphere, highlighted in the beams of sunlight that penetrated your room. A few settled down on the frame still clutched in your hand, the gold frame sparkled from the light as you tilted it, staring deeper into the image of Simon. That mole on his jugular kept drawing you in, beneath the skin, the vein you thought for the past 13 years had been burnt to ash was actually flowing steadily. The deep crimson blood slithers from his brain back to his heart after all.

Could it honestly be that Ghost is Simon Riley... or Simon is Ghost... One in the same. You thought to yourself, you get up lay down on your bed, the framed photo at the tip of your round nose.

Time stood still for what felt like hours.

It would make total sense, he knew your old name. You recall the day you first met, when he said that name. The inscription of the former shell you shed. That person who you haven't been able to come to terms with. Unable to reclaim the innocence of not knowing the cruelty of mankind. The lust for war over land, oil, weapons or whatever it is people fight for nowadays...Unwilling to let go that guard you have down.

That mole drew you in again, displayed on the only available photo you have of him.

Did everyone else know...? Surely. Perhaps not... A supposed dead man displayed by a skull face was filled with irony. You couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Simon's smug face startling new and old people with this faux relic of his former self.

Checking your watch, you realise you spent perhaps too long wondering about the past. No time like the present to find out the answers to the questions that flushed through your synapses.

Gathering your selected files and papers, placing the gold frame on top, you put the lid back on the box and slide it back to its former spot. Placing the chosen contents in a spare tote bag, swinging it over your shoulder.

Glancing around your room you look at the knick knacks laying in their places. Collecting dust and time. The gemstones you once fiddled with when looking out the window laid dormant.

Heading back down, you meet Clarissa back in her car. Once back in the passenger seat, you feel a lightness overcome you.

If Ghost really is Simon Riley, then it means he had his own reasons to hide. After what brief knowledge you of have of his supposed death, a part of you understood. Yet there was a slight annoyance growing inside of you.

Clarissa noticed you pursing your lips and frowning as you lulled your head side to side with the smooth motion of the car. After contemplating whether or not to tell you about her encounter with Gaz, the cute sleauthe, to fill the quietness.

But she was reminded of your sudden snore coming from your mouth that you were a surgeon who dealt with an extremely serious injury, and then be ridiculed by the moronic Dr Jones.

As Clarissa drove up to the gate of base she called in a favour from a new friend, Kyle Garrick, to help with getting permission to drive up to the rear of building 2 so you could get back with ease to your quarters.

Clarissa was guided back to the emergency back entrance of Building 2, you woke suddenly with the familiar sound of a large tank thundering by. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus them to know your exact location.

"Go get some sleep" Clarissa said as she gazed at you as your rubbed your temple.

"Been a long day" You scoff slightly and then yawn again.

"I'm gonna talk to your Captain about Jones and get something done" Clarissa said

You had heard what she said and nodded, unable to move your jaw to let the words escape.

Exiting the car you to wave Clarissa goodbye and then make your way back up to your room. As your reach your dear you look down the corridor and see the rough outline of Ghost's door...

Taking a deep breath you open your door, the tote bag carrying the gold frame and your documents swung as you strolled into your room. Closing the door behind you, placing the tote bag on one of the hooks and then stripping off your scrubs and crawl back into bed. Gathering the strewn duvet cover from when your were first paged nearly 2 hours ago.

As you cocooned yourself your mind went back to Ghost - or Simon Riley. How 3 hours ago he was shrouded in mystery. But now... You have an idea of who he really could be...

I hope it is you Simon you plead quietly within the emptiness of your room. Your aching bones and flesh beg into sink into the mattress, sleep came quickly this evening as the heaviness of your strung out body shut down.

...

Simon took another deep inhale, his tongue became even more drier as it touched the roof of his dry mouth. Trying to moisten his mouth with saliva, he swallowed the little that came out down. He looked up and realised he had fallen asleep in the shower. The white light of the bathroom pierced his still tired eyes. Simon adjusted his body and sat up straighter, his back bracing the cold white tiles.

With his left hand he touched the now dry bandage and sighed with relief. As he got up, the wound pulsated with pain across his abdomen. Finally, he was feeling the full physical effects of the mission. Simon examined his pale naked body in the mid sized mirror.

Bruises began to appear, especially on his stomach and right shoulder. He could make out the thick red imprint of his gun strap. Brushing his fingers across his shoulder, he felt grains of sand roll against his skin. Simon resorted into having to wash himself with a damp towel and small splashes of water. All in order to avoid the bandage and the wound you stitched together from getting wet.

After feeling far more fresher, Simon wore his comfiest black joggers and socks that had a little German shepherds embroidered on the cuff. Slowly he put on a black vest and then a grey zip up hoodie, but leaving it unzipped. He laid down on his bed and took in the calm silence.

The ringing in his ears came back suddenly; tinnitus. An ever so common issue for soldiers, especially given close contact with flash grenades. Simon tried to forget the images of a bloodied Soap out of his mind, but they, along with the many demons, echoed within his mind.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rapid knock on the door, Simon knew all too well that it was Price. Gently getting up he reached for a clean skull balaclava and put it on and sliding on his trainers.

Ghost opened the door and saw Price, also showered and refreshed, not with his signature boonie.

"Alrigh' Price?" he mumbled, as he leaned against his doorframe.

"Not bad, Soap is awake" Price said, giving a slight grin, which grew as he noticed Ghost's eyes widen.

"How is he?" Ghost says grabbing his keys and moving out of his room, zipping his hoodie as Price moved out the way.

"Alive and well. You can see him, Gaz is there right now" Price said as he watched Ghost lock his door and then turned to face him.

"Let's go"

"Have a good rest?" Price asked

"Somewhat" Ghost gruffed "Can Johnny walk?" He asked

Price chuckled and gave Ghost a light pat on his shoulder

"More than that, he's dishin' out gossip to anyone who would listen" Price huffed

"Really?" Ghost said confused. Hours ago Soap was near the edge of death, and now he is gossipping.

"You have to see it for yourself" Price said

Both Price and Ghost made their way to the ICU where Soap was recovering. And recovering well Ghost assumed as he heard the sergeants laugh fill his body with ease; finally safe and alive.

Ghost approached the edge of the bed, Soap and Gaz finished their conversation before turning their attention to him. Gaz gave him a brief nod.

