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totally-not-a-cannibal-hannibal · 11 months

Text

To My Taste

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Part 8: Hedonistic

Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️ 18+ but there isn't really sex just heavy petting. Obsessive Behavior, gaslighting. Mentions of both Somnophilia and CNC kinda.

There was a prick in my arm that made my eyes pop open. Hannibal was trying to put an IV in. I moved my arm away from whatever it was in the IV bag, he was about to put in the IV. He looked surprised for a split second before smiling.

"There is my favorite patient." He said as he tried to continue to hook up the IV to the bag of liquid. I put my hand over the IV opening.

"What are you doing?" The words felt like mush in my mouth. I must have still been high from the codeine he gave me.

"You have been asleep for almost a day. I was going to give you fluids so you didn't get dehydrated. May I continue?" He asked as he looked down at my hand. I looked up at the bag of mystery liquid. What was I thinking? This is Hannibal, what would he possibly put in an IV that would hurt me. Giving him a sheepish grin I nod and move my hand.

"Where is Will?" I ask wincing as Hannibal plugs in the tubing.

"Working I'm afraid. We will just have to keep each other company." He jokes while taking off his gloves.

"I need to get to work. It's been days." I try to sit up but Hannibal stops me.

"Jack came by this morning, we told him you were still sleeping and were having a difficult time adjusting. He wants you to take a few more days." Hannibal says as he tucks the covers back around me.

"They are still looking for the man? It's wasting resources. Maybe we should just tell them the truth." The last part came out as a mumble. It was taking a lot of effort to choose the right words. I knew what I wanted to say, it was a matter of making my mouth say it. Hannibal shushes me and puts my hand back under the blanket.

"That would only cause the team more problems. Think how sad Beverly would be if you were found guilty of murder. You wouldn't be able to see Will or I in Jail. We'd all be in trouble." I could tell he was using simpler words than normally would. It did make sense though. I didn't want to go to jail.

"I feel bad." I say softly looking up at him. He checked the IV bag and moved my head to the side very gently.

"I know you do. Guilt is understandable. You have been through something traumatic but you did the right thing. A man like that shouldn't be around people." He says as he starts parting my hair like he was looking for something.

"What are you doing now?" I question keeping my head perfectly still for him.

"I am checking the stitches and bruises. You seem to be healing nicely. We will see how your pain is once the drugs wear off." His fingers delicately dance through my hair. I had no doubt this would hurt without the codeine but for now it felt like he was just playing with my hair. I grin and close my eyes enjoying the sensation.

He brushed my hair down flat and turned my head to the other side. His hands were really warm. I could feel myself start to slip back to sleep. I jerk my body to wake up. If I slept anymore I'd lose it. Too much sleep always puts me in a fog.

"Did something hurt?" He asked as he paused his gentle head massage.

"No, I don't want to go back to sleep." Opening my eyes I look out his window at the treeline. It was pouring outside. The rain tapped against the window. He chuckled softly as he smoothed my hair out again and pulled his hands away.

"I was thinking about last night. Did you enjoy the meat you ate?" He asked as he took out a small light and shined it in my eyes. Letting out a whine I squint and pull my hands to my face to block the light. He was checking to make sure my pupils dilated and I guess I passed the test because he put his light away quickly.

His question bounced around in my head. I had almost forgotten I had meat last night. Far more eventful things happened that night that had my attention.

"Yeah it was good. It was a little too bloody." I was doing my best to speak clearly to avoid the embarrassment of mumbling anymore. Hannibal chuckled again and nodded. He seemed pleased with my answer. His eyes wrinkled up a bit the way they do when he is cooking or looking at Will.

"If I made you some more would you try it again?"

"What If I don't like it? I don't want it to go to waste." I say as I look back over at the IV. I found myself trying to pick at the tape holding it in place.

"I will finish it if you don't. I would like for you to be able to enjoy what Will and I do." He said as he gingerly took my hand away from the tape and put it back under the blanket again. He tucked my upper body in a little more snuggly this time. "So can I get you to try some more?"

"Alright." I wasn't sure why it was so important to him. Maybe it was a cultural difference. I wouldn't want to be rude. He smiled at me. It reached his eyes yet again, making me smile back. He had such a sweet smile. When it reached his eyes it made me melt. I look away from him to avoid getting butterflies.

"I'm going to make you some food. If you need anything just call." He says as he leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. He lingered for a second. My face got warm and I closed my eyes so I could enjoy the feeling of his lips against my skin.

"Sounds good." I whisper as I turn my head away from him to look out the window. He left the room and kept the door wide open.

He had nearly imprisoned me in this blanket. There was hardly any room to move. It seemed the more I strained the tighter my wrappings got.

Giving myself a rest for a moment I look around his room for something that I could focus on to keep myself awake. The conversation I caught last night sprung to mind. Will was feeding his dogs something. He was taking a cut of something. I wished they had spoken more frankly. They could be so vague it drives me crazy.

Laying in this position all day was starting to make me sore. Which was a good sign because that meant the drugs were wearing off. I continued my fight with the blankets again but this time I made some headway. I was able to wiggle my arm free. It was all I needed to unwrap myself from this cotton trap.

Sitting up I inspect the IV bag holder. It didn't have wheels on the bottom like most. I didn't feel like I was all that dehydrated so I disconnected the tubing to the bag and used the bed to push myself to my feet. I was too chicken to try and take the IV out myself.

Walking wasn't as difficult as it initially seemed. Once I got my footing it was easy enough. Now out from under the blanket I realized how cold I was. In truth I wasn't even sure why I was looking for Hannibal, being alone just didn't feel right.

Finally making my way to the kitchen I found he wasn't here but all his cooking equipment was. Waiting for him there didn't occur to me. I started down another hall in search of my Doctor. He turned a corner holding a cut of meat wrapped in white paper.

"Now how did you get over here?" He grinned but he seemed a little vexed.

"I wanted to walk." I say as I lean against the wall taking a small break. He held out his arm for me to use to steady myself.

"Come along then, it would seem I need to tuck you in a little more tightly." We make it to the kitchen again and he lays the meat down on the counter before using his newly freed hand to lead me back to his room.

"Why do I have to be in here? I can walk fine." It sounded a bit more whiny than I intended it to. Hannibal let go of me suddenly and I stumbled before regaining my coordination. My knees wobbled like a spotted fawn. Standing was harder than walking somehow. The ground spun beneath me whenever I stood still.

"Yes you seem quite sturdy." He taunted, with a soft smile. He took my hand to help me back into bed. "You are shaking, it is dangerous to try and walk alone. You do seem to be getting more lucid. The fact you were able to untuck yourself is impressive in itself. Your fine motor skills are present seeing as you managed to unplug your IV. Be patient and the drugs should be out of your system soon enough, then you can wander all you want." He lightly scolded as he allowed me to sit up in bed.

"Oh Hannibal, you really know how to compliment a girl. Never had a man compliment my ability to untuck myself from his bed." He wasn't wrong though. I was feeling more alert and less sluggish. He started to hook the IV back in when I stopped him. "I don't feel dehydrated and I'm awake now so I can just drink something right?" I ask looking up at him.

"If you think you feel well enough I suppose it's not needed." He agreed. He gently peeled the tape from the crease of my elbow and expertly removed the IV. Without warning he leaned down and kissed the spot the needle had been. My eyes widened as I watched him.

It was a delicate but firm kiss. My stomach did flips as he stood up straight again. The smallest dot of blood sat on his bottom lip until he licked it away, as if he didn't even notice it. He placed his thumb over the needle spot. Reaching for his first aid kit on the table he pulls out a band-aid to cover the small wound. "There we go all better." He spoke but I wasn't really listening. My heart was still fluttering from his tender kiss.

"What was that for?" I was baffled by him yet again. My cheeks felt red hot as they blushed for him.

"It was an apology for the blemish and pain." He said as he moved the IV bag and holder away from the bed.

"Apology accepted. You do that for all your patients?" I ask with a smirk. Flirting with him seemed like a bad idea but I couldn't resist.

"Only for the ones who look so sweet when they blush." He spoke so matter of factly but still somehow sounded flirtatious.

"Oh you use that line on Will?" I couldn't let myself be the only one who was frazzled. I give him an almost smug grin as I look up at him. I wanted to see him squirm under my bluntness. His expression didn't change, he didn't seem shy about it in the slightest.

"No, I just propositioned him with sex. No line was required." He said with his own smirk now.

"What a lucky man." I remark

"Are you referring to Will or I?" He asked as he leaned against the bedside table and crossed his arms.

"Both." I say softly looking up at him. He let out a small chuckle in acceptance.

"Are you the hedonistic type Lydia?" The question took me by surprise.

"That's a word, hedonistic. I never understood if that word was supposed to be offensive. Nothing wrong with the pursuit of pleasure."

"If you think so, why haven't you answered my question?"

"Why did you ask the question?" We sat there for a moment just staring as if waiting for the other to break.

"It is bad manners to answer a question with a question of your own." His tone is different. It could have just as easily been interpreted as a warning of some kind.

"It's bad manners to tease your guests." I say with a playful grin. It seemed I had gotten some kind of rise out of him. He seemed to be affected by my words now.

"I'm not teasing you, not yet anyway." His lip curled into a slow grin as he looked down at me. The look in his eye wasn't too dissimilar to the look Will gets. It was dark but seemed more restrained.

Something about his expression was alarming. I wasn't sure what it was but looking into his eyes I felt like prey looking into a hungry predator's eyes.

He stood up straight and the look in his eyes changed along with his grin. "I'm going to prepare our meal. I'll be back soon. Don't leave the bed again please." He requests as he leaves the room. I was left wondering how much of what I felt was intentional on his part.

A boom of thunder broke my concentration as a storm brewed outside. Normally a storm wouldn't bother me but today it seemed to weigh on my mind more then it should. I jumped with every crack of thunder. The wind picked up quick and the trees swayed and bent in the storm.

Hannibal returned after a while with a tray full of food and drinks. He sat the tray down on the bedside table and pulled a chair near the bed before handing me my plate. It was some kind of thinly sliced meat arranged beautifully to look like a flower of some kind. His plate had an equally beautiful arrangement of meat that looked a bit more bloody than mine.

"I am testing out arrangements for a dinner party I plan to have soon. What do you think of the Dahlia?" He asked gesturing to the elaborate looking flower made of meat on my plate.

"It is certainly original, must have taken you a while. Why a Dahlia?" I ask as I gently feel one of its petals.

"Dahlias are a resilient flower but also fragile. They can bloom in intense heatwaves while all its garden mates wilt and crisp under a harsh sun, but they have very weak stems. They often collapse under the weight of their own buds and blossoms. I enjoy the duality and versatility of the flower, and they are beautiful." He perfects his own arrangement as he speaks. He seemed completely absorbed in the task. It was obvious he put so much thought into the arrangement.

"And here I was thinking you just liked old unsolved cases." I say with a grin. The faux flower seemed almost too pretty to ruin by cutting into it with silverware. Hannibal nodded and grinned at me.

"Well yes of course the murder comes to mind as well. Such a dark mind for a bright young woman." I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult but either way I couldn't stop myself from blushing yet again. He took pity on me and didn't mention my red cheeks. "Well it's not just meant to be beautiful, please try it." He sounded almost excited for me to try. I don't keep him in suspense for long. I used the fork to scoop up some petals and put them into my mouth. They were so soft and smooth they almost felt like a real plant but the taste was unmistakably meat.

"It's good, the texture is great. I think the meat taste pretty good as well. I like it." I say as I take another bite. His face lights up as he nods.

"Good! I was worried the texture was too thin. I want the guest to enjoy the delicateness of the petals without taking from the meat's natural texture."

"As normal you have nailed it Hannibal this is really great." He seemed proud. I always liked seeing someone indulge in something they love. It's the main reason I went fishing with Will.

We enjoyed both our arrangements in comfortable silence. Once we both finished Hannibal collected the plates and placed them on the tray.

The storm showed no sign of slowing. I was a bit worried about Will making it back safely. My attention was pulled by Hannibal who cleared his throat.

"May I confess something to you?" I look over at him. I was almost worried what might come out if this man's mouth next.

"Of course what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, I just want to be transparent with you. I have a guilty conscience. I let the air out of your tire the first night you stayed. I snuck out while the food was cooking and unscrewed your air cap." He said he felt guilty but he didn't really look it. He sat straight in his chair and looked me in the eye he spoke so confidently.

"Um alright why? Did you do that?" I was sure he had his reasons but it did tick me off a little.

"I was worried about you. Your attacker was still out there and I didn't want you to go home to an empty house."

"Oh Hannibal you could have just came out and said that. I would have stayed." It was a sweet thought. It felt strange to have someone go behind my back to try and protect me, almost like receiving a backhanded compliment.

"No you wouldn't have, you would have fought tooth and nail to not feel like a burden so I had to give you no option. And my actions were not entirely altruistic, it was my attempt to help Will. He had mentioned his interest in you. I thought if you two spent more time together outside of work it might help his chances. Unfortunately I believe his nerves got the better of him and he overdid it with the alcohol." Hannibal stopped speaking for a second and looked out the window before speaking again. "And I wasn't dreading the idea of spending more time with you."

"Well um you really thought long and hard about it, it would seem. Just don't do that again. If you wanted to spend time together you could have just asked." I lean forward a bit to bring my face into his line of sight. It seemed to work and he looked back at me. He grinned and nodded as he stood up to take the tray.

"I'm going to clean this up. Would you like to come with me?" He asked as he held out his hand to help me out of bed. I jumped at the opportunity to get out of this room.

Taking his hand I got up and used his shoulder to steady myself. The walk was easy enough. Eating some food had really helped in my recovery from this hellish drug he gave me.

