#flashback meme

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“Oh Arceus-uh- oh my god he’s so little…..UH uh GUYS HOW DO I HOLD A CHILD?!?”

A sigh. “Calm down, Kenji, you’re going to drop him if you panic- just. Let those motherly instincts take over.”

“…Oh sweet legendaries are we dads now?”

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Your character walks in on mine having a violent flashback and is forced to pin them down for both of their safety. Send me, ‘wake up’ for my character’s reaction/coming to with yours still on top of them.

He needs to forget. He wants to forget. How can he make them stop?! How can he get these memories to leave him alone?!

Come wit' me, Izuru. I got somethin' real nice fer ya.

He's shaking, and he thinks, dimly, that he might be crying as well. But it's so difficult to tell. He wants to scream, but his throat is frozen shut. Someone, please save him.

Why're ya cryin', Izuru? Ya don' need ta, ya'll always be real safe wit' me.

He can't forget. Those damned words, always haunting him, always echoing in his ears.

Ya look so frail, ya poor thin'. Wan' me ta save ya?

His worst crimes, his worst sins. He's unforgiveable. Unforgivable... Unforgivable!

And then, he's saved. Hearing a loud shout draws his attention from his torture and back to the present, to find Kuchiki Rukia on top of him, hands on his shoulders shaking him, saving him from the darkness. She must have been the one to yell, to draw his attention back outwards.

"K-Kuchiki-san... I-I..."

He closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing dryly and forcing back the tears that want to fall.

Flashback meme // Accepting

@beauty-in-vein

The maven’s playing ceases as the dark engulfs the stage andthe entire chamber all at once. Her head turns, eyes wide, unable to discernwhere anything is. Startled voices and hurrying footsteps of the stage crewlace the prominent hush as they try to make sense of the recent occurrence.Sona remains where she stands, having faith in the crew that the performancewill continue once the lights return. A loud click sounds as a cone of etherealblue light shines on only her. The quiet blankets the vicinity as quickly aswhen the darkness came. A deep voice breaks the silence.

‘Your music lacks the cruelty of a masterpiece.’

A reverberating bang of a gunshot sounds, followed by awhizzing of an object that grazes her upper arm. And simultaneously does thehall erupt in terrified screams and clamors as people rush about for an exit. Aburning, stinging sensation comes to her as she clasps the affected area. Uponlifting crimson drenched fingers, her thoughts quickly gather as realizationstrikes her that she had been shot.

She bolts into a direction, away from the voice. However,aimless. Each hurried footstep falls onto the wooden floor but one step is notlike the others. Her moment slows as her foot makes contact with somethingelse. For a moment, she focuses on pushing herself but her attention goes to aticking noise where she places her final step. It is almost as if a toy hadbeen wound and has been sprung, uncoiling slowly, picking up the pace. Sonapulls her foot away right when an explosion occurs, sending her entire beingonto the floor with a piece of broken wood in her foot.

‘Your work will be forgotten. I am ahead of my time.’

The voice echoes around her within the shadows. With thedark inhibiting her senses, she could not be found. The discord in the musichall continues and so does her persistence to escape. Sona lets out a gasp butwills herself to ignore the pain to her utmost best. She knows that she has toget herself to safety on her own and soon. Her hand slams onto the floor tohoist herself only for it to meet with a curved, protruding nail. Elbows slackas she finally gives into her injuries. Her head lowers at an instant as sheattempts to buffer the pain. Lips trembling, eyes filled with tears, and hairsticking to her sweat coated face, she bites her lips in attempt to cancel the agonyand muffle her erratic breathing. A shaky hand comes to the aid of the other.Grasping into the base area of her thumb and using the strength in her arms,she quickly frees it from the constraint, delivering another wave of excruciatingpain. Tears pour from tightly closed eyes as she lets the pain take her.

‘Step out of my light! They call it background music!’

With an unharmed leg and arm, she pulls herself on theground. If she cannot make it out, she would have to find somewhere to concealherself. However, her hope dwindles at the thought of there possibly beingother traps that lay somewhere. Sona’s breathing heaves as she pulls herselfacross the floor. Her injured hand clings against her first injury in hopes tostop the pain and bleeding for both. A path of the same light shines on her,illuminating a clear path before her. Lips slack as she looks ahead, unsure ofhow to proceed, or if she should. A hum, hushed counting to four becomesclearer. Golden feet reflect the light as it steps into it. Gradual steps carrythe figure into the light to reveal an intricately masked man.

The maven trembles uncontrollably, finding herself at themercy of this individual. The mask smiling down at her disposition, pitying;feeling as though it is relishing this moment. With a pistol in hand, he lowershimself towards her. He caresses the barrel along her cheek and down to herchin, tipping her face so that she would meet his gaze. Bright blues clash witha singular crimson eye framed by the ivory mask.

It was cold, and dark. There was only a fire to keep the team warm, Richard, a Serperior, a Galvantula, and a Mr. Mime kept by the fire; all of them were asleep. The Gothitelle wasn’t. She was sitting a bit farther away, keeping watch for any hostilities. She shivered and wrapped the blanket she had further around her. It was so cold, and dark. She didn’t know why, but she always felt the cold in bursts-- like something was breathing. Something big. 

She didn’t know how Lacunosa Town and its denizens could live with this icy, cold, sleeper. As the fire crackled, and the breathing of her sleeping teammates became quiet and soft, Jhudora became acutely aware of her surroundings. The pattering of sneasels coming through, the screeching of golbats as they flapped their wings in a swarm, the songs of the jynx.

Still, the Gothitelle wasn’t sure what could be found here. This place... it felt wrong to be here. She felt some minor tremors and expected it to be another excadrill, minding its business and digging through underneath them, but the tremors-- and the breathing-- got worse. She looked up and saw rocks begin to fall and she felt the wind knocked out of her as cave’s ceiling began to collapse on her. 

Her teammates, feeling the tremors, woke from their slumber and began to panic, all the while immense pain and pressure began to take over the Gothitelle. They rushed to her side, tugging at her arms to pull her out from underneath the rocks-- but it was no use. The rocks were too heavy, and she would not budge.  Crash. Crunch. Snap. She did not have the energy to even wail in pain. Her voice was no longer with her. She heard shouts, but could no longer make them out as her vision faded to black.