Too many fandoms

WARNING!! MENTIONS OF DYSPHORIA, BLOOD AND SMOKING!

(there may also be mentions of self harm later on if you choose to interact. Please specify if you don't want that mentioned!)

Vick sat alone in the stall. The lighting in there was dim, and it smelled like cleaning products. He had gone here for a moment to breathe considering just how irritated his group had been making him. There were only 3 stalls for the cast. All roughly the same size as a disabled bathroom, one for girls, one for guys, and then one for others. The other two were taken. He was in the womens stall.

He felt incredibly uneasy in there and had been staring at himself in the mirror for the past 10 minutes.

...

You can look the part, but you can't be the part.

...

He was back in the womens stall. Just like he always had been for the majority of his life.

The womens stall.

The silence was deafening. He could slowly hear his own breathing increase in volume, now louder than the buzzing of the lights.

He was hyperventilating. His chest felt tight.

...

(They were deep in thought. It took a bit to figure out where the bathrooms are, and their head mates were trying their very best to guide the body to the right direction.)

(The handicap ones taken...)

(Are you serious? They have to use the women's one again?)

(It's not that bad. Not like anyone is gonna care.)

(... Being in the men's room is more intimidating anyway.)

(Just thinking about it makes Fawn's stomach drop.)

(Don't think about it don't think about it.)

(They can be quick, it's okay. They're okay.)

(Oh, it's Occupied...)

(Okay, they didn't need to come in urgently, they just wanted to adjust their binder in front of a mirror. They spin on their heal until──)

⸙ "Ah!"

(A sudden crunch, followed by a rumble that Fawn could feel below their shoes.)

(What... Was that? Did someone fall?)

(There's trickling glass from the other side. Fawn takes in a deep breath, slow, trying their best to focus their hearing...)

(Someones on the other side, they could be hurt. They heard glass.)

(Maybe Fawn should leave them alone, maybe they're fine. They shouldn't bother them.)

(Guilt washes away that thought, it's interrupted. No! They should at least knock or something! Don't just stand there!)

(Three knocks.)

(They lean their ear against the door...)

⸙ "Are... you okay in there? I can get help if you need any!"

(They probably said too much. Just saying 'are you alright' would have been enough.)

If he didn't say anything, they'd likely assume the worse and then call someone over to help, which he truly didn't need.

After a moment of thinking, he sighed and chose to speak.

“Im fine, Fawn. Thank you for the offer.”

(Stammering. No full words leave their mouth, they're just small syllables, unsure if they should fully say the sentence.)

(Their thoughts are conflicted, clouded with the need to shove themselves in, but also scared they'll anger the tycoon by doing so.)

(Their chest feels tight. The fabric is too much, it's been 12 hours since they've taken a break from wearing it.)

(Okay, maybe they do need to use the stall...)

(Not only that, but hearing the way Vick breathes, it's choppy. They can't just ignore that.)

⸙ "Are... You sure? I heard glass breaking, and, um..."

(Is the door unlocked? Oh. They're silly for not thinking about twisting the knob.)

(Carefully, they enter, making sure to immediately shut the door behind them.)

(Oh...)

(Their blood turns to ice.)

(Broken mirror. Shattered glass. Vick leaning against the wall with a cigarette and spots of crimson on his knuckles.)

(Someone forced words out of Fawn's throat.)

⸙ "What the hell did you do to your hand?"

“Just a little accident. Its nothing too bad.”

He took a drag from his cigarette. It was a clear lie about his hand being fine, considering the fact it was trembling and he couldn't even bear to make eye contact.

“The mirror came off of the wall on its own. I didn't do anything.”

It was a shitty lie, but he didn't really want to get personal right now. He stood up slowly.

⸙ "Vick."

(Their tone was a mix of things. Stern, yet worrying, like a mother that caught their child crying and the other keeps denying it.)

(Their eyes take off the hand to glance at the broken mirror.)

⸙ "Mirrors don't shatter like that on their own. Something... Must've made you punch it."

(Stop toning it down, this is serious. There's no need to falter and be polite. Something is clearly wrong.)

(A hint of green makes Fawn stutter while they speak,)

⸙ "No, I don't need anything, I just wanted to check on you. I'm... I'm worried about you and your hand..."

(If only they had the medkit... There was a pair of tweezers in there.)

(Hesitant, slowly, they reach up their gloved hands up.)

⸙ "Let me see it."

(A beat.)

⸙ "...please? I wanna help you. I'm worried about you. I'm not making fun of you, or anything, I promise."