"Lt! You finally came!" Soap exclaimed his arms reached out, both which had ECG cables coming out him. Ghost saw the biggest grin he had ever seen coming from Soap's bruised and grazed face.

"Johnny.." Ghost mumbled

"Can yer believe that I am alive?!" Soap said, spitting out a laugh, lightly clapping his hands together "For sure thought I was dead" Soap laughed again finally resting his arms from excessive movement on his stomach.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at Soap and crossed his arms. He was acting like he had just had a small tumble and not got shot in the back.

"How's the legs?" Ghost mumbled moving closer over to Soap.

Soap gripped the blue hospital blanket, pulling it up slightly and revealing his wiggling toes. Ghost felt another wave of relief ripple through him.

"Alright Soap, put your stinkers away" Gaz said poking at Soap's feet with his charts that he was looking through earlier.

"Pfft, wanna gimme a sponge bath Gaz?" Soap grinned at Gaz who looked back him disgustingly at the thought.

"Come off it Johnny" Ghost said shaking his head at Soap.

"I was only jokin' Lt!" Soap chuckled

Ghost took in Soap's face and the shared moment of relief and serenity with Price and Gaz. The team was safe, wounded and shocked in places but back in familiar territory.

Gaz sat back down and continued to chat about who would give Soap a sponge bath, asking Price how much or what would it take... Price huffed and said something along the lines of not even if my right leg was blown off.

The conversations between the three faded as Ghost grabbed a chair and sat down, observing his comrades.

"Hey Lt, you hear about Doc?" Soap said, turning his attention to him

"Eh?" Ghost grunted looking up at Johnny with narrowed eyes

"Well, I was laying here, recovering, just woke up from the coma" He starts

'Wasn't a coma mate" Gaz said, Soap ignored him

"I hear a conversation slowly drift into my ears as I lay here recoverin'" Soap continued

"Ah he's telling the long version" Gaz interrupted and quickly went silent as Soap shot him an evil look.

"That Jones fella apparently paged Doc 999 - ICU.. Bless her soul, she must've thought I was dyin' again" Soap said sympathetically towards Ghost, whose eyes were still narrowed at him.

"Runs down here, and Doc notices my intubattery is out"

"Intubation tube" Gaz corrected stifling a laugh with his hand.

"Spit out the short version Johnny, I ain't got all day listenin' to fairy tales" He said sighing

"Pfft thought yer'd be nicer to be me since I am recoverin'" Soap spitted, point to his back.

"Basically, Jones paged Hari on the basis of doing an unauthorised surgery and said to show him her qualifications" Gaz summarised

"Oi, I was tellin' a story here!" Soap shouted, and flung a piece of apple at Gaz from his tray.

"Cut it out Soap" Price said and Soap promptly had a guilty look on his face.

"Wait, what?" Ghost said, straightening up in the chair

"Jones think she committed medical fraud" Price said

"But she saved 'im" Ghost said, throwing his hand out to Johnny

"Aye she did, oh forgot to mention the part Jones said she went psychotic at Foxham"

"Soap.." Price said sternly

"I didn't say anthin'" Soap exclaimed

"You say a lot shit Johnny" Ghost said "What you mean psychotic?" He added

"She apparently had a mental-" Soap started

"Alright, that's enough" Price stepped in "It's all been sorted" he added

"Is she leavin'?" Ghost asked, worry began to tremble through him.

What if you left before he could tell you who he was?

"No, she's staying." Price said

"Good" Ghost said aloud, then realised he said that aloud.

"Takin' a likin' to her ey Lt?" Soap said, giving him a mischievous grin.

Ghost looked away from Soap, he could feel his cheeks and neck getting hot.

"Not the only one" Gaz said, leaning back in his chair looking at Ghost and Soap with a grin. Both looked at eachother.

"I said she was pretty, I'm not in love with her" Soap shouted back at Gaz

As Gaz continued to tease Soap, Ghost got up and put the chair back

"You going?" Price asked

"Yeah" Ghost said moving closer to Price "Might see Doc, see if she's alrigh'?" He added

"She's knocked out at the moment, give her a till tomorrow" Price said and Ghost nodded.

"You goin-" Price started

"Give me 5 days." Ghost said looking straight at Price, who nodded and smiled, he gave him a light pat on the shoulder and let him go.

During the walk back to his room, Ghost made a promise to himself, to you.. 5 days, Ghost checked his watched, it was the 8th of October, 5 days would make it October 13th... He soon realised what day that was; the day The Captain died.

...

Finally after a good sleep, you were feeling slightly better. Yet the inner itch of anxiety trickled down your nerves anytime you heard the words Jones said to you...

"Heard you went psychotic whilst on shift."

Everytime that sentenced pierced your grey matter, your body shuddered, an attempt to rid the thought.

The hot droplets of water scattered across your naked body, taking your bamboo loofah, scrubbing your apple soap, creating a nice lather. You watch the bubbles accumulate as you scrub clean the sweat, the gunk trapped in crevices and bringing new life to the skin.

The fresh apple scent uplifted you, in combination with the hot shower, you felt like you could melt away...

But the oncoming thoughts of the revelation made the previous day flooded your thoughts.

Why would he take so damn long? You thought as you scrubbed over your knee and then down your calf.

But in your mind, you reasoned with yourself.. If you had been betrayed and then supposedly burnt alive you would keep that a secret. Anonymity was literally his name. Ghost

There... But not there really.

Getting out the shower, the cold morning breeze drifted into the bathroom, hitting your fresh skin.

After getting ready you made your way to the mess hall. As you locked the door, you gazed down the corridor to Ghost's room. Checking your watch it was 9:36 am, he would most likely be doing paperwork or something...

Heading down to the mess hall, it was there in the near empty hall you saw Ghost sitting alone on a lunch bench, a cup in front of him. As you both locked eyes, your mouth instantly curved into the biggest grin as you stared at the man hiding beneath the mask.

Your mischievous big grin made Ghost wary of you suddenly as he saw you walk in the mess hall, grabbing breakfast.

Something is up he thought to himself

Watching as you grabbed some breakfast, he kept his eyes on you until you sat right in front of him.

"Morning Lieutenant" You said, trying to not say Simon... Another grin appears.

"Mornin' Doc" He said, puzzled still by your big grin.