Once in the kitchen I sat down on one of the stools as he started to clear the tray. I was about to ask him if he wanted help when the front door was opened quickly and closed. Will fought to fold up a broken umbrella as he stepped into the foyer and spotted us in the kitchen.

"Hell of a storm. You got candles Hannibal?" He asked as he took off his rain soaked coat and hat.

"I have many." Hannibal answers from the sink with a grin.

"Good, good to see you up and around." Will says as he puts a hand on my face and leans down to kiss me. I was so surprised by the kiss I left my eyes open. He pulled away and chuckled softly.

"Yeah hey there." I say taken off guard. The kiss wasn't unwelcomed, it just wasn't expected. Hannibal didn't even seem to notice the random kiss.

"Did you miss me?" Will asked me with a grin as he stole another peck of a kiss from my lips.

"Of course I did but Hannibal kept me company. He made us meat flowers." As I speak Will started undoing his sleeve buttons. He laughed once I finished talking and looked at Hannibal like I was crazy.

"Yeah meat flower? That sounds interesting." He sounded like he was talking to a child.

"No she isn't mistaken, I made a meat arrangement that resembled a Dahlia." Hannibal corrects him. Will looks surprised but nods.

"Sorry I thought you were still loopy. You were feeling pretty good this morning and were saying some funny stuff." Will says as he leans against the bar. I laugh a little, feeling embarrassed.

"Oh no what did I say?"

"It's alright Hannibal warned me you might be out of it. You asked if I wanted to mess around." He said with a playful grin.

"Oh god! sorry about that." I say sheepish. I glanced up at Hannibal who didn't seem to have any reaction to what was said.

"Don't apologize, it was fun." Will says as he puts his hand on my thigh. I didn't catch it at first. I put my face in my hands and laughed until it hit me.

"What was fun?" I asked, feeling a pit grow in my stomach. He looked like a deer in headlights as he realized something.

"Well when I-." He paused and looked embarrassed now. "When I fingered you." He whispered the last part. I pulled away from him, surprised.

"You what?!." I pushed his hand off my thigh and looked at him disgusted.

"I'm sorry I didn't think you'd mind. You asked me to. You don't remember it? I figured you were into it." Will did seem genuinely sorry not for doing it but for the misunderstanding perhaps. I looked up at Hannibal for back up. He had poured himself some scotch and was sipping it as he listened to us. He was completely unfazed.

His reaction made me feel almost silly. Like I was overreacting. Will put his arm around me and pulled me closer.

"You knew I was out of it." I said looking up at him. His brow furrowed for a second before grinning.

"I didn't know you wouldn't remember. If I would have known that I wouldn't have done it. I'm so sorry, forgive me?" He leaned down and gave me another kiss. The situation felt off but he probably did think I was into it. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about his fingers inside of me before. He was hard to be mad at. He was holding my face so tenderly and his lips were so soft against mine. That's when I remembered Hannibal was still in the room. I pulled away from the kiss and looked over at him. He was still just looking at us. His expression was unreadable. I turned my attention back to Will.

"Just don't do it again." I say softly. I felt violated but something deep in me almost liked the idea of it in a sick twisted way it felt romantic. I wasn't proud of this feeling but I also couldn't stop it.

"I promise." He said before trying to kiss me again. I turn my head not wanting to be kissed like that again in front of Hannibal. I was feeling extra shy and sensitive after this situation came to light. Hannibal seemed to understand without being told and he turned around to organize some pots and pans. Will didn't take the hint. He used his hand to turn my face back to him and kissed me a bit more forcefully. I couldn't help but kiss him back.

"I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?" He asked, finally breaking the kiss. I shook my head no.

"No, my head is starting to hurt. Maybe next time." I say with a small grin. He seemed okay with me not coming along.

"Hannibal?" He asked, looking over at him. Hannibal looked up at the clock and turned around.

"I'd be delighted. Will you be okay alone?" He asked as he looked at me. I was surprised by how casual he was about joining Will's shower.

"Oh um yeah totally. I'm just going to watch some TV or something." I stuttered a bit looking at the two men. The openness about sex would take some getting used to.

Hannibal had made his way to Will and kissed him sweetly on the cheek before the two men walked off together. I felt jealous but I wasn't sure who I was jealous of.

Shaking the thought from my head I got up and carefully walked to the living room. It was a minor miracle Hannibal even had a TV he didn't seem like the type to watch television. I flipped through the channels before landing on the news. It was a special segment dedicated to missing persons.

A few unfamiliar faces passed by as the news anchor spoke about them until something caught my eye in one of the photos. It was a mugshot of a man accompanied by pictures of unique features he had. On his calf was a tattoo of a tiger. The exact tattoo I remembered seeing on the dismembered leg in Hannibal's basement. My blood ran cold as I listened to the news anchor speak. The man was a career criminal. He went missing a few weeks ago from his home.

I thought back to the supposed hallucination I had about Hannibal's basement. I know it was the same tattoo. It was really poorly done, probably got it in prison or done by a friend with a tattoo gun. They showed me the pig's body; it definitely wasn't human. Did Hannibal move the body and replace it? My stomach churned at the thought. He was so willing to hide my attacker's body. Maybe it wasn't his first time.

I was going to be smart about it this time. I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I'll ask Will to come with me to the basement when Hannibal isn't around. We can look together. I won't even have to tell Will what I'm looking for. This way Hannibal wouldn't be able to lie his way out of it.

The shower turned off and I could faintly hear the men talking in Hannibal's room. I changed the channel and tried to look natural. They came out to the living room shortly after.

The night continued on. I had to wait till Hannibal was asleep or gone before I could tell Will anything. Going through the evening was exhausting. Hannibal was so perceptive. He could tell something was wrong. I had to keep reassuring him it was just my head. He was eager to offer me all sorts of methods of pain management. I was growing more and more nervous that I was tipping him off to something. It was nearly 11 when Hannibal got a call. It was a patient of his. They had tried to hurt themselves and were begging to see him at the hospital.

"Do you want us to come along?" Will offered as Hannibal pulled on his coat and got a new umbrella from the holder by the door. I stayed calm not wanting to seem too eager to get Will alone.

"No, I will be alright. I don't want you two out in this storm. Thank you though, make sure she gets some rest and I'll be home soon." Hannibal said as he kissed Will and I on our cheeks. He seemed more affectionate. That was good. He must not have suspected anything.

I watched Hannibal go to his car and pull out of his driveway. Will seemed excited for him to leave for a different reason. He came up behind me and started kissing on my neck while he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm so sorry about this morning." He said in between slow sweet kisses. I was trying to think of what I could tell him to get him in that basement that didn't make me sound crazy.

"It's okay Will. It was a misunderstanding, It happens." I say trying to ease his mind.

"You just looked so beautiful. You fell asleep in my arms. I think I found a new turn on." He whispered in my ear. I was hardly listening to him. I was too busy trying to think up a lie.

"Drugging a girl?" I tease him a bit. He laughed as he pressed my hips against his. I could feel his member at attention against me.

"You sleeping, you looked so peaceful." He said as he tried to lift my sleep shirt. I keep my arms down by my side stopping him. What he was staying didn't make sense. I didn't think I was asleep when he touched me this morning.

"I thought I was awake." I say as I pull my hips away from him ever so slightly.

"You were awake in the beginning. Then you laid your head on my shoulder and fell asleep. It was so intimate, you trusted me so much." He started to rub his hand against the front of my underwear under my sleep shirt. I was half disgusted and half turned on. I wanted to hit him for not stopping once I fell asleep but at the same time I wanted him to fuck me right there in the foyer. I had to focus, our psychiatrist could be a murdering cannibal.

"I need your help." I say as I pull his hand away from my crotch. He wasn't going to let me move from his grasp though.

"Anything, just say it." He hummed as he bit at my neck.

"I think I lost my earring in Hannibal's basement when we were down there. Can you help me look for it?" He stopped all of his canoodling as soon as I mentioned the basement.

"You are thinking about your earrings right now?" He laughed as he turned me around to face him.

"It's the most expensive pair I have." I say as I give him an apologetic kiss for ruining the mood. It was a long shot. Will had a great memory and I worried he'd remember I wasn't wearing earrings that night. His mind seemed more preoccupied with a more pressing matter than my earring.

He leaned down and kissed me back as he tried to pick me up. I had to pull my body from his to get him to regain focus. "Will, please! I love those earrings." He wiped his mouth as he looked down at the ground. He seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts.

"Alright stay here." He said as he went to head towards the basement.

"I'll come along, the more eyes the better. It's super small. You might miss it." I say as I hurry after him. I lose my footing and stumble behind him. He turned around to try and catch me. "I'm fine, I'm fine, let's just look for the earring." I say smiling at him. I was doing my best to not seem desperate.

"There is no way I'm taking you down there. There is a table saw and a concrete floor. It's a death trap for you in this state. I won't be long, just stay put." He tried to walk me to the sofa but I refused to sit.

"Just let me help!" I shout as I push his hands off me. He seemed to have caught on.

"Lydia we have been through this, there is nothing down there. There wasn't the other night and there isn't tonight. Hannibal isn't chopping people up in his basement." Will was speaking softly and gently. Like he was talking to a wounded animal.

"No Will look, look at this." I say as I grab my phone from the coffee table. I pull up the missing persons report and show him the tattoo. "It's the tattoo I saw. Maybe I'm mistaken but I don't think I am so let's go down there and check it out please!" I beg as he takes my phone to get a better look.

"Is this even a tiger? Looks more like an alpaca." He says under his breath. He closed my phone and looked down at me. He was thinking about something. He had started to sweat when I showed him the picture. He either thought I was going crazy or he was starting to believe me.

"Just one look." I say as I lean against him. "Please."

"I'll look. You can't even walk in a straight line without help. Let me go down and check it all out." He says with a small smile. It wasn't ideal but at least he seemed to believe me or at least believe that I thought this was real.

"Okay yeah sure. Just look in the freezers. Look for hairs, human hair." I say as I sit down on the sofa. He nods and puts my phone in his pocket. I thought it was odd but maybe he wanted it for a light.

"Stay here. Don't move please." He said as he kissed me on the forehead. I agreed as he walked down the hall. It wasn't very long at all. Not even two minutes before I couldn't take it anymore. I walked after him, he must have been in the basement because the door was cracked open. I snuck over and peeked through the crack. I couldn't see anything other than the stairs.

Will was talking down there. I couldn't really hear him so I quietly opened the door and squeezed through. Scooting down slowly on my butt I got near the bottom of the steps and could finally hear him.

"Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!" He whispered. I have never heard that tone from Will. He sounded absolutely crazed so mad he could hardly form a coherent sentence.

Was he talking to himself? I stood up and peeked around the corner so I could try and see what was happening. Will's back was to me. He was moving something into a closet, it looked like a hospital bed. On the bed looked to be a person, or at least I think it was a person. They were covered in a white sheet and were hooked up to a machine on wheels of some kind. I held my breath not wanting him to know I was lurking.

"Help." Someone gasped out from the sheet. They hardly sounded human.

"Shut up!" Will barked in a hushed tone. I yelped in surprise, making Will freeze. He knew I was here.

#hannibal #will graham #hannigram #nbc hannibal #nbc hannigram #yandere hannibal #dark fanfiction #oc stuff #yandere will graham

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cillspropertea · 2 years

Text

No Fucking Way (New Cillian Murphy Fic)

Chapter 1: Waking up

Warnings: Mentions of an accident.

Y/N finds herself in a unique situation where her heart wants to believe everything but her mind wants her to repress herself to prevent heartbreak. The love of her life is miraculously close enough to touch but everything stops with the question, “Is any of this real?”

Authors note: I apologize beforehand to how medically incompatible this story will be, as I am not a professional doctor, just a fanfic writer with an idea she cannot contain in her head anymore. So, please, bear with me.😇😉

Looking forward to your feedback.✨✨

Word count: 2112

It was dark and my eyelids felt heavy. I felt so comfortable and cozy in my bed cocooned under my blanket, reading my favorite smutty Cillian Murphy fan-fiction on Tumblr. I’d had a long and tiring day at work. But no matter what, I always made time to read about Cillian and stay updated about all the latest news and info on him. I’d joined multiple accounts and pages on Facebook, Instagram and twitter to do so. God! He was so sexy, ‘I would give anything to be his woman! Anything!’ I thought. But he was happily married to the love of his life, who was a bombshell. Multiple media sources had actually called her a mixture of Catherine Zeta jones and Sofia Vergara ‘Pfft! They needed glasses. She isn’t THAT beautiful!’ but she was. I didn’t hate her, no sir-oo! But one shouldn’t be blamed to envy the world’s luckiest woman right? She had everything, a successful career, and a baby on the way and Cillian as her husband! God really has his favorites, doesn’t he!? There was no chance for me, ‘Not in this life at least!’ I’d chuckled silently. I looked at his ‘Thomas Shelby’ picture with my favorite quote on the wall for the last time before giving in to the inescapable slumber.