⸙ "I understand that feeling. It's... It's better off to just keep it to yourself, right? To... To not have to make anyone worry about you? But, uh..."

(There are some pieces that could be taken out with just their fingers. Fawn gently guides Vick closer to the sink.)

⸙ "You're safe with me. If there's something going on, I'm here to listen. Uh, and, um, your glove. I can't take it off just yet? So? I'm gonna run it under the water if that's okay... It'll make your skin soften, and the glass can fall out that way."

“I know I'm safe with you. I'd have no reason not to be, but I don't need someone to vent out my frustrations to. I was just a little angry. This doesn't normally happen, so i can assure you, nothing is wrong with me.”

There was one thing that made it so obvious it was a lie.

(He feels safe with them. That's great, genuinely, it really is. Fawn felt warm and fuzzy at the thought of someone like Vick being comfortable around them.)

(His scars. They're new. These are a different shape compared to the ones on their own left wrist and other sections of the back of their arms.)

(What... Else has he done to himself?)

(They have to take off their gloves too. Wet fabric makes them squirm.)

(Off goes the lace cuffs and gloves. As they shuffled the fabric into one of their pants pockets, Fawn's hands lightly lean Vick's down.)

(Four lines. Some along their own wrist, a few others on the back of their arm too. They're fading away, pale.)

⸙ "You... Broke the mirror because you were angry."

(Repeating things helps Fawn. It creates a visual in their head, like reading a story book and taking in the scenery.)

(Room temperature, right? Or warm? Try warm, yeah. It'll expand the skin, maybe?)

(Fawn was wincing while they watched the sink water flow over Vick's hand. Salmon coats the bowl of the sink.)

(He's looking away. Does it hurt that much?)

(Wait, he's not looking at the mirror either...)

⸙ "Did you... See something that you didn't like? Because... It must have been bad enough to punch a mirror and injure yourself, Vick."

(Sounds of bubbling water and clinking. Two shards are out, but one of them are stuck. It's big enough to pull out. Fawn hisses through their teeth.)

⸙ "Aw, Vick... It's not worth it to hurt yourself because of your reflection."

It was a little difficult to think of a response considering the fact he was having shards of a mirror removed from his hand. It stung like hell. His lower pain tolerance was something he'd never admit.

It was something he'd been trying to get rid of for years, afterall. And his arms were proof of that.

He seemed a little worried.. One of the cigarette burns looked a little newer, and warm water on that would definitely make it hurt a lot worse.

“I know i shouldn't have punched the mirror over something as stupid as that.”

Was he over reacting? Majorly? I mean, he didn't even punch himself because of his actual reflection, it was just the dysphoria of going into the wrong bathroom. Seriously?

⸙ "Mnmm..."

(Using their fingers, gently, they wiggle out one of the last of the shards.)

⸙ "It... Was pretty stupid. But! I mean, you were frustrated and you wanted to take it out somehow-- but still! It was dumb."

(The smaller pieces are still attached... They'll have to take off the glove. Rivers of blood are still flowing.)

⸙ "Sorry. You don't wanna be scolded, you already know and... Look--"

⸙ "You don't have to hide anything. But I won't force you to tell me anything either."

⸙ "I just wanna let you know that, whatever made you do that, you're not alone."

⸙ "I've done some stupid things to myself before, and... It only made me feel worse after I did it."

(They hook a finger under the glove.)

⸙ "Almost done, but I have to take the glove off. Be ready, dear. I mean, Vick."

(Pinching the tips of the fingers, they try to glide it off. God they can't imagine how painful this must be...)

(... There's more scars. Circular. Pink. Deep.)

⸙ "... Is, is this okay? I won't touch them if you don't want me to. Oh God, Vick, these look fresh-- we should clean them out..."

“They're Fine. It's fine.”

His tone was slightly more aggressive than usual, and he quickly snatched his hand away.

He paused.

Suddenly, he sighed, and placed his hand back in theirs.

(They jump from the sudden pull away, shoulders and hands raised. They flinch from the sudden movement and both hands raise over their face.)

(...)

(Oh.)

(Fawn is surprised when Vick returns his hand.)

(Their chest feels much tighter than before. Damn it. It's getting hard to breathe after that sudden flinch.)

(The glove flutters to the ground. Damn it.)

(Too far. Too fucking nosy. Should have slowed down and focused more on helping him.)

(Remember when our therapist kept bugging us about the cuts? Yeah, imagine that now.)

