Been A While Since I Posted Ren Content

"I could explain more about the Laplace Demon concept if you, dear readers, are interested but that would be for another occasion. Another essay hehe."

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease 🛐

Explaining Laplace's Demon tehory in the context of 14dwy.

Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to talk about this dear anon!

In this post i'll elaborate further about something i said in the end of this super long post. As always TW for 14dwy spoilers!

(Joke's on you, sir, i DID come here for the tales of old)

And this tale in specific is really old. Around two hundred years old to be specific. In 1814 a man known by the name Pierre-Simon de Laplace wrote an essay about a deterministic concept known later as the "Laplace's demon" (although he already seemed to be exploring this concept since 1773)

We may regard the present state of the universe as the effect of its past and the cause of its future. An intellect which at a certain moment would know all forces that set nature in motion, and all positions of all items of which nature is composed, if this intellect were also vast enough to submit these data to analysis, it would embrace in a single formula the movements of the greatest bodies of the universe and those of the tiniest atom; for such an intellect nothing would be uncertain and the future just like the past could be present before its eyes.

(Pierre Simon Laplace, Philosophical Essay on Probabilities.)

But what does this all mean? Well basically this man spoke about a hypothetical "intelligence" (he didn't precisely used the word "demon") that, knowing the precise location of every particle in the universe and where they were headed, they would be able to guess the past and future values for any given time. In other words, we would be referring to an almighty hypothetical "thing" able to see the past and future of every single thing in the universe.

Of course this is all a model, a theory, an exploration on what would happen if something like this existed in the first place. After all, it was all a philosophical essay in the first place, wasn't it?

"Une intelligence ... Rien ne serait incertain pour elle, et l'avenir, comme le passé, serait présent à ses yeux."

Of course, Mr. Laplace wasn't the only one to explore the idea of an almighty intelligence since other philosophers like Condorcet, Holbach and Diderot also wrote about it.

Now there are several theories (some more modern than others) to explain why an intelligence of this nature will never be possible to exist but there is one that might ring a bell for some people "The Chaos Theory"

Or as some might know it: The butterfly effect.

This theory basically poses that minor variations between the starting conditions of two systems can result in major differences. That's why you say that "A butterfly flying in certain direction today can lead to huge catastrophes tomorrow" it's not something (so) literal but it is useful to illustrate how small can be the variation and how huge can be the result. Of course the change doesn't have to be huge. It can be a minor change, but a change nonetheless.

Btw chaos theory is applicable when knowledge of the system is imperfect, whereas Laplace's demon assumes perfect knowledge of the system, therefore the variability leading to chaos in chaos theory and non-variability in the knowledge of the world Laplace's demon holds are noncomparable.

But, What does this all has to do with 14dwy?

Glad you ask. Actually a lot.

Starting off with the idea of how perfect is this game integrating even its genre (Visual Novel) to the theory. I believe there is no bigger example of the butterfly efect than a Visual Novel, where choosing (or not) certain options can lead to certain results (big or small). Very much like the butterfly effect. And funnily enough, it's us, the player, the embodiment of this umpredictability, since we are the ones that make the choices in the game. We are the antagonists of a hypothetical Laplace's Demon. We are it's antonym. We are an angel. The idea of a change that the system cannot predict. Of course this is questionable. Because as much as we have certain "freedom" we still need to abide by the choices that the very game gives to us.

This takes us back to the question of who is the entity that speaks to us in this cryptic messages on day four? Who is this (allegedly) Laplace's Demon? and what are my personal arguments on why i don't think it's [REDACTED].

Let's start by breaking down the messages. I have them all decoded in my previous post along with a really easy (i hope so) explanation on how the cipher works.

"...ATTEMPTING TO REWRITE WHAT HAS ALREADY BEEN ORDAINED SINCE THE BEGINNING"

Here, the entity mentions the certainty of the past, but not the certainty of the future.

"...ATTEMPTING TO DIG UP THE ROOTS OF FATE AS THOUGH IT WERE A WEED AND PLANTING YOUR OWN CORRUPT SEEDLING IN ITS PLACE"

Here, the entity presumably refers to the idea of our (very limited) free will and how we're pushing the limits of the system (in this case by attempting to keep advancing on a route that supposedly leads nowhere else). To make this more clear, this entity speaks to us when we load the save file multiple times trying to keep advancing down that path when the course of action contemplated is that we should just stop and load another save file. We're persistent creatures, after all.