He watched as you slowly tilted your head to the side, strands your long brown hair falling too, as if you were analysing his inner workings. Trying to figure him out

"Is it your turn now doin' the starin'?" Ghost huffed, folding his arms

"Hmm perhaps" You replied

Ghost grumbled and looked down at his near empty tea in his mug.

"How's your injury?" You added as he remained silent, now it was his turn to stare at you.

"Fine. Better" He said.

"Good" You said, sucking in some air. You could feel some tension rising between you.

"Heard about Jones" He said, breaking the silence

You look at him, shocked at the bluntness.

"How did you-" You started

"Soap" Ghost said

"Soap?" You questioned "He's awake?!" You exclaimed

"Yeah, he's all good, you did a great job" He said, his eyes softened as he met your curious brown eyes.

"Good..." You say, taking a sip of coffee "What did he say about Jones?"

"Something happened at your old hospital" Ghost said, studying your face for any reaction.

"Yes..." You whispered, dreading the conversation that will follow.

Ghost took a deep breathe in.

"Tomorrow, we need to resume trainin'. Assume you've been doin' some since we've been away" He said changing the subject.

Shocked that he wasn't going to question you, you smiled briefly at him.

"Yeah, definitely, and yes, been training with the martial arts team on base too" You replied

"We shall see how well you can spar tomorrow" Ghost said.

He picked up his mug and said his goodbyes. He knew not to pressure you into giving him information he desperately wanted to know.

Within your own darkness, you seem to be hidin' your own demons too Ghost thought as he walked out.

...

It had only been a 3 days since Ghost, aka Simon Riley, had his deep wound stitched up, and yet he was persistent on picking back up the training, especially hand to hand combat training.

It was no surprise, the Simon you remember was proficient in unarmed combat. Now added with his Ghost persona, daunting others in his stride.

Each time you greeted each other in front of the training room he booked out, you'd ask him how he was.

"Alrigh'" He gruffed

That was his usual response. You didn't want to annoy him any further so you bit your tongue.

Finally, on the fourth day of training, you pinched a nerve with Ghost when you kept repeatedly asking if he was okay and if his wound be able to handle a beating or two.

"So far, I've overthrown you... 7 out of 8 times past three days" He snapped at you, blue eyes narrowed at you.

"Pretty sure it's 6" You replied bluntly as you recall the time you were jumping repeatedly to try and pull him over.

"7" Ghost retorted crossing his arms and stepping closer to you

"You are twice the mass of any normal combatant" You say rolling your eyes edging over to the mat.

"Well if you could knock me over, then it'd be easier knocking normal people" Ghost said following you onto the mat, and got into his ready position as you did the same.

He watched as your face changed, the fire suddenly lit behind the eyes as you narrowed your eyebrows. Waiting for your move, because he knew you would lunge first with a kick. And you did, he used his right arm to swat it away as if the oncoming kick was a fly. He took in satisfaction from your frustration at his easy block.

"Too predictable" Ghost muttered as he circled you slowly.

Taking a deep inhale you let out a deep sigh

"I don't have the upper body strength to take you down" You hurled back at him

"Just try it" He calmly said

Pulling your arms closer to your chest and face, jolting forward and giving a right punch. Ghost dodges.

Ghost decides to up the game and throws a punch, you duck and attempt to trip him with your legs again. He sighs and raises his leg in an attempt to kick you but you block with your right arm and side of the body, with your left arm you grab his thigh but Ghost quickly uses his upper arm to push you back - you stumble with the amount of force he put with such ease.

"Good attempt" He groaned as he stretched his neck and arms. where the muscles laid too defined under his scarred pale skin.

Meanwhile you were panting for air like anything. Walking off the mats you grab your flask and take a quick swig from it. The water replenishes the dryness of your mouth.

"Ready for another round?" Ghost asks, and you swear you heard a glimmer of laughter

Turning around placing the flask down in its own spot, wiping away droplets of water from the edge of your mouth, walking back up to the mats and face Ghost, getting back in your stance.

Lunging first again, you manage to hit Ghost and block one of his oncoming punches. Using his thigh as a stool, you jump up and twist round to his back and wrap your legs around his shoulders hooking your feet against his lower back, trying to use your core to tip him over, but you just ended spinning yourself to his front, feeling you slip, Ghost instinctively grabbed hold of your waist, keeping you from falling and snapping your neck.

"Ain't ya gonna listen to me and not use your legs?" He said gruffly

A small groan come out from your mouth.

His calloused fingers of his right hand grazed the brown skin beyond the edge of the joggers you wore. His grip around your hips tightened as he felt you relaxing your upper body, yet the grip with your legs over his shoulders remained.

He heard you panting slightly as you hung below him. Your tank top rose, unveiling more of the warm smooth brown skin. Like magnets, his eyes took in the vulnerability of your position as you hung casually.

You're gonna pounce he thought, planting himself and engaging his core, his wound although padded and nearly healed (Ghost thought) throbbed dully.

Yet you lay still. Ghost peered down at you again, his eyes laid on your breasts, between them he quickly looked at your chin and then the edge of your round nose. For a moment, he let himself glance at your breasts and then trailed up from your ribs to the protruding skin, a bronze glow as a beam of light bathed that region... Within his chest a ripple formed that gave him ease. His eyes wandered back up to the legs wrapped around his shoulders.

Taking your vulnerability to his advantage; Ghost grabs you right arm with his left and pulls you up and then over him. He heard you yell in disbelief as you were flung over him.

His right hand was no longer securely on your waist but now grasping your right inner thigh, making you lose grip over his shoulder.

Falling on your back you groaned with growing agitation as he threw you down.

"Was that necessary?" You groaned

"I ain't a damn tree" He snapped back, surveying you as you sat crossed legged down on the mat. The black tank top was perfectly fitted, showing your toned arms as you leant back. Ghost looked away and turned his back slightly

"Built like one" You muttered to yourself quietly and get back up up, rubbing your sore back and shoulder.

"Look, come here" Ghost said, rubbing his the skin underneath his mask, then motioned with his hand.

You came closer, and he took hold of your right arm gently.

"Form a fist" He said still holding your arm as you tightened the muscles lying beneath the skin.

"Good" Ghost said, and you looked up at into eyes blue eyes. Simon's blue eyes. As your eyes meet you feel a sharp zing bolt across you, quickly glancing back down to your fist, the feeling spread down to where he held your arm.

"Now, hit me with your upper arm-" He began and proceeded to move that part closer to your body "close like this" he added, and look down at you, meeting your eyes once again.