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They did several tests on me, the reports of which weren’t due till the next day. The Doctor even tickled my feet with his pen “To check the movement…” I was sure he'd left inky lines on my soles. “Now, Y/N, My name is Doctor Benjamin.” The older Doc began once again. “I am handling your case. I would like to inform you that you’d had an accident. Things were critical for some time, but all seems to be okay now. How are you feeling dear?” He raised his eyebrows. “Okay I guess. I have a massive headache and my body feels, heavy. Other than that I feel fine.” I replied, subconsciously moving my hands and feet, opening and closing my fists. “That’s completely normal. You would be feeling like your old self in no time. You did give us a scare there young lady! You certainly took your time.” He waved a finger at me as if talking to a child. “But I don’t understand…” my fingers touched my pounding temple. “Understand what?” Doctor Benjamin picked up my file and started writing something on it. “I don’t remember having an accident. I just remember going to bed after a long day of work…” This caught his attention, he handed over the file to the nurse standing beside him. An expression of worry crossed his face for a moment but he recovered quickly. “Ahaan. So the last thing you remember…” I completed, “… is me sleeping in my bed.” He took out the small light from his pocket and once again checked my eyes. Opening them with his thumb. “It’s okay dear. You have been in a coma for two years. Things can get a little jumbled up and believe me when I say this, they’ll sort out on their own too…” he asked the nurse softly to call Doctor Sophia immediately. “Two years? No way no fucking way!” I started to panic, pushing away the sheet to get up. I winced when the IV got pulled because of my sudden movements. But when I tried to put my weight on my legs, they wobbled and I found myself on the floor. The Doctor very politely helped me back up on the bed, “Easy Y/N, easy. It will take time for your body to adjust to movement. After all you have been on this bed for the past two years!” I tried to calm my breathing and the nurse helped me, signaling me to take deeper breaths and lie back down on the bed. I was glad that she’d covered me with the blanket again as I was just in a hospital gown, tied scantily from the back, with nothing at all underneath. “Better?” the nurse asked smiling sympathetically. I nodded, “What year is it?” I suddenly asked the Doctor who looked like he was solving big number multiplications in his head while staring at me. “It’s 2024. Today its November 3rd, 2024.” My eyes widened as my fingers once again tried to massage my temple, “Fuck!” I mumbled. “Your family has been informed. They’ll probably be on their way right now. All will be fine now. Just take one day at a time dear, one day at a time.” The doctor tapped my shoulder reassuringly before leaving with the nurse. But I could see the Doctor was a bit worried too. God! Why couldn’t I remember anything about the accident? I closed my eyes sighing heavily.

Waking up I could hear people around with a continuous beeping sound. My eyelids felt too heavy as I fluttered them open, trying to see what was going on. “She’s awake! Doctor, we need to call the doctor!” I heard a female voice panic. I was covered in tubes and drips and when I tried to move my limbs, they felt heavy and sore as if I’d been traveling for days, on foot. I opened my mouth to say something but my throat constricted with thirst. It felt like I hadn’t had a single sip of water for days. “Water! Please…” I croaked, to nobody in particular. Then suddenly I felt someone force open my eyes, one at a time, and point a light directly in to them. “Her vitals seem fine.” The doctor said to the nurse next to him. I asked for water again and this time the nurse helped me sip some, my consciousness gradually coming back as my eyes started to focus a bit. “What’s happening? Where am I?” I questioned, panicking. The beeping sound on the machine increased its pace, “Now now… let’s not get too worried there. I assure you Y/N you’ll get answers to all of your questions. But first just let us examine you okay?” The doctor was older than my father. His grey side burns reminded me of him. His tone and words instantly calmed me down as I leaned back and cooperated with the medical staff.

I was in a hospital room, which did not look like a hospital room at all. It looked more like a luxurious hotel room. The blinds were letting in sunlight and giving the room a very dreamy look. The whole room was set up in shades of grey, brown and beige.

-----

How was I here? The room looked too luxurious. There was no way Mother could have afforded it. Maybe a lot changed in the two years I was unconscious for. I hadn’t realized when I’d fallen asleep but the sound of the door opening and closing had woken me up. It was my mother and sister. I sat up, “Oh my God Y/N!” my mother rushed towards me, hugging me so hard that my ribs hurt. She was crying, “Mom I’m fine. I’m okay. Calm down before my BP gets disturbed!” I joked, rubbing her back reassuringly. She moved back, holding my face in her hands, watching me intently, “you’re okay right? You are fine?” She was still worried. “I am fine mom. Seriously, I’m okay!” I repeated. My sister, Marie had just been standing near the door, crying silently. “C’mere!” I called her opening my arms for her and she walked right into them. Holding my hand she kissed it and then smacked my shoulder, “Ow!” I exclaimed. “This is for being a fucking drama queen! Waving in between life and death like that…” she sniffled, “I mean either fucking die or come back! Worrying us like that…” I smiled, knowing her so danm well, she was trying to hide her worry. I had always been closer to my sister than my mother. After my father’s death Mom had changed, a lot. She would say and do stuff she never meant, but it had started hurting and damaging me emotionally. My sister had noticed and taken over the role of my mother as well. But she wasn’t good with showing emotions. “I had to come back. Who would be the third wheel on your dates with Ashton huh?” I nudged her shoulder. She suddenly looked at mother, trying not to look at my eyes. “What?” I looked between them. “We got married last year.” She muttered looking down. My mouth opened and closed. What was I supposed to say to that? We both had been so close, had dreamed of each other’s big days almost all of our lives. She was older so we’d both known she would get married first. “Wow”, it had hurt. “I am so sor… I… I just… we didn’t know if…” I completed her words, “… If I’d make it. Right?” I looked down, mostly because I didn’t want her to see the tears in my eyes. “I am sorry Y/N. I wish I would have waited. Ashton’s mother had gotten sick and she had started all this drama…” I put a hand on her shoulder, “It’s okay. It’s fine. You have the video right?” she nodded enthusiastically, “Great! We’ll watch it first thing after I get out of here.” And with that I hugged her rocking her side to side. “Besides, I’m still single so we still have time to attend mine together right!?” I’d laughed. Marie got back, watching my face with confusion and then looking at Mom with the same look too. “What?” they both exchanged a look I couldn’t place and then laughed. ‘They are being so weird’ I thought. Abruptly they both stood up, “I think we should go and talk to the Doctor. Ask when you can leave yeah?” They nodded at me and then nodded at each other before hurriedly leaving the room.

“Hi” he breathed, taking a step inside. “Hi” I answered grinning like an idiot and adjusting my sheet over my chest, ‘Get a grip Y/N!’ I was about to ask who exactly was he looking for but before I could form the words he’d gingerly crossed the floor and clasped me in his arms hugging me, resting his chin on my shoulder. My hands stood awkwardly in the air not knowing what to do before he said, “I’ve missed you Mrs. Murphy, I’ve missed you so fucking much!”

Just after moments, the nurse had come with my lunch. It was chicken and vegetable soup with bread and apple juice. She advised to take it slow with the food as my body would take time to get used to solid food again, since it had been living on an IV for so long. I’d nodded and as soon as she’d left the room I’d attacked the food. It felt like it was sent from heaven, I was starving. A spoonful had dropped on my gown as well but I didn’t care. I was hungry and there was food to be devoured. My mouth was full of bread dipped in soup when the door had opened. Gulping it down and wiping my mouth in a very unladylike manner, I watched as he entered. My mouth was on my lap, literally. No way, no fucking way. It was him. It was Cillian Fucking Murphy.

He was just standing there, with one hand still on the door handle. The lighting of the room perfectly shading his perfect cheeckbones and face. He was wearing a maroon-ish jumper with his hair ruffled and casual. Just the way he liked, I remembered from one of the articles I’d read online. Suddenly I became more than aware of my disarrayed hair and lack of cloths and regretted not eating with caution. I cursed inwardly, ‘This is the day God grants me my wish to meet this guy in flesh and here I am almost naked and filthy with soup on my gown’ I wanted the floor to swallow me up. Running my hands through my hair I thought about what I should do. This was the guy I had been dreaming about to meet one day, catch a glimpse of somewhere, or just get a signed autograph even. Every magazine his face had ever graced the cover of, was in my room, in plastic protective covers. And he was here! HE WAS HERE! Standing in front of me!!! Would asking for an autograph in a hospital be too rude? God, no! It would be inappropriate. I wonder who he’s come to see here. Maybe one of his parents or his wife? I made a mental note to ask for my phone as soon as my sister returned and check the social media. It had to be on there!

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic

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shot-by-cupid · 1 year

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Ok here's a thing

An Overwatch op goes sideways and Staci gets captured by the Deadlock Gang. She wakes up tired to a chair surrounded by the gang. Ashe walks in like the absolute boss she is, repeater on her shoulder, brimming with charisma and malice.

She starts the usual "What've we got here?" intimidating spiel, calling her demeaningly affectionate names, making thinly veiled threats, etc. Except after a while the gang notices she's not threatening or intimidating anymore, she's just paying Staci legit complements in a menacing tone.

Staci, meanwhile, has not been listening at all because she's just staring at this beautiful cowgirl. Mesmerized by her immaculately painted lips and piercing eyes.

The gang (plus Bob) stand there uncomfortably all the while.

"Caught" | Ashe

sorry this took so long to answer. I straight up just wrote an entire fic for this;; its been a looooong time since ive written anything so it might not be great lol

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Staci slowly awoke, her eyes struggling to stay open as they adjusted to the darkness.

She winced as she recognized the sharp pain of ropes digging into her wrists, accompanied by the pounding of a headache.

She stared into the darkness, making out the silhouette of a man.

“Hey, you! What-“

Before she could even get her question out the man barks back at her.

“Quiet you!”

He slammed his hand against the wall, silencing her in an instant.

Staci let out a quiet, shaky breath- knowing its best to keep her mouth shut in situations like this. She sits back in her chair and stares up at the ceiling, praying for some kind of backup.

They sat in silence for what seemed like ages until the quiet sound of a door creaking open cut through the static.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

The leader of the deadlock gang sauntered in with a large, intimidating omnic following not too far behind.

Ashe leaned in close, her hand resting on the back of the chair, her face inches away.

“What's a pretty little thing like you doin’ in a place like this?”

Despite her soft voice there was a venom to her words.

Staci's breath caught in her throat as her eyes trailed over the woman's sharp features. For once in her life the talkative girl found herself at a loss for words.

Ashe sighed impatiently as reached forward, her fingers squeezing Staci's cheeks roughly as she tilted her face up.

“What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

A shiver ran through Staci as Ashe spoke and she quickly snapped back to reality, clearing her throat before she spoke.

“W-what’s going on here?”

her voice cracks, her confidence wavering more and more each second as Ashe’s red eyes narrowed at her. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head at Staci.

“Why don’t you answer my question first, sugar.” Ashe chuckled softly as she let go of her cheeks, letting her head fall. “What are you doing here?”

Staci frowned as she looked down at the ground, her eyes ran over a large crack on her boot, exposing the broken machinery underneath. She sighed heavily, there really wasn’t a way out of this- especially not with damage like this done to her equipment.

Staci looked back up to Ashe, sucking in a sharp breath as she tried to put on a brave face.

“It was… a stakeout.”

Ashe groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I wish you people would just leave me alone.”

She looked back down to Staci, an amused expression on her face as she knelt down in front of her.

“So, where’s the rest of your team then? Ain’t no way you came here all alone.”

Staci froze for a moment, the sudden realization that she was alone finally hit her.

“I…” She bit down on her lip, her brow furrowing as her voice got quiet. “I don’t know…”

“You can’t be serious.” Ashe laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re team just up and left when things went south? And y’all call yourself heroes?”

She laughed a bit harder, her hand gently resting on Staci’s thigh. In a weird way, the touch provided comfort to the little space cadet.

Ashe sighed softly as her other hand moved to tilt Staci's chin up.

“What a shame. Only a fool would ditch a pretty thing like you…”

Staci's breath hitched, heat rising in her cheeks as the cowgirl's words hit her ears. She couldn’t tell if she was being toyed with.

An awkward tension was rising in the room, the man who was still leaning against the wall shuffled uncomfortably.

There was an odd silence as the two continued to look at each other, unsure of what either of their next moves would be.

Staci opened her mouth to speak but found that no words could come out. Her eyes met with Ashe’s, there was something almost soft about them, a sincerity that shone within them.

A sudden voice cut through the static, pulling the two away from each other as Ashe stood abruptly.

Another member of the gang walked in, holding a small box filled with equipment and setting it down on a nearby table.

“Here, Boss.”

They spoke hesitantly, sensing that they walked in on something.

“Good work.” Ashe cleared her throat. She scratched the back of her neck as she walked over to examine the items, letting out a whistle as she picked up a familiar headset. Staci huffed softly as she watched Ashe handle her equipment, only realizing now that she wasn’t wearing them.

“Impressive work… you make these yourself?” Ashe held up the headpiece, clicking the button on the side that activated the visor. Her smile widens as it lights up.

Staci scoffed, frustrated by Ashe touching her stuff.

“Maybe.”

The anger in her voice caught Ashe’s attention. She cocks her head to the side, smirking as she tosses the headset back into the table.

“Well I’ll be… we could get a pretty penny for junk like this.” She crosses her arms as she leans against the table.

“Yeah. I bet you could.” Staci glares at Ashe, struggling against her ropes.

“Woah there. No need to get angry, sweet pea…” she laughs softly as she picks the headset back up. She kneels back down in front of her, placing it on her head carefully.

“That better? Looks good on you.”

Staci’s expression softened, shifting to one of confusion rather than anger.

“Thank… you?”

Ashe laughed, tipping her hat at Staci. “Any time.”

The man leaning against the wall cleared his throat, getting Ashe’ attention. She took her eyes off Staci, glaring daggers at him.

“Uhm, boss?’ he stepped forward, gesturing towards the two of them. “I don't think this is exactly-”

“Can it, Zeke.” She hissed at him. She stood up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You know what, why don’t you all head outta’ here.”

The large omnic looked over to her, tilting his head. She sighed, giving his arm a firm pat.

“That includes you, B.O.B.”

She ushered the three other gang members out the door, shutting it quickly behind them and locking it. She sighs softly as she looks back over to Staci.

She grins playfully, taking her hat off and holding it over her chest.