(Okay. They get it. Ouch.)

(They hold the palm. now tracing their eyes along the cuts. Knuckles are irritated, slits of red are shiny. It's still bleeding but it's not overflowing anymore.)

⸙ "I was being too nosy. I don't blame you for pulling away."

(Awkwardly, Fawn turns their head away. They're grabbing a couple of paper towels.)

(This will do for now. They really wish they had that medkit, then they could properly patch up his hand.)

(Their hands are smaller. It feels warm, to hold Vick's hand like this, and the fact that he allowed them to send his wound feels...)

⸙ "...I used to rub eracers on my wrists. I thought if I did it, then... Then that means I've been properly punished."

(Why are they saying this now? This isn't going to help, idiot!)

(But... They keep speaking, softly.)

⸙ "I thought, if no one could punish me then I should punish myself. So I did that. It was over something stupid too."

⸙ "I forgot what exactly it was, I think, I think I promised something to my sibling and I realized that I broke it."

⸙ "All it did was make these big, painful burns on my skin. It took weeks for it to heal."

⸙ "... Your hand should be okay now. I think."

(For the rest of the time, as Fawn wraps and presses the towels against the wounds, they don't speak.)

{$} He said, his voice more quiet than usual. He took a deep breath and hesitated before speaking again.

“I've.. Got my own reasons for why I do it. But I wouldn't want to make you worry.”

He looked into their eyes for a moment. It wasn't often Vick allowed himself to be vulnerable around another person. There was something about Fawn that made him feel like it was okay. Just once.

WARNING!! MENTIONS OF DYSPHORIA, BLOOD AND SMOKING!

(there may also be mentions of self harm later on if you choose to interact. Please specify if you don't want that mentioned!)

Vick sat alone in the stall. The lighting in there was dim, and it smelled like cleaning products. He had gone here for a moment to breathe considering just how irritated his group had been making him. There were only 3 stalls for the cast. All roughly the same size as a disabled bathroom, one for girls, one for guys, and then one for others. The other two were taken. He was in the womens stall.

He felt incredibly uneasy in there and had been staring at himself in the mirror for the past 10 minutes.

...

You can look the part, but you can't be the part.

...

He was back in the womens stall. Just like he always had been for the majority of his life.

The womens stall.

The silence was deafening. He could slowly hear his own breathing increase in volume, now louder than the buzzing of the lights.

He was hyperventilating. His chest felt tight.

...

(They were deep in thought. It took a bit to figure out where the bathrooms are, and their head mates were trying their very best to guide the body to the right direction.)

(The handicap ones taken...)

(Are you serious? They have to use the women's one again?)

(It's not that bad. Not like anyone is gonna care.)

(... Being in the men's room is more intimidating anyway.)

(Just thinking about it makes Fawn's stomach drop.)

(Don't think about it don't think about it.)

(They can be quick, it's okay. They're okay.)

(Oh, it's Occupied...)

(Okay, they didn't need to come in urgently, they just wanted to adjust their binder in front of a mirror. They spin on their heal until──)

⸙ "Ah!"

(A sudden crunch, followed by a rumble that Fawn could feel below their shoes.)

(What... Was that? Did someone fall?)

(There's trickling glass from the other side. Fawn takes in a deep breath, slow, trying their best to focus their hearing...)

(Someones on the other side, they could be hurt. They heard glass.)

(Maybe Fawn should leave them alone, maybe they're fine. They shouldn't bother them.)

(Guilt washes away that thought, it's interrupted. No! They should at least knock or something! Don't just stand there!)

(Three knocks.)

(They lean their ear against the door...)

⸙ "Are... you okay in there? I can get help if you need any!"

(They probably said too much. Just saying 'are you alright' would have been enough.)

If he didn't say anything, they'd likely assume the worse and then call someone over to help, which he truly didn't need.

After a moment of thinking, he sighed and chose to speak.

“Im fine, Fawn. Thank you for the offer.”

(Stammering. No full words leave their mouth, they're just small syllables, unsure if they should fully say the sentence.)

(Their thoughts are conflicted, clouded with the need to shove themselves in, but also scared they'll anger the tycoon by doing so.)

(Their chest feels tight. The fabric is too much, it's been 12 hours since they've taken a break from wearing it.)

(Okay, maybe they do need to use the stall...)

(Not only that, but hearing the way Vick breathes, it's choppy. They can't just ignore that.)

⸙ "Are... You sure? I heard glass breaking, and, um..."

(Is the door unlocked? Oh. They're silly for not thinking about twisting the knob.)