"'Kay" You sighed, engaging your core.

"Use your arms this time" Ghost repeated and gave a nod for you to go ahead.

You aim for Ghost's chest, he dodges, you attempt again to hit him with your left hand and you hit his chiseled torso.

"Good" he said "Block and defen' now" he added, and he lunged forward suddenly, delivering quick and sharp punches.

You block two, and then grab his right arm, and attempt to hurl him over, but due to his large size he remained where stood.

Thrusting your backside into him to try and get a bit of momentum, but he stood still.

Ghost felt slightly awkward as you kept getting close to his front, he felt your back, especially your bum, hitting his cock. He took a step back and turned his waist to the side, yet you followed his move in attempt to try and bring him down. With his left hand, he wrapped around your waist and lifted you up over his head.

"Not again!" You yelled as Ghost you mid air. He chuckled slightly as he brought you down but you swung your left leg around the back of his waist to try and swivel yourself out of his hold.

"Stop!" He yelled as he lost his balance and you let go of his waist with your leg, but still held onto his right arm. The sudden change in weight and momentum made Ghost fall right on top of you. Your face slammed into the mat, and lips making contact with the grit on the mat, saliva sputtered out as you groaned with annoyance and tiredness.

Ghost lifted himself off of you, he noticed your bare shoulders, as your tank top had a strap in the middle, exposing the tattoo he saw briefly one time on your left shoulder.

As you panted on the mat, Ghost stood on one knee over you and examined the different four flowers coming out of what looked like a skull. He gazed at the black monochromatic skull; an odd reflection of the skull he wore over his own.

He moved back and up, watching as your back muscles flexing as you pushed yourself up from the mat.

"Last round?" You say, wiping your hands together to get rid of the grit from the mats.

"Until you knock me over then it'll be the last roun'" He said, standing in the centre of the mat. Stretching his arms over his head and gazing back at you.

You meet his blue eyes again. Part of you so badly wanted to run up, jump and take his mask off and be huzzah! But that would be a total invasion of personal space and you figured he'd just toss you back to the ground as soon as you made any move.

Best bet is to keep on the defensive mode... Wait for him to strike

After about a minute of circling one another, Ghost struck first, punches that struck you on the side, yet you began to dodge them, delivering punches in return.

"Finally" Ghost said aloud, as he looked at your delivery of punches, few which he blocked and few a he took. He looked deep into your brown eyes, full of focus and determination.

Throwing more punches, blocking and then attacking.

"Good" Ghost said again and he swung out his right leg, doing a high kick and you block it and try to toss him over. It didn't work. Instead you let go his leg, and he swiveled trying to kick you again, you blocked and then remembered a move... A sudden rush of adrenaline charged through your blood.

With his back turned, it was then with your right leg that as you quickly crouched, hooking it around Ghost's left leg causing him to stumble, allowing you the edge to push his back with your left hand.

As Ghost fell forward he felt your hand grip his right ankle flipping him over like a pancake onto his back. Before he could fight back, you lunged on top of him, pinning his left arm with your right leg and your right hand near his throat. Your left knee was placed just on his hip, just the right amount of pressure to prevent him from getting up.

It was one of his signature moves. The surprise attack he would often use from behind.

How could you.. But then he remembered... Simon...

Him

You learnt it from him.

You kept him pinned down in the same position, forcing your entire weight on the points you held him down by. Boring your eyes into his. You could see the remaining black painting creased as he squinted his eyes at you.

"Gonna get off me?" He growled, hoping that would intimidate you.

Yet you persisted. Keeping the same stern look you stared at him. Tightening the grip you had on his right arm.

Annoyance began to grow in Ghost. But then he figured if you knew, then this was the consequences of his own making.

Your fingers were splayed against his throat covered by his skull balaclava. There was a terrible temptation to how badly you wanted to slide your fingers underneath, revealing the mole on his skin that covered his jugular.

What colour was it?

Smooth and circular or rough like potato. What shape is the mole?

As you thought of the mole, your grip began to tighten slightly on Ghost's throat.

Ghost felt his anxiety building inside as she tightened her grip on his throat.

How could I be so fuckin' stupid Ghost thought to himself, he pushed himself up but you were exerting all your strength into keeping him where he is.

"Do you know?" he croaked

"I know a lot of things, to which are you referring to?" You retorted

"Hmm" Ghost groaned, he shifted again under you, yet you remained.

"The day we first met.." You started, thinking carefully of the way you were wording your thoughts. Ghost eyes widened, becoming more attentive.

"Go on.." He said

"You said my old name, how did you know?" You asked, eyes narrowing at Ghost, hoping to catch him

"Looked through a file" Ghost lied quickly. Unable to bring himself to tell the truth.

You smirked, eyes narrowing further.

"Nah, pretty sure the Captain redacted my name"

Ghost drew all of his strength, he managed to get his right leg up and with his knee shifted his weight so that you stumbled off of him as he turned over.

"What you gettin' at?" He said getting up off the mat, lending out his right hand to help you up. You take it, and Ghost helps pull you up.

You know.. Ghost thought to himself as he watched you study his face

"I think I know who you are.." You whispered

Ghost felt a cold tinge begin within him, he crossed his arms over his chest, partly to stop his shaking hands being in view.

"Who am I?" He asked, stepping a bit closer to you

You take a deep breath.

"Simon Riley"

At the moment, Ghost's entire body went cold. What felt like an electric shock bolted in his body.

He was lost for words.

"What makes you think that?" He asked

"You have a mole on your neck, and Simon also had a mole" You stated, wanting to be done with the mind games and for him to take his mask off.

"Had?" Simon asked "Must mean he's dead"

"Supposedly dead" You said slyly.

"How'd you know this Simon had a mole?" Ghost asked, fully relishing in the moment of teasing you. He could sense the gears working overtime in your brain.

"I have a photo" You snapped "And I'll show it to you" You said, walking off the mats.

You were tired of the running around the questions. Answers were needed. As you looked behind you, Ghost began to follow your footsteps as you lead the way.

...

Ghost followed you into your room and closed the door behind you.

You pulled out the gold from that had the photo of the five soldiers, staring at it one last time before handing it over to Ghost.

Looking down at the image in the frame, Ghost recognised the Captain, you and a younger version of himself.

There he was. Simon Riley, before the betrayal, before the chaos and when he had a family. When he had a life outside the military.