"PERHAPS WE ARE THE SAME, THEN"

Of course fucking ✨not✨

"I TOO FIND ENJOYMENT IN DISRUPTING THE VINES OF KISMET AND WATCHING HIM STRUGGLE"

Now i swear i never heard the word "kismet" before this day. But it seems to be some sort of archaic synonim of the word "fate". Although according to Cambridge Dictionary it is actually "A force that (some people) think controls what happens in the future, and is outside human control"

Also, this entity seems to be having its fun with Ren/REDACTED's struggles. It doesn't really see our unpredictability (yet) as a threat.

"TWAS I WHO GAVE HIM HIS GIFT, AS I DID WITH OTHERS..."

AND THIS

This right here boy oh boy.

I gave him his gift: A rant about human deities through the holy act of programming.

(As pretentious as this title is, please hear me out)

There's a really interesting article named Embracing Λόγος: Programming as Imitation of the Divine that basically says:

The programmer must begin by defining things – material or conceptual. “We are unable to reason or communicate effectively if we do not first make the effort to know what each thing is.” (Rayside, Campbell) By considering the ontological questions of the things in our world, in order to represent them accurately (and therefore ethically) in our programs, the programmer enters into the philosophical praxis. Next, the programmer adds layers of identity and logic on top of their ontological discovery, continuing in the praxis.

But the programmer takes it a step further – the outcome of their investigation is not only their immaterial thought but, in executing the program, the manifestation of their philosophical endeavor into material reality. The program choreographs trillions of elementary charges through a crystalline maze, harnessing the virtually infinite charge of the Earth, incinerating the remains of starlight-fueled ancient beings in order to realize the reasoning of its programmer. Here the affair enters into the realm of Ethics.

“The programmer is attempting to solve a practical problem by instructing a computer to act in a particular fashion. This requires moving from the indicative to the imperative: from can or may to should. For a philosopher in the tradition, this move from the indicative to the imperative is the domain of moral science.” (Rayside, Campbell) Any actions taken by the program are the direct ethical responsibility of the programmer.

Furthermore, the programmer, as the source of reason and will driving a program, manifesting it into existence, becomes in that instant the λόγος σπερματικός (“logos spermatikos”) incarnate. The programmer’s reason, tapped into the divine Reason (λόγος), is generated into existence in the Universe and commands reasonable actions of inanimate matter.

Basically the programmer goes through each and every stage a deity would go through when creating the universe.

AND GUESS WHO IS A PROGRAMMER IN 14DWY???

(Ren/REDACTED in case you don't know hehe)

When the entity says "I gave him his gift" i believe this is exactly what he is referring to. While a Laplace's Demon knows every particle in the physical systems (and assumes it's knowledge of said system is perfect), a programmer works with Operative Systems (Windows, Linux, Ubuntu).

As for us, the angel, the antagonist of the demon of Laplace, we are the chaos theory, the one that conceives the knowledge of the system as imperfect.

Btw the person manipulating some choices in certain moments? Totally Ren/REDACTED. As they have the power of messing with the game and are totally self-aware of this being a visual novel.

But who gave Ren/REDACTED this power? Was Ren/REDACTED so skillful that they were able to defy the laws of worldbuilding? Picture this: the equivalent would be a programmer in the real world so skillful that they become able to defy the reality itself.

I believe the responsible is this "all knowing entity" since it just said it itself "It was I who gave him his gift". After all he is, and i quote, "THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE, COMBINED INTO ONE" really ominous shit.

There are obvious gaps in this theory but it's the best i can do with the limited knowledge i have. I am not a physicist so i can't really dwell in formulas and numbers as much as i would. Maybe i'll interview a professor in college in the future but for now i hope this is enough.

Red hibiscus represents passion ❤️

14 Dates With You

Hmmm Redacted sure is acting suspicious today... Wonder what all these questions are for?

(quiz made in collaboration with the lovely @mosaickiwi <3)

Quotev

14 Questions With You

Characters and art related to 14 Days With You belong to cutiesai!