“Now… I believe we were in the middle of something?”

#selfship #self shipping #self ship fanfiction #self insert x canon #self insert fanfiction #elizabeth caledonia calamity ashe #romantic f/o #f/o community #wlw selfship #♡.written in the stars #♡.mail box

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milkweedman · 2 years

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hi, I recently came into the ownership of what I think is a castle-shape spinning wheel, and it seems to be in working order, I think, but I can't for the life of me seem to get the wool to actually spin *onto* the spindle. I was wondering if you had any resources to point my way about spinning wheels, preferably a castle one (that's where google pointed me at least)? I can't find anything in google and I'm heading to my local library soon but I thought I would ask since you seem very knowledgeable about spinning things. If not, I hope I'm not a bother! I greatly enjoy seeing your spinning content and it's been motivating to try and get my own situation sorted out so I can try it out :)

That's pretty much the most common issue for new spinners to have, regardless of wheel style, and I had the same problem too when I got my wheel, which was caused by me adding twist too quickly with too low a take up, so the yarn just crumpled in my hands instead of winding on. I'm not sure what exactly the issue with yours is, or what you've tried, but maybe these links will be of help ?

If you've already come across these (which is likely) and it's still not winding on, I'd recommend looking for some castle wheel videos and try to compare what theyre doing to what youre doing, and the way that your wheel is set up to theirs (your flyer or bobbin might not be on right, your drive band may be too loose, etc).

There is of course a chance that something is wrong with your wheel, but it's much more likely that you just havent totally figured it out yet, and continuing to try and varying/adjusting what youre doing will get it working right eventually.

If absolutely nothing is working after days of attempts, my next suggestion (which may not be feasible) would be to look for a local spinning guild, a wool/yarn shop, or a spinning club that you can take your wheel to and ask other spinners to help with--if its technique theyll be happy to help, if its broken they might be able to jerry rig a fix (my footman will fall off as is, but i put a hair tie around it and havent had a problem since--so fixing your wheel might be very quick and cheap or free, if it is indeed broken).

If none of that is an option, i'd probably go on ravelry and try to see if there are any wheel spinners in your area who you could meet up with. Or if thats a bust, you may be able to troubleshoot via video call, even (hell, if our timezones arent crazy i'll volunteer, but im sure youd also get volunteers on reddit or ravelry--we spinners like making more spinners, so we tend to be a helpful bunch !).

I hope you can get it working soon and start making yarns ! And if anyone has any castle wheel specific help, please comment--ive never used one (and google isnt showing me much for castle wheels specifically)

#good luck ! i cant stress enough how normal it is to be having this problem and everyone figures it out eventually #spinning #spinning wheel

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okthatsgreat · 1 year

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ok the new chapter has been released and i can contain myself no longer. ive been going crazy over miu. i hope you know that. something i have been evercurious about is ur exact thoughts on miu's patterns of self destruction & idolization and devaluation of herself and those around her. what are ur thoughts on that. how do u think she's coping with her situation getting worse, and her isolation from probably some of the first connections she's had (we see this in her & makoto's chapters already but it's always interesting to get psychoanalysis from within a work and from it's creator i think!!)

YEA!! YEEEAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <33333333

talking about THIS FIC!

OKAY alright so opddmh miu....... godd. when i was originally planning on what i wanted to do with miu the first thing i thought of was what happened immediately after she woke up. dying because of a failed murder plot would definitely affect a person quite a bit LMFAO. like not only would that make her even more paranoid of the classmates she has been confined alongside with but it would also reasonably knock down her confidence by an absolute ton. suddenly the lack of connections she's made with her classmates is made EXTREMELY clear as she's woken up, and it's difficult to suddenly start trying to be friends with them considering what she attempted to do in the simulator and also the fact that she is scared of the majority of them. there is a reason she ran off on her own, after all. this is a miu who is processing trauma and GUILT of an unimaginable caliber, and who is doing it on her own. i thought it was really important that was highlighted-- at the beginning of this fic, she is alone. so there are very few people to look towards in terms of self adjustment.

but at the same time, she DOES want to change, whether thats out of genuine guilt, or shame that her behaviour was televised nationwide. its why she has unconsciously started to look for some sort of moral compass. ive made a few references to her having conversations with kaede (all of these conversations seem to involve kaede telling miu off/telling miu she needs to be better) that have already shaped a lot of mius mindset-- i wanted there to be some sort of showcase of miu attempting to look for some sort of role model even if she doesn't know it/admit it. kaede is somebody she sees as a "good person", so her opinion inherently matters a lot more to her than the opinion of somebody she thinks isn't "good". after she runs off, this mentality shifts to the first person who is able to prove themselves as an upstanding citizen: makoto. miu doesnt fully TRUST him just yet, but she knows that he is a good person based on his actions and also what other people (byakuya) have told her. its not only paranoia about her safety that leads her to ask byakuya all of those questions about makoto, its also a way to gauge just the type of person makoto is.

its also another reason why she compares herself to makoto during her conversations with byakuya. mius confidence has taken a huge beating after the killing game, and i wanted her insecurities about that to be shown throughout her stay at makotos. she doesnt think she DESERVES to be there. miu is still a selfish and self-preserving person, so she is going to grab for any opportunity she can to keep herself safe (she only went with makoto because he had convinced her it would be safer than the smile motel, not because she could trust him). but this doesn't mean she doesn't second guess makotos intentions or her own self worth. miu has this crippling inability to form bonds because she just can not trust that people arent going to leave her lol. she tries to pay makoto back any way she can so that he sees value in her that she can not see in herself, ESPECIALLY now that she is no longer the "genius inventor" that danganronpa made her out to be. miu as a character has always had insecurities about the validities of her own talent and self worth, but now that its been proven fake, she finds it incredibly hard to believe that she brings any sort of value into the naegi household. which, in her mind, makes it so much easier for makoto to want to kick her out. it's this paranoid mess of needing to be safe and wanting to prove herself. she can't believe somebody would want to help her out if shes done nothing for them, because she herself would hardly think to do that if it meant endangering her own life, so it becomes this desperate need to keep herself in line. she wants to be a good person but she can't stand the thought of being hurt again, and a lot of her internal conflict is about the guilt that comes along with that.

anyways tldr miu iruma in opddmh is alone, frightened, and paranoid, and her actions in the simulator have caused her to unconsciously reach for a moral compass to idolise. she wants to be a good person but she also desperately wants to stay safe, because in her eyes it is difficult to imagine a future where these people dont choose to leave her 😃👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

IM SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE I JUST SORTA VOMITED WORDS LOL!!! <3

#opddmh #ask lee #kozuelovemail #KOZUELOVEMAIL ILY!! <33 #im sorry if none of this makes sense lmfao

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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 years

Text

Marvin’s Magnificent Mishaps

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

So fun fact, there are sections in this part that were supposed to go in the last part. But because of how insanely long that got, they had to be moved over here as flashbacks. Marvin’s in the hospital after that whole ordeal. He’s messed up. And said flashbacks will show just how and why. Meanwhile, everyone tries to get things in order after what happened in the house on Aspen Street. Enjoy ^-^

More of this AU found here

He was awake, but he didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he tried to figure out what was going on through his other senses first. He was lying in a bed. He was lying in a bed, and everything hurt. Some places more than others. Light leaked through his eyelids. The room was silent. Until he moved his arm just a little bit, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Jesus fucking christ,” A voice muttered. He heard something creak, and then someone grabbed his arm, moving it back to where it was before. “You know, I get why they did that, but doesn’t mean I have to like how fucking loud it is. God.”

There could be no mistaking that voice. “Someone’s grumpy,” he mumbled, finally opening his eyes.

“Marvin!” Anti, leaning over him, suddenly jerked backwards. “You’re awake!”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin blinked. He was light-headed, in pain, and could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, but he was awake, so that was probably good. “Wha’...Where...?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Anti explained, sitting down in a chair nearby. “Westpoint. The usual one.”

Marvin looked around the room. Yep, this was a hospital room alright. He was very familiar with them by this point. His head was tilted to the left, staring at a cluster of chairs and a window that showed a dark sky outside. He probably should have been concerned with more immediate matters, but absurdly, his first thought looking around was that Westpoint must have had an increase in budget, because the chairs looked nicer than usual. He almost laughed at that. Then he turned his head over to look at the other half of the room, and any laughter immediately died. “Jem—!” He started to sit up, but his head spun and he fell back down.

“Whoa, hey, be careful!” Anti half-reached out, but stopped. “Uh, yeah. H-he kind of fainted and started bleeding after we got out of there. Stacy and I thought the doctors should check him out.”

There were two beds in the hospital room. Marvin was lying in one, and Jameson was lying in the one to his right, eyes closed and pale. “Jems,” Marvin mumbled, and tried to adjust his position to get a better look at him.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Anti shouted. He glared at some sort of device by Marvin’s bed. “We’re trying to have a serious talk here!” Then he looked back at Marvin. “Hey, try not to move your left arm so much. Every time you do, the IV moves, and that machine freaks out.”

“Hmm.” Marvin looked down at his arm—bare, as the hospital staff had changed him into a gown. He thought there was a weird sensation in the crook of his elbow. Turns out, there was a needle there, held in place with white medical tape. A clear tube led to a bag. “Why...?”

“For the blood loss, I think,” Anti explained. “You lost like...two liters of blood.”

“Tha’ doesn’ sound righ’.”

“Okay, it was probably less, but you get my point. It was a lot.” Anti paused. “You...you really...H-he did a number on you.” He didn’t look at Marvin as he said this.

“Wha...wha’s the day?” Marvin asked, putting his arm back down and stopping the beeping machine.

“Uhhh, it’s...well, technically, it’s February 6th, because it’s past midnight.” Anti glanced at a clock in the wall, and Marvin followed his gaze. Three in the morning. “We got you here at around five-ish on the 5th.”

So not that much time had passed. Even though it felt like forever, trapped in that—that box. Marvin’s breath hitched, and he quickly asked about something else. “Wha’ happened t’Jems?”

“He used too much magic,” Anti said. “I mean, it’s a good thing he used all that magic, pretty sure we’d still be fucking trapped there if he hadn’t. But, uh, yeah. He just fell over. The doctors say he’s fine, though they’re confused as fuck about what caused it. But anyway. He should wake up soon.”

“...good.” Marvin looked up towards the ceiling and went quiet. He became aware of his breathing, and started counting every inhale and exhale. One...two...three...

He got to ten breaths before Anti coughed, drawing his attention back to him. “Marvin, I...” He trailed off, visibly struggling with whatever he was trying to say. “I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know if you know this, if you figured it out, but I—I-I was the reason you ended up there. Distorter used me, a-and it’s all because when the kids got taken I had to—”

“I know.”

Anti blinked. “Oh. You do?”

“He told me,” Marvin said quietly. “He wanted me to know.”

“...oh.” Anti sat down heavily in one of the nearby chairs. He looked down at his hands, fingers intertwining and pulling on each other. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“Yeah.”

Anti nodded. “Well, uh...I’ll just go, then.”

“No.” Marvin reached towards him, starting up the BEEP of the machine again. He quickly put his arm back down, but kept his wide eyes on Anti. “Please don’.”

Anti had started to stand up, but stopped halfway. “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Marvin nodded. “Jus’...at least ‘til Jems wakes up.”

“...okay.” Anti sat back down again. “I guess I don’t really have anywhere to be,” he muttered. “Called Rama and told them to let Will stay over for the night, so that’s fine. Stacy wanted to be on her own. She’ll probably be here tomorrow. Don’t have any videos to do. Might as well.”

Others may have found the ‘I don’t have anything better to do’ spiel insulting, but by now, Marvin had figured out that Anti was hiding how much he really wanted to stay. He let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. It felt better, knowing he wouldn’t be alone.

But everything still hurt.

———————

It tasted like iron.

He couldn’t escape the taste of it. The white sleeves of his shirt were streaked with red from his previous attempts to wipe it away, but it just kept coming. He could barely see through it. When he tried to open his mouth to speak, it was filled with that taste. This wasn’t normal. There wasn’t usually this much. It was supposed to be two thin streams, not a pair of crimson rivers.

Knock knock knock. The sound came from above. He looked up and saw him. While he was busy trying to wipe the blood from his face and eyes, Distorter had climbed down into the box. Or had he been standing there the whole time? Either way, Distorter was here now, right in the center of the five-by-five box, smiling down at him. That smile widened, and he knocked on the ceiling of the box again, slower. Knock. Knock. Knock. “This kind of sucks doesn’t it?” he said casually. “I can’t even stand up. Can you?” He laughed. “Oh who am I kidding? We know the answer to that.”

“Shut—” Marvin started to speak, but choked instead as warm, thick blood dripped into his mouth and down his throat. Frantically, he tried to wipe it away again, bending over on hands and knees.

“Oh? Looks like we have company,” Distorter’s voice said. And when Marvin looked up, he was gone.

He tried to stand, but lost his footing and fell, hitting the side of his head on the wooden box wall. For a moment, he just sat there, breathing heavily against the weight in the air that was everywhere in this place.

“Marvin?” A voice said. Then a face appeared in the trapdoor above. “Marvin!” The voice said again. His vision was covered by blood for a moment, and suddenly, there was someone else in the box, bent over by the low ceiling. “Are you okay?” Jackie asked. “Gah, stupid question. We’re here to get you out!”

Marvin stared at him. He...he wanted to believe him. But...he couldn’t. “Wh...what’re yeh doin’ h’re?”

“I said we’re here to get you out.” Jackie crouched low to the ground, inching closer to where Marvin was sitting in the corner. “Oh shit, that looks bad. There’s not normally that much blood.”