Ghost looked up at you, your face still had the same stern look, he could tell that you wished it was the same Simon under this mask, the same Simon that was in the framed photo.

Standing in front of Ghost, he was leant back against the wall. The foreboding skull face whose eyes still protruded glared at you. Every now and then those blue eyes blink, replenishing the moisture of his lense covered in black paint ridden skin.

"I thought you were bacon"

"Bacon?" Ghost said in surprise

You tilt your head up, and watch as Ghost - no Simon - cock his head to the side, taking in an inhale as he shifts his weight about.

"Fried to a crisp" You muttered

"That ain't bacon love" He retaliated

You mouth curved when he said love... A cold pleasant feeling rippled through you.

"Is it you?" You ask, voice-breaking slightly, you could feel your eyes beginning ot sting as tears formed.

Ghost sighed, he placed the golden frame upright onto the set of drawers near him. He reached with his slightly trembling fingers, grasping the edge of his mask and took it off.

Your heart skipped a bit, mouth opening wide as the person finally revealed was alive.

"Simon" You murmured, stepping closer to him. It wasn't the same Simon in the photo. His blonde hair was not so blonde, dirtier blond-brown, and was messy and long on the sides. His jaw was covered in stubble, and as you stepped closer your could see scars scattered over his face; one over his nose that ran near his left eye, another across his cheek. His eyes looked tired, but the black paint didn't help.

Taking in every detail, you scan his face. Your mouth curved as you savoured this precious moment. Unable to stop the tears and the tightness in your chest as you got close to him. Simon.

Simon watched as the tears that fell from your eyes finally trickled down your cheek, dropping down to the floor that held them both in this moment of silence. He reached out for your hand and pulled you closer to him.

He took in your sorrow, guilt riddled him like an aching virus. He brought his hands up, his fingers tracing the bronze skin that glowed in the candlelight, trailing his forefinger and thumb against your skin, taking in the softness. Simon sighed and bowed his head slightly, he looked up and saw more tears coming from your eyes, wiping them away with his thumb. The rough palms grasped the nape of your neck, lulling your head back as he weaved his fingers through your brown hair. Simon gazed back, and closed his eyes placing his forehead against yours, his cold sharp nose tip pressing into your round nose.

"Ru" He whispered finally, his eyes still closed, yet he felt your wet lashes flicker against his.

"Simon" You croaked, and sighed deeply into him, Simon felt you relax and pulled in close to him, wrapping his warm strong arms tighter around you. Taking in the comfort as you melted into him.

Each inhale brought in a mix of cinnamon, musk, cigarettes and sweat. A perfect elixir that soothed your melancholy.

"Didn't mean to take so long" Simon gruffed

"I knew something was up" You said, sniffling as you pulled away, wiping the tears away with your wrist. Looking up at Simon, who still held you close to him.

"I just needed time" Simon said, his forehead touched yours has he took another inhale, a weight finally lifted off him.

Reaching around his waist, you wrap your arms tight.

"You took your time, then I took the shot" You said chuckling slightly into him. His grip on you tightened and you could feel him laugh a little too.

As Simon held you in his embrace, thankful that you were not mad, he finally felt his inner demons quell within the darkness that had put a hold on him for far too long.

#modern warfare fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x doctor #simon ghost riley x medic #cod fanfic #fan fic ideas #angst #cod mw soap #cod price #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #modern warfare #modern warfare ghost #thoughtsandbones #thoughtsandboneswrites

26 notes · View notes

lover-of-skellies · 10 months

Note

how about lust sans lol

The smooch-ability rating for Lust is 11 out of 12! He's a safe bet for kissing, and you can read my reasoning if you want, but just be aware that I do briefly touch on some slightly suggestive subjects, since he is from Underlust :P

1) Is Lust's mouth dangerous? His teeth are flat, so no, I'd say his mouth is perfectly safe. There's nothing jagged or sharp about his teeth, and really the only thing you have to be worried about is some spontaneous tongue action, but that's not harmful, so he gets 2 points

2) Would he bite? Not in a dangerous, malicious sort of way. The only biting he'd do is the kinky kind, if you asked him nicely beforehand for that. Is he aggressive? In general, no, I don't think I see him being the aggressive type. He could be during other, much spicier activities (if you catch my drift), but for a smooch, I think he'd be able to control himself well enough, so there's 2 more points

3) Are there any health hazards to the smoocher? Could he somehow hurt them or make them sick? To both of those questions, I'd say no. He's not the sort to harbor any kind of ill intent, he just wants to enjoy himself as much as he can, just with things in general. There's no potentially nasty fluids leaking from his facial area anywhere, and he doesn't really carry a weapon or anything. He has magic, yes, but I don't think he'd use it unless absolutely necessary. That being said, I'll give him 2 points for safety

4) Does Lust have a sympathetic backstory? From what I remember of Underlust, there was a big baby deficiency underground and monsters weren't as fertile (for lack of a better word) as they were before, and when they found a potential solution to that, it sort of messed with everyone and made them all super hormonal and down to clown 24/7. I say that like it's a silly thing, but at the same time, when you think about it, that implies that they can't control how they are anymore. They have these urges they need to act on, or else they hurt or suffer in some way as a result. I remember reading some of the original Underlust comic stuff from nsfwshamecave a while back, and I remember Lust speaking with Grillby and having an emotional breakdown. He did have some drinks beforehand, sure, but everything that he said led me to believe that he's harboring a lot of depression and anxiety, and that he experiences this constant feeling of dread due to the resets and being the only one who knows about them. He isn't well in an emotional or mental sense, and I would absolutely tell him to consider therapy if that were possible. So in summary, he suffers from this weird permaheat thing and he'll be miserable if he doesn't sate it, and he's got a lot of mental and emotional issues and lots of pent up thoughts and feelings. All things consider, I'd give him 2 points for sympathy, seeing as how he can probably never go back to his normal self now

5) Does he deserve a smooch? He's constantly horny and he's at least somewhat of a pervert to some degree, but he hasn't done anything majorly bad, despite his trauma from the resets and the situation he's been stuck in. While there is a risk of some impromptu frenching or wandering hands if things got too heated and out of control, I'd say he still gets at least 1 point here