Taking pictures of redacted <3

More under

Hehehe got caught in the end

And free pfp <3 [loving his alt look]

everytime I see a shirtless Ren pic with those HUGE TITS, I remember this meme

crisp glass of water moodboard

my old redacted wip

decided to post this bc i love how i rendered his face 🥹 but i’ll let it stay wip for now

Little guys

Taken (Part 5/5)

Unedited, as all of these are. Took the easy way out bc I wanted them to reconcile lmao, ignore the fact that Ren would be fighting this way more. Ren and above image belong to @14dayswithyou

Summary: Angel and Ren have a heart-to-heart

4.2k words

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

I sit at the headboard of the bed, my chin resting on my knees as I consider the man anxiously perched at the opposite end. 

I let the silence simmer for a bit before breaking it, “Why did you drug me?”

Ren scratches at his jaw, “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself any further. Your stitches are still healing.”

I add, “Also it made it easier to transport me without having to deal with me struggling or alerting someone on the way back here, no?”

Ren shrugs, avoiding my eyes.

I roll my eyes, “Why didn’t you let me go into Violet’s apartment?”

He looks at me with a pout, “Like I said, you always take forever to talk to her, and I hadn’t seen you and was worried about you.”

I sigh, “That’s a great answer, Ren,” he seems to perk up a bit, “but now I want a truthful one,” and he slumps again.

He protests, “That is-!”

I hold a hand up, stopping him, “Ren, please, we’ve been over this. Are you really going to test the extent of my knowledge on every little thing? You’re great at gaslighting, but I’m not a canary in a mineshaft, I’m aware of what’s going on. And I swear to god if you say you’re not I’m going to throttle you.”

He looks at me, eyes welling with tears, “I- I don’t know what you want me to say, Angel. It’s like you already have this set idea of who I am and I don’t know how I’m supposed to convince you otherwise when you already think I’m a two-faced liar.”

He buries his face in his sleeves as his shoulders shake soundlessly. I watch with a blank expression, waiting for him to stop. He eventually does, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve, smearing his mascara in the process.

I tilt my head, still expressionless, “Damn, you’re really good at that. I probably would’ve caved if I didn’t have a whole file of evidence against you.”

He looks surprised, “You- you have a file?”

I scoff, “Of course not, why would I write that stuff down? The only thing I know for sure you can’t break into is my head. Well, metaphorically speaking at least, I’m sure you could crack my skull like an egg if you so chose, but that’s not the point. Why didn’t you let me go into Violet’s apartment? I don’t need your whole thought process, just a concise, truthful answer.”

Ren’s voice lowers, “I thought you were gonna call the police.”

I smile and nod, “Better answer. I was. Really thought I’d be able to throw you off long enough too, but alas.  I probably would’ve been better off insisting than trying to be honest, but oh well, I’ll still hazard my health to tell the truth. But what I’m really confused about is why I’m the one who’s trying to gain your trust right now.”

I pause, considering my last statement before adding, “Was the whole ‘pretend to be anyone but yourself’ decision your own idea, or did someone else instill that lesson?”

I see his eyes flash as I speak before returning to their carefully neutral state, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sigh deeply, considering the man before me. Eventually I come to a decision, looking down and speaking hesitantly, “Y’know what, I’m gonna tell you about something you keep reminding me of. It’s an old, old memory, so it’s probably warped beyond all recognition at this point, and it’s from a point in my childhood I remember almost nothing from but- ugh, whatever, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t need to be perfectly accurate.”

I glance up at Ren to make sure he’s still paying attention. Luckily he was, while also mimicking my pose and staring intently.

So I continue, “When I was a kid, I don’t remember how old, my home life got progressively worse and worse. It got to the point where I dreaded going home every night, so instead, I would spend time in this dingy little playground between school and my house. There was a little red plastic tunnel I would hide in, helpful for when it was raining. Anyway, there was this other kid that seemed to do the same thing, they- no- he. He hated when… yeah, well whatever- he would kinda lurk around the playground way later than was normal too. I thought he was neat, and I dunno, I guess I related to him. He would leave little presents in that tunnel for me sometimes, he even gave me a jacket for when it was cold. So I started doing the same.”

I pause, slightly surprised at the emerging memory, “I even gave him one of my favorite stuffies, damn. That was some devotion for like, six-year-old me, don’t think I would do that for anyone now. Anyway, ugh I’m rambling, this has a point I swear. So we became best friends, in my opinion at least. I mean, I had Leon too, but I never wanted to tell him anything about home, so I would just pretend to be happy around him all the time. This other kid-”

I go off on another tangent, trying to remember his name, “Shit if I just had any sort of fucking memory space for names- why do I keep associating him with that goddamn carpet in the school? I know his name wasn’t fucking rug or ground or flower or some shit, but it was like, associated with those? I think??? I’ll just call him- uhhhhh… I dunno, Redacted I guess, heh.