(Carefully, they enter, making sure to immediately shut the door behind them.)

(Oh...)

(Their blood turns to ice.)

(Broken mirror. Shattered glass. Vick leaning against the wall with a cigarette and spots of crimson on his knuckles.)

(Someone forced words out of Fawn's throat.)

⸙ "What the hell did you do to your hand?"

“Just a little accident. Its nothing too bad.”

He took a drag from his cigarette. It was a clear lie about his hand being fine, considering the fact it was trembling and he couldn't even bear to make eye contact.

“The mirror came off of the wall on its own. I didn't do anything.”

It was a shitty lie, but he didn't really want to get personal right now. He stood up slowly.

⸙ "Vick."

(Their tone was a mix of things. Stern, yet worrying, like a mother that caught their child crying and the other keeps denying it.)

(Their eyes take off the hand to glance at the broken mirror.)

⸙ "Mirrors don't shatter like that on their own. Something... Must've made you punch it."

(Stop toning it down, this is serious. There's no need to falter and be polite. Something is clearly wrong.)

(A hint of green makes Fawn stutter while they speak,)

⸙ "No, I don't need anything, I just wanted to check on you. I'm... I'm worried about you and your hand..."

(If only they had the medkit... There was a pair of tweezers in there.)

(Hesitant, slowly, they reach up their gloved hands up.)

⸙ "Let me see it."

(A beat.)

⸙ "...please? I wanna help you. I'm worried about you. I'm not making fun of you, or anything, I promise."

⸙ "I understand that feeling. It's... It's better off to just keep it to yourself, right? To... To not have to make anyone worry about you? But, uh..."

(There are some pieces that could be taken out with just their fingers. Fawn gently guides Vick closer to the sink.)

⸙ "You're safe with me. If there's something going on, I'm here to listen. Uh, and, um, your glove. I can't take it off just yet? So? I'm gonna run it under the water if that's okay... It'll make your skin soften, and the glass can fall out that way."

“I know I'm safe with you. I'd have no reason not to be, but I don't need someone to vent out my frustrations to. I was just a little angry. This doesn't normally happen, so i can assure you, nothing is wrong with me.”

There was one thing that made it so obvious it was a lie.

(He feels safe with them. That's great, genuinely, it really is. Fawn felt warm and fuzzy at the thought of someone like Vick being comfortable around them.)

(His scars. They're new. These are a different shape compared to the ones on their own left wrist and other sections of the back of their arms.)

(What... Else has he done to himself?)

(They have to take off their gloves too. Wet fabric makes them squirm.)

(Off goes the lace cuffs and gloves. As they shuffled the fabric into one of their pants pockets, Fawn's hands lightly lean Vick's down.)

(Four lines. Some along their own wrist, a few others on the back of their arm too. They're fading away, pale.)

⸙ "You... Broke the mirror because you were angry."

(Repeating things helps Fawn. It creates a visual in their head, like reading a story book and taking in the scenery.)

(Room temperature, right? Or warm? Try warm, yeah. It'll expand the skin, maybe?)

(Fawn was wincing while they watched the sink water flow over Vick's hand. Salmon coats the bowl of the sink.)

(He's looking away. Does it hurt that much?)

(Wait, he's not looking at the mirror either...)

⸙ "Did you... See something that you didn't like? Because... It must have been bad enough to punch a mirror and injure yourself, Vick."

(Sounds of bubbling water and clinking. Two shards are out, but one of them are stuck. It's big enough to pull out. Fawn hisses through their teeth.)

⸙ "Aw, Vick... It's not worth it to hurt yourself because of your reflection."

It was a little difficult to think of a response considering the fact he was having shards of a mirror removed from his hand. It stung like hell. His lower pain tolerance was something he'd never admit.

It was something he'd been trying to get rid of for years, afterall. And his arms were proof of that.

He seemed a little worried.. One of the cigarette burns looked a little newer, and warm water on that would definitely make it hurt a lot worse.

“I know i shouldn't have punched the mirror over something as stupid as that.”

Was he over reacting? Majorly? I mean, he didn't even punch himself because of his actual reflection, it was just the dysphoria of going into the wrong bathroom. Seriously?

'”Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, asexual (LGBTQIA+) practices or any other unnatural behavior”

It’s highly likely that pressure to marry and have children will increase and can be enforced through institutional means (arrests, trials, jail time, etc).

Please, all eyes on our LGBTQ+ siblings in Niger. They deserve our unwaverin’ support.