“Nn, I...I know what yeh said.” Marvin backed farther into the corner. “Wh-why...why izzit you? Yeh know...you know wha’it’s like. Yeh wouldn’ come back.”

Jackie shuddered. “I...I don’t want to be here,” he said, his voice strangled. “But like you said, I know what it’s like. I had to help the others. I...I had to help you. I couldn’t leave you.” He raised a hand, slowly. “Here. Let me look at that.”

Marvin stared at him, blood flowing from his eyes with every blink. Would Jackie do that? Come back here after everything he went through? Maybe. Marvin still doubted it, but...there was such concern in Jackie’s eyes. Such care and worry. That had to be real, didn’t it? Slowly, Marvin leaned forward again. Jackie reached out with one hand and touched his cheek. Marvin flinched, but didn’t pull back, and that encouraged Jackie to cup Marvin’s face in both hands. After a second, he began to relax a little. It was Jackie. It was really him.

And then the hands tightened their grip. “I’m glad we could have this moment of trust.”

“Nnh—!” Marvin instinctively jerked his head backwards, but he couldn’t pull away from the hands—the blackened hands—holding his head. Nails dug into his skin. He grabbed Distorter’s wrists and tried to pull them away, but he couldn’t. Distorter’s grip was too strong, and with the heavy weight in the air pressing him down, he was too weak.

“Shhh. You’re just ruining it.” Distorter leaned closer. Marvin’s eyes darted around, trying to look anywhere except at that grinning face. There was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to go. His breathing quickened with panic. “Aw. You’re nervous. Don’t worry, I get it. It’s hard to be vulnerable. Why don’t you close your eyes and take a deep breath?”

Marvin tried to shake his head, but Distorter held it in place. Blood fell from his eyes, and he tasted iron as it stained his lips.

“I said close your eyes.” Distorter’s hands shifted, and his thumbs closed Marvin’s eyelids. They stayed in place, pressing against his eyes. “And take a deep breath.”

He couldn’t. If anything, his breath was speeding up into hyperventilation. He tried again to pull Distorter’s hands away, but they didn’t move an inch.

He heard Distorter sigh. And then suddenly he pulled Marvin’s head forward and slammed it back hard against the box wall. Marvin cried out, and Distorter did it three more times in quick succession, until Marvin let go of his wrists and went limp. He slumped against the wall, stunned, for a few seconds, breathing slowly. And then Distorter abruptly let go of his head. “There. See? Don’t you feel better?”

Marvin blinked, squinting through the blood still coming from his eyes. Not that there was much to see. Just Distorter’s black eyes and satisfied smile.

———————

Marvin’s eyes flew open, heart pounding in his chest, sweat making his hair damp. He stared up at the tiles on the hospital room ceiling. Some of the overhead lights had been turned off. Not all of them. But enough to make the room much dimmer. He looked to the left and saw Anti was still there. He was sitting in one of the new, nice hospital chairs. This one could recline. And Anti had apparently taken advantage of that, as he had leaned back and fallen asleep.

Then he turned his head the other way, and gasped. “Jems.”

Jameson was awake. His hospital bed had been propped into a sitting position. He looked over at Marvin and smiled, waving a small Hello.

“Are...’re you alrigh’?” Marvin asked.

I think I should be the one to say that, Jameson said. Are YOU alright?

Marvin squeezed his eyes shut. They were aching. A few tears leaked out, and for a brief second he expected to taste iron. He opened his eyes again. “No,” he said quietly.

Jameson stared at him sadly. I’m sorry about that, he said. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.

“I t’ink he would’ve found a way event’ally,” Marvin mumbled. “Unless I stayed in the house all the time. A-and I...I won’ do t’at.”

I’m still sorry, Jameson said.

“T’s not your fault.” Marvin tried for a weak smile. “Besides, ye got me out of t’ere, huh? Anti said you used all your magic.”

I did. Jameson nodded. That house...it’s not a normal house anymore. It’s like its own world. It amplified my magic, but even with that, I may have overspent a bit.

“So...are ye alrigh’?”

Jameson smiled a little. I’m exhausted. Feel like shit, honestly.

Marvin let out a single laugh. “Don’ hear you say t’at often.”

Well, this really warrants it.

“Feel like shit, too,” Marvin mumbled.

Jameson’s expression turned serious. What did he do to you?

“A...a lot of t’ings,” Marvin said quietly. “I should’ve asked Anti what the doctors said. Maybe I’ll do t’at when he wakes up.”

...Why? Jameson said, turning and staring off into the distance. Why would he do that to you? Doesn’t he think of you as his “friend”?

“Friendship is twisted for him. It jus’ means he won’ kill you. It jus’ means he’d rather have you do wha’ever he wants.” Marvin swallowed. His throat felt dry. “I t’ink...I-I t’ink he was...hurt. At some point. So, in his logic, if you’re his friend...you have to hurt too.”

Jameson didn’t reply for a while. Then: I’m sorry. He didn’t look right at Marvin when he signed. I know you probably don’t want to hear it for a fourth time, but I have to say it.

“Not your fault,” Marvin repeated. “Don’t be sorry. I-I know...I know ye prob’ly feel guilty. I don’ know how to help you stop feelin’ t’at. But you did ev’ryt’ing you coul’. You and Anti. T’ere’s guilt enough between the two of ye. I don’ blame either one.” He smiled softly. “T’ank you. For gettin’ me out.”

And again, Jameson didn’t reply. He blinked, and Marvin could see the faint glimmer of tears in the dim light. We’d do it again. Every time.

“I know. And t’ank you.” Marvin looked back up at the ceiling. His eyes drifted closed once more. At least Jameson was okay. That was a small consolation.

———————

“You’re an actor, right?”

Marvin didn’t answer the question. Partly because he didn’t want to give Distorter the respect of an answer, partly because his head was swimming. The walls of the box seemed to flex slightly. They bent inward, and his breath hitched. They bent outward, and he sighed. He knew it was just a trick of his vision, but he didn’t like the idea of this already small box getting even smaller.

“Wow. Okay, don’t say anything then. Rude.” Even though Distorter was sitting with his back pressed against the opposite wall, he was much too close. “Anyway. If you’re an actor, then how come you haven’t been in a single play or movie since you got here? Or, rather...now?”

“Shuddup,” Marvin mumbled.

“Aww. Jeez, Marvin, I only want to help you out.” Distorter’s grin widened as he leaned forward. Marvin instinctively tried to back up, but of course, couldn’t go anywhere. “We should put on a play right now! Wouldn’t that be fun? Come on, let’s do it!” He crawled forward. Marvin scrambled to the side, but it was only a couple seconds before he was cornered and Distorter was leaning over him. “Get up and get ready!”

Marvin whimpered. Distorter grabbed his shirt and pulled him off the ground. He lashed out, clawing at Distorter’s blackened flesh and kicking his legs. But his movements were weak. How long had he been stuck here? How long had that weight in the air been pressing down on him? It felt like he was trying to push through water.

“Don’t be like that. Look outside!” Distorter pulled him upright—or as upright as he could in this box—and held him in place by wrapping an arm around his torso. He grabbed Marvin by the hair and pushed his head to look through the clear plastic window of the box. Outside, there were...faces. Rows of faces. An audience. He could hear the faint murmur of audience chatter from backstage.

Backstage? There was no backstage. This was a box. And that audience couldn’t possibly be real. Yet he could feel their gaze. He saw familiar faces in the first row. The friends he’d come to know—Jameson, Anti, Jackie, Schneep—but also ones he’d left behind. He could see his grandmother. She’d died in 1921. But there she was. Staring at him. Waiting with all the rest.

“Well you can’t perform in this condition.” Distorter let go of Marvin’s hair, and his head instantly dropped. “But we can’t let them down! Good thing I have a plan.” He shifted position a bit, grabbing Marvin’s arm. Marvin didn’t think much of it until he felt something tighten around his wrist. He glanced over and saw...

String. Thick white string, like yarn used for knitting. Distorter tied it tight around his wrist, then dropped Marvin’s arm and grabbed his other one. Marvin tried to pull away, but Distorter’s grip was too tight. A second string was tied around his other wrist, too.

“There,” Distorter said happily. And he abruptly dropped Marvin. He fell to the floor at the unexpected lack of support, crying out but finding more blood from his eyes got into his mouth and choked him. He took a moment to try and wipe it all away again, and when he looked up again, Distorter had disappeared from the box. But the strings that he’d tied around his wrists remained. Not on the floor. But instead, they went up, up, up, through the trapdoor in the ceiling. Distorter’s face appeared there, and he waved a blackened hand. “On the count of three. One, two—”

Marvin yelped as the strings were pulled, yanking his arms backwards and upwards. But it didn’t stop there. They kept pulling, forcing his joints to cry out, until eventually Marvin was lifted off the floor. He stared out through the box’s plastic window and saw that audience of familiar faces again. He heard them applaud. The strings were digging into his wrists. A bit of warm liquid dripped down his arm, and he looked up to see blood coming from a cut the string had made as it dug into his skin. His feet scrambled on the ground, trying to find purchase in this awkward position where he couldn’t fully stand due to the low box ceiling, but couldn’t quite kneel because of the strings pulling upwards.

“It’s your cue!” Distorter said, voice filled with glee. “Put on a good show for everyone, hmm?”

———————

“He’s still asleep. Can you come back later?”

“Can you come back later? The nurse told me you slept here.”

“Well, he asked me to stay.”

Marvin opened his eyes immediately and looked around the room. It was the same hospital room. The window was bright now, showing a view of the next building over. He rolled over, facing towards the voices.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Holy fucking shit in a basket!” Anti shouted. He turned to glare at the sound, then stopped when he saw Marvin’s eyes open. “Oh. Oh! You’re awake.”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin tried to sit up, but found he couldn’t quite make it.

There’s a little remote for adjustment to the right, Jameson signed.

“T’anks,” Marvin mumbled, searching around for it with one hand while trying to readjust his other arm to stop the beeping. After a few seconds, he found the remote, and figured out how to get the hospital bed into a half-sitting position. Then he looked back at the others. Anti and Jameson were still here, of course, but now there was a new arrival. “Stacy. H’llo.”

“Hi.” Stacy waved awkwardly. “Are you, uh...I-I wanted to come in and talk to everyone, but if you just woke up, I can come back later. We all can.” She glanced at Anti. “I’m sure we have business to take care of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anti demanded.

“Nothing.”

Stacy, Anti was just telling me how he’d called Will and asked him if he was okay with staying at Rama’s for a bit longer, Jameson said. It seems he was alright with it. Apparently he and Michelle haven’t hung out in a while.

“Oh. Yeah, uh, good.” Stacy’s shoulders slumped with relief. Evidently, she had been worried about Anti’s son. “Well, still. I can come back.”

“No, no, you can stay,” Marvin hurried to say. “I...I want t’hear what happened when ye all came to the house.”

The other three exchanged looks. Then Stacy and Anti sat down in two of the hospital chairs. Stacy took a deep breath. “Okay. You two start.”

Marvin listened to Anti and Jameson recount their experiences in the house on Aspen Street. Their discovery that Anti had taken Marvin away, their subsequent separation, Jameson figuring out how his powers were amplified and how to manipulate the house’s repeating, reflecting rooms, and how they used that to find Marvin. Anti was vague about his experience, not saying much other than how he got stuck in an endless stairwell and heard familiar voices. But the others didn’t press.

What about you, Stacy? Jameson asked. Anything unusual happen while we were on our own?

“Yes, actually,” Stacy said quietly. She hesitated, then blurted out, “I heard my sister and the kids.”

“Hmm?” Anti perked up. “The first victims,” he said, trying to put on a spooky voice. It would have worked, if his facial expression had been sinister and not intrigued.

“They were...the voices, I mean...th-they were coming from the walls,” Stacy continued. “And when I really started to pay attention, I heard all sorts of voices in the walls. Ones I didn’t recognize at all. I think...they were past victims.” She took a deep breath. “Roxy and the kids said they were in the basement. Which, well...accurate, from what they told me about the case. So I went downstairs. No eternal staircase for me, I just went right down. And I...I saw him.”

Distorter? JJ asked, eyes wide. Did he say anything?

“No. He was trying to avoid me, I think. But I-I managed to corner him. I talked to him...and...I said his name.” Stacy whispered the last part. The others almost missed it.

“Wait. You mean—his name name?!” Anti gasped, catching on first. “Like, from before the Distorter times?” Stacy nodded. “How the fuck did you do that?! We weren’t ever able to say his name before! Even when we were trying to read it off the fucking police records!”

“I don’t know what happened!” Stacy half-shouted, sounding somewhat panicked. She shook her head. “I can’t even remember what I said anymore, but I know it was definitely his name from before. And he turned around to look at me, and his eyes weren’t that all-black thing, they were gray—”

“Gray like...like with irises?” Marvin asked.

“Yes, gray irises. A-and I realized that felt wrong, because his eyes were blue. His eyes were blue. I-I remember that his eyes were blue now.” Stacy had grabbed the fabric of her jacket at one point, lifting it away from her body, and started squeezing it tightly. “They were blue, but they were gray when I saw him.”

“Blue eyes,” Anti muttered. “Well. I guess that’s one detail in the soup of whatever his features are.”

I wonder if being in that place helped you remember, JJ speculates. None of us knew him before. But you did. And being in the house somehow let you see through this forgetting magic he has and remember his name and his eyes.

“Why were they gray, though?” Stacy asked. “Why did I see gray, but remember them as blue?”

“Lighting?” Anti suggested.

“No, it wasn’t that.” Stacy breathed in shakily. “It feels important. That the color was different.”

Maybe we won’t figure it out until later, Jameson says. But now? I think I know why Distorter flees whenever he sees you. Because you can remember.