6) Is he cute or cool? His design makes him stand out from other Sanses, and he's likely stronger than one would expect, considering his appearance and what his hobbies probably consist of. He's still a genius, and he still has impeccable self control regardless of his circumstances. He's also very level headed and still has the ability to think clearly, plus he's sassy, and who doesn't like perfectly timed sass? He gets 2 points in this area for both coolness and cuteness

In total, Lust's smooch-ability rating is 11. He's a very safe bet, so if you have to kiss a Sans, this is one of your safer options. He could make the kiss the most passionate experience of your life and leave your head in the clouds, but if you'd like to peck his cheek or his forehead instead, I get the impression he wouldn't mind that, either. Odds are, any form of comfort or platonic care would go a long way with him

#anon #asks #lust sans #smoochability rating #slightly suggestive #tagging just in case

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sk1nn1-beanie · 1 month

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this is gonna sound really bad btw and feel free to ignore coz its just a rant

i dooont like my sister at all, like dont get me wrong if she needed a kidney i would give her mine, but i dont want anything to do with her at allll, she has done countless bad things which not all i will list since some a quite personal but here are a few:

faked having ana for 2 days then pretended to make a huge recovery within hours even though for them 2 days she ate in secret in our shared room whilst telling everyone she ''didnt eat at all''

comments on my body even though she is alot heavier than me

brags about how she has all these qualifications and successes in school to me and makes fun of how i had to leave in year7 due to health reasons and have no qualifications or gcses at all

fakes suislide, went to a bridge didnt even climb on the other side and called for help before even getting to the bridge, all because she didnt want to go to school that day (she admitted this to me and bragged how she is getting all this attention but if i tell mum she will deny it and i will be the bad person)

has to make everything a competition with me, i had a bad day? hers was worse, havent slept? she hasnt slept longer ect. whilst lying coz she sleeps normal every night and literally hasnt had a bad day in her life (exaggeration but you get what i mean)

every time i ask mum for help with my mental health or for therapy she is quick to butt in and take the attention away because she cannot handle anyone else being in the centre of attention for one second

steals my shit constantly

makes fun of anything i wear or how i do my hair or makeup, like she will take one look at me and do that ''trying not to laugh'' face then be like ''noooothinggg, you really going out like that though?''

will make me do everything in the house then take credit for it after she was the one who made all the mess

anytime i pick up a hobbie or i want to do a certain career she has to all of a sudden want to do it to, then make it a competition and she has to be better

(i could keep going but it would be too many things to list and some i physically cannot list on here)

its genuinly infuriating to be in the same room as her, and recently i have found myself insulting her and her body in my head (never out loud), i should feel bad for looking at her with disgust in my head but she has been so cruel to me in words and actions, so why not do it back in my head??

like i have started to use her as f4tsp0 since we are the same height and build so i can tell what i would look like at her weight, i even try on her clothes to see how differently they fit

so far the attention is allwayyys on her, so ill be sick enough that mum finally notices me, and maybe my sister will feel bad and be a real sister for once

(sorry for the rant that probably makes no sense but i wanted to let it out lol)

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stanheightsimp · 2 months

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I wrote this quickly to distract myself from my burnout. Sorry, it's badly written and sloppy, a bit. There will surely be corrections in the future, when my mental health is better !

Group Therapy | Adam Stanheight x /Leon Kennedy

Adam must take part in group therapy. He meets a survivor of Raccoon City. Since Amanda and Leon are both in DBD, I'm obsessed with the idea of a Saw and Resident Evil crossover (and also because Leon and Adam are comfort characters). | 2478 words

Adam Stanheight stepped hesitantly into the overheated room, nervously fidgeting with the excessively long sleeves of his flannel shirt. He didn't want to do this. Fuck, he hated this kind of thing. Group therapy. For people suffering from PTSD. Great.

It was his therapist who'd sent him there "an indispensable step in his healing process". Supposedly, Adam was too self-focused on his suffering. Supposedly, it would do him good to find other people who had it as bad as he did. Blah, blah, blah. Fucking idiot therapist. As if he could understand what Adam was going through. As if anyone could understand what it felt like to wake up in a tub of dirty, cold water, seeing a person saw off his foot, , get shot by this person, and be left to die for seven days in the dark, without food or water. Adam decided he'd do the bare minimum, even put all the ill will in the world into it, so they'd leave him alone, or even, oh fuck, that was what he wanted, kick him out of group therapy for being unbearable.

He sat down grudgingly on one of the folding chairs arranged in a circle in the center of the room, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, reluctant to cooperate. A few people were already there, people in his age bracket. At least, that was something. Adam didn't really like people from his parents' generation.

His gaze met that of a blond boy with hair like the lead singer of the Backstreet Boys (Adam hated the Backstreet Boys). Blue shirt open over a white T-shirt, sky-blue jeans, big clear eyes, and eyes rimmed as if he hadn't slept in days.

Leon Kennedy met Adam's gaze and wasn't sure whether he liked him or hated him. His old self of a few years ago would have liked him, probably. Leon liked people, trusted them without restraint. He believed in many things, was unfailingly optimistic, and managed to find beauty in everyone. Even when people were capable of the worst, he could find the best in them.

Well, that was then. Leon clung desperately to the ghost of the carefree, optimistic kid he'd been before Raccoon City.

"We have a new member," declared the group therapy organizer, and Adam rolled his eyes. "Adam, stand up, would you like to introduce yourself?"

No, fuck no, I don't want to introduce myself, I don't want to be there, I want to disappear.

Adam stood up with a sigh.

"My name's Adam. I'm twenty-five years old. And four months ago, I was a victim of Jigsaw. He locked me in the bathroom, and I almost died in there. And… that's it."

The assembly said a unanimous "hello Adam" which Adam felt was forced and hypocritical. Fuck, he hated group therapy. Everyone came not to support or listen to others, but to be supported and listened to by someone, to have someone sympathize. Basically, this kind of therapy was the most singularly selfish thing Adam had ever seen.

"Was there any particular reason he captured you?" asked a girl, older than Adam but not by much.

Are you fucking kidding me? You really think this asshole needs a reason? You're such an idiot! Adam tried to reply, but just shook his head.

"Actually, maybe there was a reason. I was suicidal, in a way."

"What do you mean, in a way? You either are or you aren't, there's no in-between." commented a teenager laconically.

"Shut the fuck up, I didn't fuckin' ask for your opinion." Adam replied, sitting back down.

The therapy organizer intervened, asking with forced enthusiasm and empathy, someone else to talk about him. At first, Adam couldn't help rolling his eyes as he listened to the other people's testimonials, and especially as he saw the sympathetic nods.

