#tw overdose

CW: drugs, overdose, death, trauma. MDNI

They both bond over their trauma and being the wrecks society doesn’t seem to want anymore. Somehow, these misfits find community and love in each other. They help each other through flashbacks and depressive lows. They talk each other out of self destructive behavior and push each other towards healing. It’s hard, but after two years, it feels like they’re finally getting to a good place.

Until, one day, she woke up, nerves alight. Something was wrong, and she could feel it. She gazed over the empty bedroom; Simon had been gone a long time judging by his cool, barely ruffled side of the bed. Her ears perked up, and her body tensed. She let out a low growl. Keeping low, she sniffed the air and inched towards the bedroom door.

Her stomach dropped at the familiar scent of drugs. It was a scent that triggered her fight or flight long after she left the job. She whined, and her tail swooped between her legs in defeat despite her mind screaming to save Simon from the threat.

Her instincts screaming at her to hide, she pushed herself anyway. She trembled, crawling her way to the living room. All was still and silent. She sniffed the air for blood, hoping she wouldn’t reach too late. She could smell Simon. She let out a little yip and rushed forward.

The smell of drugs and death grew stronger as she approached, but it faded into the background of her mind in her eagerness to reach Simon. Simon was slumped on the floor. His face was pale, and his chest wasn’t moving. She didn’t notice at first as she leaped all over him, laving kisses and licks all over his face.

“Simon, I’m so glad you’re okay!” 🥹 She exclaimed. “Simon? Simon!” She whined and nudged him with her nose. He still didn’t move. “Simon?!” Her voice grew to a desperate shriek. She pawed at him. Minutes passed, and CPR didn’t work. She couldn’t hear a heartbeat or get him to breathe. The smell of drugs lingered in the air. A needle hung off an arm littered with little marks that said that wasn’t the first high he’d sought; it was the last one that pushed him beyond what his body could take.

She clutched his collar with her teeth and tried to drag him to bed. He wasn’t eating or drinking, but she tried to slide tiny spoonfuls down his throat anyway in the hopes he’d wake up. She kept talking to him, as if the power of his love for her was enough to resurrect him.

Days passed, and she refused to believe he wasn’t there, that he’d lost the fight they’d fought together and that he’d left her to wage that war all alone. She kept acting as if he were alive. She’d take care of him and nuzzle him and carry on her life with him. She’d parade her little wins as if he was still gazing at her with tender pride at how cute she looked in a certain dress or how she overcame a nightmare. She didn’t do it alone— she had him. He wasn’t gone. He was right there with her like he’d always been and always would be.

She’d lick and clean him. She’d dress him up. But there was no way it would prevent him from decaying. His flesh melted, and his bones emerged. And she kept going. He’d promised her that they’d keep going together, and he hadn’t broken his promise!— she’d tell herself. So of course she had to keep going.

One night, she nuzzled up to him in the dark. The smell of death and drugs still clung to the place like a ghost. In the back of her mind, a thought she never let fully fledge occurred that maybe it was his spirit, watching her denial and unable to move on until she let herself let go and grieve. Maybe it was a Ghost, lingering with regrets of giving in and stumbling past to point of return.

For the first time, that night, hot tears rolled down her eyes. She burrowed more into his bare ribs, and her body shook with sobs. “You’re really gone, aren’t you, Si? You promised me, and you fucking gave up! You left me *alone*!”

She’d felt too guilty over his suffering culminating this way that she’d never let herself rage before. She’d never let herself admit that she felt betrayed. She was so concerned over how he must have struggled to have reached the end of his rope that she couldn’t feel sorry for what she’d lost. And she was so desperate to have him back that she’d never given in to the searing, overwhelming sorrow out of fear that grieving would mean she’d tempt fate to snatch away any chance of a miracle to bring him back.

That night, the dam broke. She screamed and wailed and pummeled his lifeless body. It broke, and she wept harder but kept going. She couldn’t hold the waves of emotions that had been storming up in her for weeks. She cried with tears for the terrible life they’d lived and for the terrible death he died.

Now cry

Anyway kinda head cannon time abandon naturally is drawn to things like death and misery and Nathan has trouble sleeping because of his depression so abadon would find him late at night in his sadness and would lay on him

So apparently Two Time was addicted to nightshades (or more likely the medicine made out of it). The third milestone skin confirms it -> there's purple liquid next to their mouth if you watch closely. (And I heard someone saying this.)

We also know that Spawn cult is a hoax. What if the Elders of the cult purposely drugged food and/or drinks of 'blessed' cultist. So the hallucinations the medicine gave were interpreted as 'Visions granted by Spawn'.

They did it in an amount that wasn't deadly, but enough to hallucinate. That's the reason why Two Time was ready to sacrifice Azure.

Because they became so obsessed with Spawn, when the hallucination happened it was probably some interpretation of Spawn.

When Two Time told Amarah about their 'vision', he made them think it was Spawn telling them to sacrifice Azure.

It could've happened more than once. And when Two Time started getting sick (after all the drugs they were unknowingly consuming and their body becoming addicted) they believed it was Spawn punishing them for hesitating.

After the sacrifice, Two Time couldn't live with the guilt and regret. They started consuming the medicine Azure previously made. Eventually dying by overdosing.

The Nightshade skin is representing the nightshade poison consuming Two Time's body.

It was Amarah that drugged Two Time.

~ Purple Anon

Ever since Caleb had walked back into your life, he found himself wondering if it was truly you he reunited with. Sure, he knew that in the span of a year, you’d probably mature a little, busy working, and grieving him. But he didn’t realize that you were slipping away from his fingers, even after finally dating.

At first, he assumed you were fighting inner turmoil and thoughts once he came back. Maybe mad at him, still in shock, trauma. But you were much more quieter.

You used to be talkative.

Talk until you bit off Caleb’s ears for hours. Whether it was about Grandma’s unfair rules, your favourite show, favourite artists, your hunter dreams, and he didn’t mind.

Now you didn’t speak unless spoken too. And whenever you did talk, it didn’t have that playful lilt to it. It more sounded clipped, and rehearsed.

“Y’know, you used to talk so much I thought your mouth would hurt. Now it feels like I’m talkin’ to myself.” Caleb once remarked. Playful but a tiny concerned. You laughed. Fake. “Yeah, I noticed how annoying it was.”

But it wasn’t. not to him.