“I only remembered while in the house, though,” Stacy reminded him.

Well, maybe there was always a chance that you would remember while you saw him. You said you cornered him, right? Before that, I don’t think you ever saw him for more than a few seconds.

“He doesn’ want to be remembered,” Marvin said quietly. He laughed. “Of course. Of course he doesn’. I—I don’ t’ink he’s ever said as much, but it...fits. Somehow.”

Stacy frowned. “Why would someone not want to be remembered? That feels weird.”

Marvin shook his head. “I don’ know. But it jus’ seems right.” He looked at the other two. Jameson was nodding slowly, his mind clearly working to fit all the pieces together. But Anti...Anti was looking down at his hands. He kept fidgeting with his fingers. Marvin couldn’t quite place the expression on his face. Solemn? Thoughtful? Something else?

Maybe if someone remembers him, he’ll lose his powers, JJ said.

“Really?” Stacy asked. “How does that work?”

I don’t know, it’s just a blind guess. JJ shrugged. But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Anti, you copied the police records Henrik got about the Aspen Street case, right? Do you know where they are?

“Huh?” Anti looked up. “What?”

“He made a couple copies,” Marvin remembered. “I t’ink we all got one. You and me did, I know t’at, and Schneep and Jackie—” He stopped. “Where is Jackie, by th’way? He...I don’ remember him t’ere. When you guys showed up in the house.”

The others were quiet. Anti and Jameson glanced at each other. We...don’t know where Jackie is, Jameson said slowly.

“Rama said he showed up at their house last night,” Anti said. “They said he seemed calm, but she could tell something was wrong. He...he told them that he loved them, gave Michelle a present, and...said goodbye. They haven’t heard from him since then.” He shook his head. “I-I don’t like that. It all sounds...final. And that gives me a bad feeling.”

“What...?” Marvin’s voice broke. “What—did anything happen to Jackie?”

He freaked out when we realized Distorter took you, Jameson explained. Said a lot about how we didn’t understand what being in the house was like, and how we couldn’t protect ourselves, and then...said he was going to fix it. And left.

Marvin felt his stomach drop. He bolted from his half-sitting position on the bed into an upright one. But he moved too fast. He gasped as black spots appeared in his vision, then consumed it. When he hit the pillow again, he was already out.

———————

The applause was deafening. He knew it wasn’t real, that it was just some auditory illusion Distorter was causing, but the sound still thundered against his ears. Accompanied by laughter. They were all laughing. He couldn’t always see clearly through the blood coming from his eyes, but when his vision cleared, he saw their laughing faces.

“Look at that! They love you!” Distorter said, laughing as well.

Marvin wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and block out the sounds of the false audience. But he couldn’t. His whole body was limp, and it felt like even breathing was a struggle. He would have fallen to the ground a long time ago if it wasn’t for the strings holding him up.

“I said look at that.” Distorter’s voice was low and threatening. Marvin fought to raise his head to fully look out the box’s window at the rows of smiling faces. “Great. Now time for the grand finale.”

He couldn’t ask what that meant. His arms jerked upwards as Distorter pulled on the strings. Then he must have secured them somehow, because Distorter dropped into the box through the trapdoor, landing right next to Marvin and making him flinch. He was holding something. It took Marvin a while to recognize it, though it was familiar. His cane. The one that he’d left behind the first time Distorter tried to grab him. How long ago was that? It had been over a week when he’d been taken, but how long had Distorter kept him here?

“There’s not a lot of space in here, but I think there’s enough,” Distorter said. “Let me just test it out...” He held up the cane by one end and stretched, pointing it towards the wooden box wall. And despite how small the box was, despite how there shouldn’t have been enough room, he managed to fully extend his arm without the end of the cane even brushing against the wall. Marvin blinked. His head was spinning. That...didn’t make sense.

But there wasn’t enough time to think about it.

“Yeah! That’s what I thought!” Distorter’s grin widened. “And now—”

Marvin cried out as the wood of the cane hit him in the ribs. But he didn’t have enough time to recover before Distorter swung it again, hitting his other side. The laughter and applause of the false audience grew louder as Distorter swung faster and faster. He tried to pull back, to get away. But he couldn’t. All he could do was endure blow after blow, until the individual impacts blurred together into one steady stream of pain.

Then—

CRACK!

It felt like nothing at first. The sound was more confusing than anything. And then Marvin screamed as his leg erupted in agony.

“Ohhhh that sounded bad.” Distorter took a step backwards. “But hey, at least that was a good finale! Take a bow.” He reached up and seemed to grab something, and Marvin suddenly fell to the ground, yelping as the landing made his leg hurt more. He was sure there were tears mixed with the blood from his eyes now. “That was fun. Didn’t you have fun? Let’s do this again sometime. But I have to take care of some stuff first. I’ll be back.”

Marvin looked up, and saw that Distorter had disappeared. The false audience was gone, too, as he no longer heard their laughter. The box was back to being just a wooden box. He lowered his head to the ground. It landed in a puddle of red liquid, but he didn’t care. His hands were stretched out before him. He could see the strings around his wrists. They had gone from white to red, covered in blood. He should be worried about that, shouldn’t he? Losing blood wasn’t good. But he couldn’t keep that thought in his head for long. Not when his whole body—and especially his left leg—were aching, hurting.

He stayed there for what felt like ages, just breathing through the pain and the fog. Feeling like he was adrift in his own body. And then...he heard the faint sound of voices.

———————

“Marvin? Marvin!”

“Hhhwha...?” Marvin opened his eyes, blinking away the darkness. On his left was Anti, leaning close over him. On his right was Stacy, not as close but still hovering nearby and looking worried.

“Are you okay?” Anti asked.

“Uh...yea,” Marvin mumbled. “Wha’ jus’...?”

“You fainted,” Stacy explained. “You must’ve tried to sit up too fast.”

“Oh.” Marvin blinked some more. He turned his head, seeing Jameson still in the opposite bed, staring at him with a worried expression. “How long’ve I...?”

Just a few minutes, Jameson said. We were wondering if we should call the nurse soon.

“A few m’nutes? Huh.” Marvin raised his right hand to rub his eyes. He noticed the bandages around his wrist. “I want’d t’ask this sooner. What...did the doctor say? About...wha’s wrong with me.”

“Well...you lost a lot of blood,” Anti said slowly. “Bruises all over. Some deep cuts in your wrists. And, uh...” He hesitated. “Your leg is broken.”

Marvin went pale. He’d expected something like that, but hearing it was an entirely different thing.

“It’s not as bad as that!” Stacy hurried to say. “It’s a partial fracture. Not broken all the way through.”

“Right, yeah.” Anti nodded. “They said it was, uh...oblong.”

“Oblique,” Stacy corrected. “It means it’s diagonal across the bone and probably caused by an impact.”

Marvin looked at Jameson. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Jameson understood the wide-eyed, pleading expression on his face. They said it’ll be healed in six to eight weeks, Jameson said. And it will stop hurting after one or two.

“...I see,” Marvin said quietly. He let out a sigh. That was just...something he’d have to wait out. It would be fine. He was used to difficulties. It would be fine. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Still. He didn’t want to think about it right now. “Wha’ were we talkin’ about before?”

“Uh...Jackie,” Anti said.

“Righ’.” Marvin nodded. “Sounds like he didn’ react well to...the whole... kidnapping... t’ing.”

“He really didn’t,” Anti muttered. “It was a bit freaky. I-I’d never seen him act like that. And now we don’t know where he is. I—I can’t believe he just fucking left.”

Where would he even have gone? JJ wonders. He said he was going to ‘fix it.’ Where could he have gone to do that?

Marvin shook his head. “I don’ know if he had a destination in mind. He might’ve jus’...gone.”

For a moment, everyone was silent. “I can help you guys look, if you want,” Stacy offered. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I can.”

Anti looked at her for a long time. Long enough for her to get uncomfortable and start to back away. Jameson coughed. That would be lovely, Stacy, he said. Don’t push yourself, but we’d appreciate any help.

Stacy nodded. “Right. Yeah.” She backed away towards the hospital room door. “I’ll text you guys if you find anything. I mean, if I find anything. A-and you can text me if you—anyway. Goodbye, Marvin. I hope you get well soon.”

“G’bye,” Marvin mumbled, and watched as she left.

Why’d you stare at her like that, Anti? Jameson asked.

“I just—never fucking mind,” Anti muttered. “Hey, Jackson. The doc says that you can leave by this afternoon. Probably. They want to check you out one more time.”

JJ nodded. Understandable. And Marvin?

Anti glanced back at Marvin. “...probably a few more days.”

“T’at’s fine,” Marvin said. “I know I’m in...a bad shape.”

“Yeah.” Anti nodded.

Do you want to talk about it, Marvin? Jameson asked.

Marvin was ready to say no. He was ready to say they’d talk about it another time. But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. And he began to cry softly. “...yeah,” he said quietly. “A little.”

Jameson sat up straight. Anti walked over and dragged a chair over by Marvin’s bed.

They both listened to him talk for a while. Until, eventually, his energy failed him. He closed his eyes for a moment and started to drift off. He heard Anti say something in a soft voice. And he heard the creak of a hospital bed, and felt Jameson’s hand on his. Somehow, he knew they would both be there when he woke up again. And so he fell asleep peacefully. He had no dreams, and was relieved.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos au #marvin the magnificent #1920s marvin #chase brody #distorter #antisepticeye #programmer anti #jameson jackson #the jaunty jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau

11 notes · View notes

the-kipsabian · 1 year

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OKAY. SO YEAH. BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR UH, QUITE SOME TIME. PLS STOP ME IF I GO OFF THE RAILS THOUGH LOL

i guess i kinda went over it in my last fic, but i think when it comes to the belt and its curse, it's not gonna leave easy. like, no. not happening. losing isn't a "get out of being cursed free" card. it gave them fame, power, prestige. it tried to eliminate every possible distraction to ensure complete focus on retaining the title. if someone were to lose the title, there has to be repercussions.

so when one loses the title, i think at first, they need to appear okay. like back to normal, everything's fine, the belt's gone and they lower their guard enough to think that they can finally move on from this nightmare. but then after that false sense of freedom, that's when the real effects kick in. like the hallucinations, which i've been tying to their fears and reasons for wanting the belt. so like for oc, wanting to be taken seriously, afraid that maybe he just got lucky in his career and he is more of a joke, the orange punch failing him because of his arm injury etc. for kip, i know he's talked about that injury and other health issues being a dark time in his life, so incorporating this fear of never really recovering and wasting away, being outcasted for his "weirdness" in the company, wanting validation for his efforts in overcoming all of that.

and of course the more graphic ones where these events are perceived by oc and kip as someone else doing something to them, whether it's enemies, friends, or even themselves or something not even of this world. but from an outsider's perspective, it always looks like they're doing it to themselves (and i tried to be clear on this in my fic but they don't actually want to hurt themselves or anyone else. it's the damn curse of the belt doing this because if you're gonna lose it, it is going to make you suffer for as long as it can, even if that means destroying friendships/relationships).

and then the senses thing. i like to think that the belt sort of dulls things while holding it to make it easier to focus or fight through the pain, so without it, it just turns everything up to 11. sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, everything. it all just goes through the roof and makes even the buzzing of lights sound like a fireworks show. it was probably already enough of an adjustment to go back to normal those first few weeks, but it only gets worse instead of better.

i like to think after they acknowledge that this was the belt's doing and they're not crazy or sick or anything, the hallucinations die down as the message got through, but everything else just comes and goes and it's a matter of adapting to it. like kip says, time doesn't heal you. it changes you. and it's going to change them with how they interact with people, how they interact with each other now knowing what happened to them and that no one else gets it, getting back in the ring and whether they accept opportunities to go after gold again or not (like, could you imagine oc and the best friends getting a chance at the trios titles and oc being the only one hesitant because god. what could those belts do to him or his friends? life isn't the same anymore). it's just a journey to learn how to cope at this point. it's not going away. that belt will forever be around haunting them in one way or another, but they learn to live with it together, helping each other out to keep living as much as they can.