“So yeah, Redacted and I could just chill together, y’know? It seemed like he had some shit he was dealing with too, definitely worse than mine from the few things I could pick up on, even as a child. I swear there were multiple times he had blood on him, but whether it was his or not was hard to say. But he was a sweet kid. Even if he wouldn’t really talk about his situation, I didn’t wanna talk about mine either. We just sorta understood that shit was fucked up, and it was so nice just to have someone there who got it without having to explain or pretend.”

I lean against the backboard, looking at the ceiling, “But all good things have to come to an end, right? Well that happened for us when he gave me a ring – proposed even, I think. Problem was, Leon also happened to be around at the time- Oh yeah- I forgot to tell you- I’m already engaged.”

I giggle, raising the back of my hand and wiggling my fingers as though showing off a ring, before dropping my hand and ruefully staring at it. When I look up, I see Ren clutching the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt in the middle of his chest. Seems like he got emotionally invested, ha, all the better for me.

I continue my story, “Anyway, I think Leon thought Redacted was harassing me, so he threw away the ring and dragged me to school. I argued with him the whole way, hell, I might’ve even hit him, I was so mad. I went straight back to that playground once they let us out of school, and I scoured that entire place for hours that night. Every day after I hoped I would find the ring, just nestled under a toy or stair somewhere I hadn’t checked. But I never found it; and Redacted never showed up there again.”

I pause for a minute, closing my eyes and composing myself, “Sorry, I’ve never told anyone this before, guess I’m not as detached as I thought I was.”

I take a deep breath, “…So after that, the few times I did see Redacted in school he would run away. It’s my fault too obviously, we were both kids, I didn’t do everything I could to check on him and make sure he was okay, but I figured he hated me and didn’t want to see me after the first few times I tried and failed. Every time I saw him after that, he just looked worse and worse, and I don’t know when it happened, but eventually I saw him for the last time. I don’t even know if he even fucking survived that goddamn place. Given what I knew about his family, probably not.”

At this point, tears are streaming down my cheeks as I stay stony-faced, recounting the story of my childhood friend. Once I had finally gotten out of my house and had room to breathe, I remembered the one who helped get me through one of the toughest years. I realized he probably never made it past childhood soon after but shoved the realization deep down and tried to forget about it, not ready to process it.

I push on now, needing Ren to understand, “To this day, despite everything else that’s happened to me, that’s my biggest regret: not even being there for him when he deserved that and so much more. And I’m not going to let that happen to a friend again. You remind me of that kid so much, Ren, and I don’t know if it’s that similarity, or the three months we’ve spent together, but despite all your insane bullshit, I do still consider you a friend. So whatever the fuck you have going on, I need you to tell me honestly. I will do whatever I can to help and support a friend, but my patience is running thin and I’m not even entirely sure what you are to me anymore. I’ve been taken advantage of before, and I won’t be letting that happen again either.”

Once I finish saying all that needs to be said, I finally look back at Ren. He’s wearing an expression I’d never seen before, filled with more conflicting emotions than I could puzzle through. His eyes were filled with tears that had yet to fall, and the clenched fist on his chest, I realized, was not holding onto his shirt, but the necklace he always wore around his neck.

He speaks in a choked whisper, “Y’didn’t throw it away?”

I stare at him, confused and concerned, but also wary of another guilt trip, “Throw what away?”

“The ring?”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Of course not, why would I do that? That would be horribly cruel, and he was the only person I could really trust at the time. I also might’ve had a crush on him, but emotions are weird and we were kids and it’s been so long I don’t really remember. But that’s not the point, did you even listen to the whole point of that story?”

He stumbles on his words, “Yeah- no- I- I heard. I just- m’having a hard time believing it.”

I bristle at his words, “Are you calling me a fucking liar?!”

His eyes widen and he jolts backwards, “NO! No no nono, that’s not what I meant at all! I just can’t believe you remembered… everything… like that. I thought you hated m- um, him?”

I glare at him, “Ren, what the fuck are you implying?”

He shakily opens his palm to reveal the ring necklace laying there, “I took it back after you left, that’s why you couldn’t find it.”