Leon didn't say much either. But he did listen. He listened a lot. He seemed to really listen to what others were saying. He didn't necessarily propose solutions, but offered a listening ear, a real listening ear.

Then Adam decided to speak up:

"Before the trap, I was… I was convinced I was nothing. I was alive, but I was nothing. I didn't even want to live. Today, I want to live, and I've realized it, but I'm just… too broken to live. I have nightmares every night. Horrible nightmares. I can't get into a bathtub without thinking about the trap. Everything brings me back to it."

He took a deep breath, holding back the rising tears. And it was Leon who came to his rescue by speaking up, diverting attention from the dozen or so curious faces scanning Adam, probably waiting for him to burst into tears.

"I was in Raccoon City when it happened. September 30, 1998… It's a day I'll never forget. Somehow, I made it out. But too many others...weren't so lucky. But deep down, I know that the cop inside me died that day. If I could just forget what happened that night, the pain—even for a second."

Leon swallowed his saliva with difficulty, his eyes moist and his fingers clutching the fabric of his jeans.

"Thank you for your testimony, Leon" said the organizer. With a wave of his arms, he invited the participants to repeat what he had just said, and there was a brouhaha of more or less sincere "thank you for your testimony, Leon".

The rest of the session passed laboriously, and when it was over and Adam had put on his jacket, Leon approached him. The room had already all but emptied.

"Hi. My name's Leon." "Adam" he replied in a formal, wary tone. "First session, huh?" "Yeah, and probably the last." Adam replied with a deeply jaded look.

Leon could see through Adam's game. He knew that Adam's cynical, sarcastic attitude was just a mask. Just as Leon had closed in on himself like a shell, Adam was trying to repel others.

They stared at each other for a long, long time. Soon, the room was completely empty.

"Shall I walk you back to the parking lot?" offered Leon to Adam. "Why not" the dark-haired man conceded.

Five minutes later, they were in the men's bathroom, Leon pinning Adam against the wall, pressing his body against his and greedily exploring his mouth, Adam's arms around Leon's neck and Leon's hands on Adam's hips.

"Is this how you welcome newcomers?" sneered Adam against the blond's lips, as he slid his knee between his legs. "Just you. Only you." moaned Leon in his ear, before disengaging himself from the brunet's embrace and wiping his lips. "See you at the next session, Stanheight?" "Wait, all this so I can continue your bullshit therapy?"

Leon gave him a mischievous smile, placed a tender kiss on his cheek, and exited the restroom. Just before, he turned back to Adam and whispered in a soft voice:

"It's a date, yes." "Shit."

And so it was that Adam Stanheight didn't miss a single session of group therapy.

#saw #saw 2004 #adam radford #adam faulkner #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x adam stanheight #adam stanheight x leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #dead by daylight #dbd

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flowerfletching · 5 months

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! TW for mentions of trauma and mental health !

Okay so I know this might sound bad but in all honesty...I think we need more Crowley angst. I love him dearly and he's one of my favorite characters, he's even my comfort character, and that's exactly why I need to subject him to as much sad as possible. And I don't just mean angst surrounding the fact that he loved Pauline and had to cope with her getting married to Halt, though I do think there's good angst there and that it can be a great thing to explore, it can also be a great factor in the next thing I'm about to say. The angst I mean is like full blown trauma and mental health issues being explored. Like, you can not tell me that Crowley isn't traumatized at least a little bit. He's been through war, has seen countless deaths, has made so many incredibly difficult decisions that almost no one else may have been able to make, has Halt for a best friend- The list can go on. And then there's also the fact that I genuinely don't believe that Crowley just doesn't have mental health issues. That's because I'm pretty sure that he'd have at least some level of PTSD from all the war and stuff, not only that but he'd also have carry all the guilt and stress that his job brings as well.

I think he also has to be like a constant support for many people so that adds on to his stresses too, though I think that could be one of his reasons to live too depending on the situation. I'm sure he does care about them but I don't doubt that it could still weigh on him. I've also noticed that he jokes around and smiles a lot, which is fine, but it could be like a coping mechanism. Or it could also be a way to hide how he's really feeling. It could be absolute hell in his head but he still might never let anyone know, he may not even think of doing such a thing. The reason could be that he's worries about bothering people with his mental health, that he thinks everyone else is in enough pain that he doesn't want to add on with his own, or that he doesn't think he can even be saved at this point, or it could even be for some other undiscovered reason.

Not to mention that I don't think we even know much about his backstory, though I could be missing something and I could be very wrong. But if I'm right that means that we have no idea of the pains he went through when he was younger, and that we can forge a past for him for him to have to suffer through.

I understand that none of this may be canon and I'm not claiming that any of it is, I just want to see more people explore just how much sad a broken and mentally ill Crowley can cause. I understand that we have established traumas to work with like Will's enslavement and Halt's family issues, and I do think they're good to play around with, just to be clear. But I want to see people mess with Crowley a bit more.

Not to mention the different ways that we can play around with it too. Just him having trauma and horrible mental health alone could be bad enough but just imagine him having to suffer through it alone. Or you could imagine how it could be if anyone found out. That could be through him either telling someone or through them finding out in one of the worst ways possible, or through any other way your mind can create.

There are so many possibilities with this in my opinion and I hope I have convinced you at least a little bit with this ramble of mine, though I completely understand if I didn't and I am in no way trying to pressure anyone into creating something they aren't comfortable with. Like I said before, I absolutely love Crowley and believe that he deserves the world so I have no issue reading and seeing him getting that, in fact I'd love to see more of it! But I also can't help but wonder what it would be like to see his world burn to ashes, or worse, to see the people who see him as their world have to watch him slip through their fingertips just because he could save everyone, and yet no one could save him from himself. But I think that's enough of me so I will leave you with one final question: will you join me in exploring just how traumatized Crowley Meratyn can really be?

#ranger's apprentice #crowley meratyn #angst #trauma

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traumapyre-moved · 10 months

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So, small little thing.

I worry I might be making people feel I am uninterested when it comes to speaking or interacting. Mainly bc i am well aware i disappear, and sometimes show favortism towards certain muns or threads.

That is NOT the case. If I follow you, I want to interact. Explanation below the cut.