... yeah, this was really unhinged. i'm sorry lol

IM SO LATE TO THIS (and right now probably not in the best condition to reply to this but i finally remembered it existed cause theres so many things in my inbox OH GOD) BUT

first of all. absolutely yes to the normal period after losing the title before the real repercussions, cause ive been thinking about that too. there needs to be a false sense of normalcy for a while, as if its because the belt is gone - the adjust period, but its more or less framed under the sense of them just not being a champion anymore, and not actually the true meaning of losing the belt, which is being free from the curse and corruption. i really love the added layer of it directly targeting the corrupteds fears tho (especially through ones self, seeing the one doing the damage being someone they love), that is a really good touch and tbh im just gonna steal that one for the canon of this au now lol

YEAH YEAH YEAH THE SENSES THO!! ive always thought about the dulling pain part tbh, how it makes sure the host fights through everything no matter what, cause holding the belt is what keeps the curse alive and as the challenges get tougher and the champion more worn out, the stronger the curse needs to be and that means feeling less about the punishment you are going through. so it would absolutely make sense to have it be the opposite after its all gone, and especially during the adjust period that would just be. absolute hell. god yes i love this

also i had absolutely not thought about the part about how going after other belts afterwards would feel like oof. but that would be so true tho. for both of them, single and in teams, that would be such a hard task to undertake and i love the added drama of that tbh. even tho no other belt is cursed (as far as we are aware of? idk house of black is holding the trios titles rn and we know what happened with the elite before), thats such an interesting take to it and absolutely something both of them would think about really hard before going for the titles, or letting their friends go for them. absolutely love this one OOF

i wanted to touch the 'time doesnt heal it changes you' part last cause this is an important topic to me personally, but like. thats so true for this tho. how time wont heal their wounds, physical or mental, about this and what they had to go through, it WILL change them. and it does over the course of the time/story too, as they do both learn to cope with the aftermath of this, both together and separately. they do understand each other better now, they can hold each other up and survive on their own. but its a positive change, they cant stop to dwell on healing wounds that will always be there, but they can move on, learn how to change things. and thats just. thats just what this is about in the end, i think. i just hope they, too, realize this on the way

#..listen i have no idea what im talking about anymore right now its 50% of my brain power and 50% alcohol LOL #but yes to all of this tho youre SO RIGHT with this #and now i really need a scene in this story where we tear down the 'time doesnt heal it changes you' saying to its bare bones and UGH #god my feelings. this is so good GOD #is that a tag ive been using? i cant tell anymore lol. if its not i'll fix it at some point its fine #midnightpretenders0 #thank you for asking! <3 #belt corruption arc

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mydemonsdrivealimo · 2 years

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Please please please! Can’t fix what’s wrong and I don’t miss you at all! ❤️❤️❤️

im just gonna answer both of these together :)

i dont miss you at all is an unfortunate trip to see bryce's family. its a few years after book 3, so they're not on perfect terms (nor will they ever be) but its better than it has been before. this one has some pretty angsty moments, but ive tried to put some funny ones in there too :)

~~~

Bryce hauled two suitcases into the room while Jensen handled the various water bottles, toiletry bags, and backpack for everything else. Jensen gracelessly dumped it all onto the bed, giving Bryce an exhausted grin after he tucked the suitcases against the wall. Jensen received a glimmering smile in return.

“Is that everything?”

Bryce nodded and hummed against his neck, soaking up the sunscreen slicked over his skin. “You smell good.”

He smiled. “Is that why you keep taking my conditioner?” He got no answer other than a half-efforted shrug, and offered a laugh in return.

~~~

He was happy to seethe on his own time, chewing at the ends of his nails as he stared off at the lapping waves. His new shorts were in the dirty sand. His bracelet caught on the door and unraveled in his hand. Their movie night was going to run late. There was sand in his socks.

All this shit that didn’t really matter, that wouldn’t matter if it was on his own terms, was bubbling up in anger. He was so tired of dealing with it. Dealing with being pissed off at everything, dealing with their walk-in closets full of skeletons. He at least pretended he had his shit together, but they didn’t try even once.

Things were almost so good. So close to that happy point, it was fucking laughing in his face. It felt like a joke.

Maybe this whole thing was a joke. Visit the parents, meet the parents, family movie night. Those were meant for Hallmark, and the truth of it was he was dealing with life and death every day. Hallmark doesn’t have mortality, only stupid people with their stupid Christmas decorations and their stupid miscommunications.

God, that sounded so much easier.

Bryce wouldn’t have noticed Jensen sitting down next to him if he hadn't lifted his head from his hands. Jensen didn’t say anything, gently setting a hand on his back and rubbing up to his shoulder and back down. He set his head back into his palms.

Jensen shouldn’t have to deal with this much bullshit, especially on a trip that was supposed to be a fucking vacation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He let out a small hum. “Not really,” he sighed, sitting up and leaning back into Jensen’s arm. Jensen hooked his hand onto his waist and easily pulled him into his side. “I just want it to go away.” As Jensen carefully linked their free hands together, stopping him from picking at his nails anymore, he tucked his head onto his shoulder.

“As in go home, or as in they magically turn into decent people?”

He let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he wanted the latter but knowing the impossibility, too.

~~~

Jensen looked anything but happy to be there, squinting at the sun with his arms crossed over his chest. Bryce held an amused smile to himself, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them onto Jensen’s face across the table.

“Thanks,” he said, adjusting them and looking back down to his watch.

Bryce tapped his foot with his own under the table. “What’s your deal?”

Jensen shrugged, picking at his hands. “I don’t know. Doesn’t eating outside bother you at all?”

“No?” he answered in a questioning tone, smile still on his lips. “Why would it?”

Jensen looked uncomfortable just thinking about it. “So many things could go wrong. What if a bird shits in your food?”

Bryce buried his head into his hands with a snort of a laugh as Keiki chimed in from her seat. “Don’t laugh, that’s a valid concern!”

“Is this really what you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes thinking about?”

Jensen answered with a gesture of his hand that practically said, “Obviously,” for him.

~~~

ik that was a lot for that one but i barely have anything for can't fix what's wrong so thats my method of compensating :)

this fic is pretty much pure jensen angst, with a bit of fluff at the end. jensens very good at keeping it together during triage and other difficult circumstances, but this case just breaks him. he tries everything, and its like hes running into a brick wall at every turn. most of the fic is right after the patient coded; nobody responded in time, he had more blood on his hands than he thought possible, and there was seemingly no cause. it ended up being something so incredibly unlikely (think finny from a seperate piece) and he doesn't know what the hell to do with himself afterward. he feels like hes so overwhelmed hes numb and its just a lot of him fumbling through the rest of the day until his shift is over.

bryce does take care of him at the end of the day though, and makes sure he's okay enough for tomorrow and is more than willing to take off if he isn't

(this little thing is really the only piece worth sharing for rn but at least its soft and cute)

~~~

Bryce pushed the bowl to the side, thumb and index finger hooking onto his chin and lining their gazes up as one. Before he could ask anything, Jensen reached across the corner of the table, wrapping him in the best hug he could manage. Bryce took over from there, holding him strong and steady as he crumbled in his arms.

#tysm both of you i appreciate it!!!#apologies for typos and such i havent looked at these in A While #also most of my fics titles are inspired by songs/song lyrics #i dont miss you at all is pity party by mike naran #and cant fix whats wrongs is whats wrong by half alive #open heart choices #open heart #bryce lahela #open heart mc #choices open heart #jensen valentine #keiki lahela #open heart fic #asks answers #wip

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bedlamsbard · 2 years

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About 800 words written today. Distracted because of the internet thing, even though it got fixed TWO HOURS EARLY (!); I’m also just generally in a funk, For Reasons. Maybe over the next three days I will just try to deal with some of the house things that are bothering me? So I can at least deal with the things that are in my direct line of sight. (No, I haven’t put my bookshelves together yet.) Chapter is done in draft, but I think I’m going to be adding things in edits...I’ll figure it out.

Snippet from The Horizon Line chapter 10.

“Go to hell,” Steve said again, turning his head to follow Sterns’ progress as he moved over to one of the nearby lab benches.

Sterns turned back to him, an IV bag filled with reddish liquid in one hand, and tapped a finger against his green-mottled bald head. “I worked for HYDRA after this happened to me,” he said. “I’ve been there, thanks, Cap. I’ll take this job any day.”

Steve flinched again at the slight sting of Sterns inserting the IV in his arm. “What is that?”

“Well, it started as something that the old Red Room used to use on its Widows,” Sterns said, adjusting the IV. “Your pretty girlfriend might remember it. I improved it and then once we got you, I was able to tailor it to your body chemistry.”

Natasha. Steve’s hands flexed in their restraints, but he still couldn’t get free no matter how hard he tried. “To do what?” he demanded, trying and failing to keep his voice calm. He was on the verge of panic and knew he sounded like it.

“Some interesting stuff. It’ll take a few minutes to kick in, even for you.” He checked the IV again, then took a seat on the stool next to the operating table and looked down at Steve.

Steve shut his eyes, uncertain whether or not he could actually feel whatever he was being injected with flowing through him. “Why are you doing this to me?”

#daily fic snippet #roleswap endgame au concept

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cheesewizardry · 29 days

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Magic dialogue

I am new to this app and I cant fi d the original post but this is following the post with the idea that wizards should trust their spells as much as software engineers trust their programs, which is to say, not at all.

“So what new spells are you working on?”

“A teleportation spell, Im trying to get it to be more cost effective than Malcazzar’s”

“Oh really? What language are you using?”

“Elder futhark”

“El-Im sorry what!? Elder futhark? Not even Younger? I mean dont get me wrong, I love Elder, my staff only has Elder runes, you cant get any simpler than one rune, one effect. But, for teleportation!? Its the most basic elemental runic language in existence, but trying to get any effect outside of the basics increases the size of the scroll like nothing else. And teleportation is notoriously tricky.”

“Yeah its been tough, and the scrolls are getting pretty long.”

“I mean are you running into recursion? Just patching the kinks in the code would require quite a few runes, and then more runes to fix those problems, not to mention all the other effects and power sources.”

“Yeah well Elder is the language i know best, and its actually showing promise. Since the system is so basic each rune has quite a lot of possible effects, its just a matter of finding the right grammar to express it. Ive found a few good combinations, now its just a matter of condescending it.”

“I see, say, what kind of power source are you using?”

“Right now to save my own mana Im using wall power, im just running it through a standard elemental conversion matrix to get it to interface well.”

“Oh christ, how many times have to tripped a breaker cause you tripped over it?”

“Only about 3 times or so”

Both laugh.

“Well what about you, what are you working on”

“Oh im forcing myself to learn Icelandic Stave magic.”

“Oh no, why?”

“Oh im a masochist, but really im using it as an introductory system for geometric magics. I tried learning alchemical circles in school but the last time i used one I messed up the power source portion and it ‘law of equalivilant exchanged’ it’s way into eating a hole in my floor.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You dont know how close my foot was to it.”

Both laugh, the second wizard nodding, “yeah I can see how that would dissuade you”

“Thats the best lesson my teacher ever taught me. ‘A fool learns from his own mistakes, a wise man learns from other’s mistakes’ he lost three fingers on one hand before he realized he should have been poking things using a stick.”

“So he started using a stick?”

“No after losing a finger you now have a designated hand for poking things”

Both laugh, the first wizard speaks again “so yeah im hoping by dipping my toes in, pun intended, this time into basic geometry Ill be able to finally wrap my head around those blasted archaic instructions, i could never keep the angles right, i always ended up with a stray line here, or an aberrant circle there, when i was lucky the spell would fail, when i was unlucky the spell would fail spectacularly and we would then have to hunt down what spawned from it.”

“Oh I definitely get that, i once fell asleep during the class where we learned mentally projecting fine detail into the work as it was formed with alchemical circles, our task was to recreate a bust of merlin from blank stone. Well the circle i drew was great, but i must have been dreaming of maidens because the bust ended up having one, as well quite the mockery of a face.” Both laugh, “yeah i got in some trouble for that one”

“Right now im trying to get my team’s head wizard to finally accept that we dont need to spend the ridiculous rates for ‘genuine’ ingredients when substitutes with some adjustment work just as well. We almost got into a full blown duel when he asserted that he could only accept real basilisk petrified eggs. For one, basilisk’s are notoriously kept in terrible conditions by crackpots, 2nd its three times the price of any chunk of basalt and all you need to do is look up one formula to calculate how much quarts and marble dust to add. He said ‘oh but i dont want to add anymore ingredient circles’ like bitch, adding ingredient circles and three lines of runic code to incorporate them is the easiest thing to do, its literally the building blocks of spell craft. And dont get me started on unicorn tears. Everyone worth their wand knows that its as simple as adding sea salt to holy water. ‘But its not genuine unicorn tears’ he says, and im like fucker, make a unicorn cry, see how you feel about yourself, then tell me how much cruelty is worth for ‘genuine’ components, the twat.”

#wizard posting #wizard #fantasy writing #wizardcore #writing prompt

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edmturnmeon · 1 year

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High Fashion SOOC Recipe - For Fuji Cameras

Magazine Fashion Like Recipe for Fujifilm X-Trans IV Cameras

Mood: High Fashion, Bright, Magazine Look The Fujifilm High Fashion SOOC Recipe is a specific set of film simulation and camera settings that produce a sophisticated and glamorous look for fashion photography. This recipe is probably the best recipe for fashion I have created compared to the Downtown Bloom recipe. The High Fashion SOOC recipe is fine-tuned to enhance skin tones, bring out subtle colours, and add a touch of warmth to photos, creating a stylish and high-end feel just like a fashion magazine look without editing needed. How to achieve this so-called 'High Fashion' effect? All will be revealed in the next section.

What High Fashion SOOC Recipe Is All About?

Looking to create a sophisticated and glamorous look for your fashion photography? Look no further than the High Fashion SOOC Recipe created specifically for Fujifilm cameras. This recipe uses the Classic Negative film simulation and with some fine-tuning of white balance, natural lighting, and camera accessories, you can achieve a magazine-worthy look straight out of the camera. For optimal results, it's recommended to shoot in well-lit locations or during golden hours, like the high fashion photoshoot in KL I shot recently with this recipe in downtown Kuala Lumpur. The recipe is especially well-suited for urban areas, so try it out in other cities and countries to see it really shine.

Shooting Tips With High Fashion SOOC Recipe

Most of the time, I like to shoot in the golden hour, and some times high fashion photoshoot also looks good under the sun. You probably need a wide-angle lens. For the sample photos, I've shot with the Fujifilm X-T4 and Fujinon XF35mm F2 lens, combined with the diffusion filter and VND filter. Using diffusion and VND filter for a fashion shoot? Yes, this is the secret to achieving the High Fashion magazine look when shooting SOOC JPEG. Guess what? I only adjusted the highlights using Fujifilm X Raw Studio, and that's it. It looks amazing. When looking for the best natural lighting, it is crucial to consider the location's surroundings. The ideal setting is an area with buildings that reflect and bounce light. The reflected light can produce a soft and diffused effect that will enhance your photos' overall quality. In this particular instance, the photoshoot was scheduled for around 11.30 am, a time when the sun is up and shining brightly. I tried to shoot under the shade as much as possible to avoid the harsh shadow casting on the model. Naturally, it is essential to remember that the high fashion SOOC recipe mentioned here is primarily intended for recreational purposes, personal shoots, or com card photoshoots. If you're looking to conduct a professional fashion photoshoot for a well-established company, you may need to put in a significant amount of effort. Ultimately, the decision is yours. If you are new to photography, do check out the online photography courses that might be useful for your photography journey.

Fujifilm High Fashion SOOC Recipe Custom Settings

Film Simulation Classic Negative Highlight +1 Shadow +2 Color +2 Sharpness -2 Noise Reduction -4 Grain Effect / Grain Size Off Color Chrome Effect / FX Blue Strong / Strong WB / Color Temperature Daylight, Red 2 & Blue -1 Exposure Compensation Up to +1/3 ISO Auto up to ISO 6400 Clarity +1 Dynamic Range DR400

Sample Photos

Looking for more Fujifilm SOOC Recipes?

Select a Fujifilm recipe Boudoir Chrome Carbon Obscura Cine Obscura Classy Glow Cine 2046 Cine Matte Cira 800 Film Dark Diary Dark Matter Downtown Bloom Fujicolor Pro 400H Film ( Street Version) Fujicolor Pro 400H Film ( Portrait Version) Fujicolor Superia X-Tra 400 Film Fujicolor C200 Expired Film High Fashion Hue Obscure Kodachrome 64 Kodak Portra 400 Film LomoChrome Metropolis Film Natura Classic Noir Bloom Nomadic Mood Nordic Bliss One for the Road Purple Dream Summer Wanderer Tokyo Dream True Chroma Urban Dream Vision Obscura Yashica Golden 80s Share This:

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#ClassicNegativeFilmRecipes #FashionFilmSimulationRecipes

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veneataur · 2 years

Text

Whumptober 14/31

prompt: die a hero or live long enough to become a villain

fandom: Star Wars

words: 1253

tw: medical stuff, mental illness (bipolar disorder), suicide

a/n: I think I caught all of the triggers in this one. Let me know if I need to tag something. It is a darker one than the last several. Nothing is graphic in terms of the triggers. This is more of an emotional whump. The story takes place some months after The Phantom Menace. Also, the prompt is not meant to be a characterization of bipolar disorder but of Obi-Wan's feelings about his new situation.

He comes to himself in a room in the halls of healing. It’s an odd idea really because when he thinks about it he knew he was here. He remembers being brought in against his will and strapped down to a bed. Master Che told him what she was sending through the IV but it was all nonsense to him as he argued he was fine and that she was just poisoning him. It wasn’t really his finest hour.

The nurse who comes in to check on him is all business. He doesn’t recall running into her before. She asks a few questions about how he’s feeling and checks his vitals. She doesn’t release the restraints or tell him what’s going on.

“Just tell me, is he okay? Is Anakin okay?”

“Anakin is fine,” Master Windu says. Obi-Wan looks from the nurse to the door to see Masters Windu and Che. The nurse takes their arrival as her time to leave.

“What’s going on?” Obi-Wan eyes them warily.

“First, how’re you feeling,” Che asks. She checks his chart.

“Fine. I’d like out of here and to get back to Anakin.” He tries not to be too short with them but really, he’s fine and he’d like to get back to his life rather than be chained up in here.

“That’s not going to be possible,” Windu says. Obi-Wan looks at him, hoping to get a glimpse of an emotion on the man’s normally placid face.

“Why? What’s going on?” He forces himself to speak less frantically.

“How much do you remember of what happened before you got here,” Che asks. She’s stopped looking at the chart and is now giving him an annoying patient look.

Obi-Wan pauses to think about the days leading up to him being here. They’re somewhat a blur but he does remember feeling the best he has in a long time.

“I felt fantastic, like I could take on anything and win. I don’t know that I’d ever felt that before. It was like I was high on something.”

“We thought that too, but you were clear of all drugs. The only thing in your system was alcohol.”

“I vaguely remember drinking.” Obi-Wan doesn’t like the fuzziness of his memories. He doesn’t like not feeling himself, not feeling in control, balanced. He struggles to maintain his calm demeanor. He needs to satisfy their curiosity so he can be released and get back to Anakin.

“You’ll still need an official diagnosis, but I’ve spoken with the mind healers and given this incident as well as others as brought to our attention by your friends, I believe you have a mood disorder. You've probably noticed the changing of moods. Going from extreme sad to happy. Given your grief over losing Master Jinn, I think we all missed the signs.”

⁸Obi-Wan had long stopped paying attention. He didn't really believe her. He couldn't have a mental illness. He was fine.

“No. I'm perfectly fine. It's just the stress lately. Going from padawan to having a padawan in hours takes some adjustment.” He feels his irritation rising. He’s not unfamiliar with it but he's learned to let it go rather than be controlled by it.

“You’re not,” Windu says. “But you will be. We’ll take care of you.”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure whether to be comforted or wary of the way Master Windu tells him that. He does see, however, that he has little choice in the matter.

When Obi-Wan is finally released days later and after daily visits with the mind healer, he collapses on his couch. The apartment is empty. He knew it would be but experiencing it makes it reality.

Yes, this is his new reality. Closely monitored solitude. Truly solitude as he can barely even feel his fellow Jedi. Part of his treatment as his mind healer said, was wearing a force inhibitor. The setting was adjustable. At the moment his healer felt it best to place it at the most restrictive so Obi-Wan could deal with his own emotions and not be concerned with others.

It's bullshit but refusal would see him back in his room in the halls. That’s the last place he wants to wind up in again. He’d be locked up and the few times he would get visitors they’d just nurses checking on his vitals or one of his friends giving him concerned looks and wary glances when they think he’s not looking. Seriously, did they think he became a different person because he had this mental illness? He’s still the same person he was before.

He’s not usually a drinker and he knows that he’s prohibited from alcohol, but he could use something to drown his sorrows in. He pushes himself to his feet, finding that simple movement is a struggle. It’s been like this for the last week. His healer says he’s in a depressive episode now. Honestly, Obi-Wan can’t argue with that much, but it’s not an episode, he’s not on some kind of pendulum swinging back and forth between emotional extremes. He knows what they’ve told him, but he still can’t really believe it. It’s just the stress. Once it’s gone, he’ll be better.

The cupboard where he stores his alcohol is dry. Fury building, he decides to look in a few others as a precaution because maybe he moved it, or Anakin did. But no. Its gone. He didn’t have a lot of alcohol and now he has none because those clowns think that he’ll get drunk and go have another manic episode. What do they know. He was just having a good time.

“Bastards,” Obi-Wan says. First, they take Anakin, then his Force, his freedom, and now they invade his privacy? He sinks to the floor, anger, anguish, heartache all mixing together. He pulls his legs in tight, wrapping his arms around his legs as he messily sobs into his knees.

He knows that they’re afraid of him. They’re afraid of what he might do, what he might influence others to do because of his episodes. They don’t trust him. That’s why they took Anakin away and made him break his promise. He hasn’t even been able to see the young boy. He knows Anakin was witness to some of his last episode. According to Master Windu, Anakin had been witness to more and was terrified of him.

Honestly, Obi-Wan was terrified of himself, too. What was he going to become? What did it mean when the people he trusted the most took away his student, his freedom, and the Force? He was dangerous. Poison in the system. That’s why they secluded him. It’s not for his own good but for theirs. Look at Anakin. He’d already scared the young boy so badly he didn’t want to see him.

It wasn’t fair. Anakin hadn’t deserved it. That must’ve been where Anakin got the fear that Yoda sensed in him, the danger. It was from Obi-Wan. What would he do to the next person? Anakin was lucky to have Yoda teaching him now. Obi-Wan couldn’t guarantee that of the next person to have the misfortune of meeting him.

His mind drifts for a few moments from one mindless thought to another. And then he decides. In the cupboard next to where he kept the alcohol, he has some left-over pills.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know who finds him. He doesn’t ask. But he’s back at square one and the only coherent thought is what will he become if he lets this continue.

#whumptober2022 #no.14 #die a hero or live long enough to become a villain #star wars #fic #medical #mental illness #bipolar disorder #suicide #fanfiction #emotional whump #obi wan kenobi

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scarsforsupper · 2 years

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Hi lovely I saw you were looking for ideas! I was wondering if you could do some hcs of Viktor with a fem/gender neutral reader with adhd?

Thank you for your time hope you’re having a good day/night x

HC: Viktor with ADHD reader (!!read a/n!!)

Viktor x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k (unchecked and unedited)

another req done!! aaa so sorry for not posting, ive been a little caught up in art again, so pls take this for compensation T_T i decided to make it fem bc adhd symptoms r in females, n i had to be specific with them!! this by far is the hardest req i got since adhd representation is often warped, and i tried my best to not make it stereotypical !! i mostly based on posts of other people with adhd, but its different for everybody so pls watch out for that!! adhd is a very wide and deep matter, so please do NOT base your perception of adhd on this post, and do your research instead !! :) thank u @lil-teehee

- It was a rough start for the two of you.

- You met Viktor as an adolescent teen, back in the pungent yet probably most vibrant portion of Zaun, the lanes.

- Working as a watcher and a keeper for your aunt’s trading post, you sold mostly scholarly items: rolls of parchment papers, charcoal, graphite, lost and unwanted books, and encyclopedias.

- Growing up with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder—better known as ADHD, you haven’t been seen as the best at multitasking, however, you managed to convince your aunt to let you help at the shop because believe it or not, you really did think you were good at multitasking.

- ADHD wasn’t the only disorder you’ve been stuck with—neurodivergent disorders frequently coexist with ADHD and it did NOT make things any easier.

- Mathematics and numbers mercilessly tortured your senses whenever you needed to count or compute or read something that had symbols, at least five times a day you’d end up with an irritated merchant as you spent tens of minutes grasping how much change they had.

- Viktor came to your shop on a hazy morning, placing onto your table a blank-paged journal and three pieces of charcoal to come with.

- It was honestly a fight to stay focused because: it was very early, your mind had not adjusted yet to the energy you needed to function properly—which was very annoying, because ever since you’ve woken up you’ve been trying to do things to kickstart your day but your mind just won’t cooperate with you so you ended up doing absolutely nothing. And two, you wanted to do something else, be somewhere else.

- Being biologically female, ADHD often occurs undiagnosed, and your case wasn’t an exception. Maybe it’s because you were in the Undercity, with no access to any health specialists. Or maybe it was because you’ve never been to one. Not like there were any down there.

- As Viktor waited for you to give him his change and bag his purchase, he cracked open his old journal filled with theories and equations and sketches of all his ideas and thoughts.

- You caught a glimpse of one of his very detailed drawings, thus shifting your attention from your task to what he held in his hands.

- The two of you ended up in a very long discussion about his theory on applied mechanics and mechanical physics—both of which you did not understand, but for some reason amused you to no end.

- He ended up inviting you to the little makeshift lab he used to tinker and conduct experiments. For you it was a safe haven; you felt like it was a place where you could do anything and everything you could think of.

- Only if you had the energy to.

- You told him about your mental and learning struggle a few years after establishing a good and healthy bond with him, but he beat you to it—he’s had his suspicions all along—and you only confirmed it.

- Not that it was a bad thing, it actually helped him help you in certain areas where you needed a little help, like how he’d remind you that you went into the kitchenette to make a pot of coffee after he walks in on you enjoying a deep-sea creature photo book 30 minutes after you’d went inside. Or when he’d bring pieces of chocolate for you to receive after every page you successfully read.

- Basically, you were perfectly capable of living on your own with ADHD without anyone’s help or support. Viktor just made it a hundred times better.

- He never told you to “Stop fidgeting,” or “Stop procrastinating.” Or that you were better off taking medication (which you weren’t able to do as the Undercity greatly lacked in medical supplies, much less mental health-related ones) or that you just needed to calm down.

- Instead, he’d give positive reinforcement whenever you did something beneficial for yourself, and would remind you in an ever so gentle reminder when you start to get off-tracked.

- When he’d receive the letter from the dean of the academy that he was to be given a chance to enroll in the academy and live in the city, he brought you along with him—he wanted a better life for the two of you.

- There were a few more things he’d learned upon living with you. There were ‘some days,’ and ‘other days.’

- On some days, you’d get up early. Wake up with a light body, feeling capable of doing anything you wanted. You would exercise, do yoga. Walk all the way to the market, come home with groceries in hand. Hyperfocused. Productive.

- But on other days, you’d get up later than noon. Sometimes, not even get up at all. Everything would feel overwhelming to you, often resulting in your brain and body shutting down and closing off to the world. You’d have extreme trouble analyzing even the most basic of things, like how much time there is left until Viktor comes home. Insecurity would feed off of your self-deprecating thoughts, paralyzing your thought train and crushing the will to do anything at all.

- The first few days Viktor experienced these (separately) he was constantly in a state of mild panic. Mostly because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be of any help to you. But he had never despised you for your disorder—it was something neither you nor he could change—and none of it definitely wasn’t your fault.

- It took him a few tries to discover what options he had and what was necessary to do in order to keep you from acting recklessly, he didn’t want you to suffer any consequences. He was there to help for a reason.

- There are times when you’d explain things to him more times than needed, but all he’d do is chuckle to himself and sit down listening to you.

- Sometimes it would take hours.

- He knew it was something beyond your control; there was no way he could scold you for excessive chatter. He often restrained himself from finding it adorable—it was a byproduct of your mental illness—one thing people should not ‘adore’ or glorify.

- All in all, although Viktor’s not as familiar with the health aspect of science as he is with the mechanical and technical counterpart, he learned enough through you and for you, to help you.

- He sure enjoys doing things for you.

- And he loves it.

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