TL:DR: My mental and physical health suck. It makes me feel crappy and influences how my time is spent here. The more I am comfortable with someone, the more likely I will be social, but even then, that's not a promise lately. :(

The thing is, I have several mental illnesses and chronic pain, and I am a parent. This is the basic norm that can always cause different outcomes to how much time is devoted here. Sometimes, I only want to post crack and memes, others I may only interact with muns I know I play off of well, others it's up to the muse.

Lately, however, it's more than that. For the past month and half, I have been TIRED. Regardless of how well I sleep or eat and all my blood work is good?? (Yes, I have a sleep study Scheduled) I constantly feel like I haven't slept in days and will fall asleep sitting up all the time. This lethargy lasts basically the majority of the time now. I may get a few hours at night where I feel awake, but by then, my pain flares hit. To the point of needing my medication and boom, medication knocks me out. (Mostly)

Obviously, the above is going to take a toll on my mental capacity. By nature, I tend to be very reserved until I get to know someone, and even then, I have my days where I just get ANXIOUS. I worry I bother others or some silly thing, or I feel I need a REASON to approach.

Once I get comfy with others, I will do a near 180 in personality. Just ask those that deal with my klaus jokes before everyone else :^)...but like, fr? I SUCK at social interaction. Bc I get distracted, suddenly anxious, I THINK i replied but turns out I just replied in my head and for some reason believe it's your turn to reply.😭

#⋅⋆☾out of blood:ooc☽⋆⋅

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thotsfortherapy · 3 months

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TY for sharing about your roommate. It's a tough world and building community helps us navigate it together.

so true !!! I'm glad my venting was able to help 😭 i don't remember what my last update on the situation was since tumblr's search system is hella broken but essentially what ended up happening was after I sent my giant text message calling them out for their behaviour, they basically went MIA from the house and continued avoiding me like the plague. they drifted to a different friend group (who I am also friends with) and proceeded to treat them the exact same way they treated me. they then got dropped by these friends, and then during the summer met a random 28 year old at pride and went on a roadtrip with them and then never came back. and also quit their job as the head manager of my friend's work and left the place in shambles (literally got paid for the entire summer to set up this program and then did not do anything to set it up to the point where it literally could not open part of the first semester lol).

they also blocked everyone on everything including our landlord but still pays rent every month and all their shit is still at our house. over christmas break they came back and grabbed a lot of their stuff but hid from everyone in the house (they arrived very early in the morning and only left once everyone was not in the house lol, the only reason we know they were there is cause their room was rearranged and one of the housemates heard them whispering to someone over the phone through the vents...) also them arriving super early means they must've made their parents drive them at like. 3-4am 😭 just so they could avoid running into us 😭 like bro

but tbh all of this is very best case scenario for me because I am besties with everyone they treated terribly and we are doing our grad trip together... tbh the entire fiasco was a bonding experience for everyone and I genuinely love my friend group

as for the housemate... honestly I feel bad for them because they are clearly not well.. at this point it's been long enough that I can get over my initial feelings of righteous anger and hurt and see that they are just very mentally ill. apparently they are taking a year long mental health break from school and I fully agree with that decision because damn girl wtf. does not excuse the behaviour or make up for the hurt they caused but I am very grateful they were able to recognize they were not okay when they did...

when I'm in a joking mood I like to tell people I drove them out of town with one text message... when I'm in a serious mood I tell people that our conflict was a catalyst but they were already on a downwards spiral and if I were not the one who triggered their breakdown something else would have.

ultimately I am glad I called them out and defended my people and my peace. I hope they are able to find that for themselves one day too :)

#cy says stuff #housemate drama #also apologies for not being active on this blog life has been good to me lately

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taibobo · 1 year

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brain damaged postal dude mental illness lore hcs no one asked for and also self ship stuff

he has some kind of dissociative identity disorder, whether it’s DID or OSDD or how many alters he may have is entirely unclear and his levels of amnesia vary wildly depending on his mental state/what his alters were doing/why they fronted

the only alter he’s had contact with/actually recognizes the existence of is alter dude/the other dude (he calls him the other dude, but the alter self identifies as alter dude)

alter dude is pretty self aware of the reason why he exists and holds some significant level of childhood trauma related to postal dude’s father (who in this universe/my hc is the postal 1 postal dude or someone similar. an extremely mentally unstable paranoid man who may have involuntarily taken his delusions out on his kid. american health care is not good) this is why alter dude has the voice of rick hunter

postal dude is fairly pacifist and doesn’t kill people often, while alter dude kills people with only some modicum of discretion, usually when they’re keeping him from or antagonizing him while getting things done. postal dude is somewhat aware of this but has stopped letting it affect him because it doesn’t seem to matter

my s/i (i’m just gonna use first person from here on out lol) was informed at the beginning of the relationship that postal dude has at least one recognizable alter and was just like “oh. okay cool (is also mentally ill)” cause idgaf clearly

i am dating postal dude formally and dating alter dude informally. neither of them care because they consider themselves two parts of a whole and not really separate people. even if they did consider themselves separate identities they are not really the monogamous exclusive type so

alter dude is the less touchy/affectionate of the two, but makes up with it in a lot of false bravado and corny embarrassing dom flirting (he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t exactly front during sex or dates and his memories of those aren’t shared mostly so he’s basically a hapless virgin)

postal dude is more physical in terms of his love language, but speaks much more casually and frankly as if i am like his best friend who he makes out with and says he loves. very good chill vibes

sometimes they get mad at each other because they basically operate like roommates who never see each other in terms of living. postal dude complaining about alter dude not washing the dishes or eating his food when he knows he’s been out, alter dude annoyed that postal dude doesn’t do his specific strange neurodivergent rituals, etc. they don’t actually hate each other though they just like to squabble

though dude’s head trauma didn’t give him his dissociative disorder or exacerbate it or anything it probably gave him some sort of physical symptom like chronic migraines or nerve damage. as someone who also has both of these i love projecting ❤️ and also it would make me a good nurse for him ❤️

i call alter dude A.D but he doesn’t like when anyone else calls him that. he just prefers being called dude by everyone else as if he’s the same guy as postal dude because he finds drawing attention to himself causes him more problems (which makes him want to kill which triggers his stuff about his dad which makes him more violent etc etc. negative feedback loop. he’s gotten a little better at grounding himself though)

champ can tell the difference between the two and treats them differently. he’s basically their service dog but without any real formal training. he’s just a smart boy

#postai

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