I shake my head warily, “That’s not funny, Ren, there’s no way. Don’t-”

He jumps up off the bed, “Hold on.”

I sit, bewildered, as he runs off, not waiting long before I hear the light thudding of his footsteps returning. He breathlessly holds out a well-loved brown teddy bear to me, “He’s one of my most treasured possessions.”

I cautiously take it into my hands, looking over it carefully. Its fur was stringy and far ashier than I remember, as well as slightly bald in some places, but still has the same eyes invariably covered by fur, same construction, and clearly over a decade old.

I looked between the bear and Ren in disbelief before slowly shifting to meet him at the side of the bed. He looks back at me anxiously, backing up a step to give me room to stand. I close the gap, wrapping both of my arms securely around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug, grabbing handfuls of the back of his shirt like he would disappear if I let go.

I whisper incredulously, “You’re alive???”

Ren leans into me, resting his chin on my head with a small chuckle, “Last I checked, yeah. ‘Preciate y’worrying about me though.”

My face crumbles as the tears I had finally got under control sprang free again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Ren pulls back slightly, confused, “F’what?”

I lean my forehead onto his chest, not wanting him to see my face as I speak, “For being a shitty friend, for letting you go, for not defending you better, for not being there for you, fuck, just- everything. I’m sorry, you deserved so much better.”

Ren shakes his head, pulling me back in and speaking vehemently, “No, Angel, y’have nothing t’be sorry about. Y’didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the only one who didn’t do anything wrong. M’sorry f’being a stupid kid and running away.”

I sniffle, “You weren’t a stupid kid, you were smart as fuck, even back then. Just insecure as fuck too, but I have a feeling I know the bastard who’s responsible for that.” My hands tighten as I remember the one time I followed him from the playground to a trailer park, only to watch as he waited for almost an hour, knocking intermittently on the locked door. When it finally opened, a man flecked with blood stepped out, already screaming, and yanked him inside by the arm. The horrible sounds I heard that night caused me to sprint all the way home, practically thankful for the father I had. A feeling I had never come close to experiencing before or since. Fury builds in me as I think of all that Ren probably dealt with at such a young age.

Until his voice pulls me out of my thoughts, “Are y’alright Angel? You’re shaking.”

I glance up in surprise and loosen my grip on him, “Oh, sorry, yeah, I’m fine just… plotting murder.”

Ren’s eyebrows raise, “Mine?”

I laugh, shaking my head, “Ha! No, no, its- just ignore me.”

His head tilts to the side with a loving smile, “I could never.”

I lightly punch him, embarrassed, “Shut up.”

He laughs and pulls me back into a tight hug which I reciprocate. Catching a glimpse of his hair from my position, I hold a piece out with the arm still around him.

“Wasn’t your hair black? Why’d you make it pink?”

I feel him stiffen slightly as he seems to consider his options before answering quietly, “Thought you’d like it better.”

I squint at him, “Do you like it pink?”

He fires back, “Do you?”

I glare, “It’s your hair.”

He hums, “Mhmm, do you like it?”

I roll my eyes, pulling back so I can squish his face in my hands, “I think you’d look hot with any hair color and should choose what you like best.” Fuck. I really am a simp.

His face immediately flushes red and he mumbles, “But you like Haruko…”

I look at him in disbelief, “You really made a whole persona based on an anime character I liked? I mean, that’s what it seemed like, but I thought I was crazy for thinking that.”

He once again misses the point and focuses on an insignificant detail, “Liked? You don’t like him anymore?”

I sigh, “Do I really need to go get bread slices? Make an idiot sandwich? Of course not, I have an absolutely fucking insane boyfriend now, why would I want an anime character?”

Ren pouts at me, “M’not insane.”

I laugh, “Oh I don’t believe that for a second. That much trauma doesn’t create a healthily functioning adult, I would know.” I then realize how abrupt and harsh my words might sound and quickly course correct, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like- uh, let’s talk about something else for now. Though actually, that does bring me back to an important point.”

I pull away, sitting back on the bed and bringing him to sit opposite me. I look him dead in the eyes, “How many people have you killed, Ren?”

He answers immediately, “Just one.”

I keep my eyes on him, “Ren, I am giving you the opportunity to come clean now. I won’t be so forgiving if I find things out on my own.”

He avoids my eyes, “Why? What would you do if it was more than one?”

I maintain an even gaze, “That would depend on who, why, and how you killed.”

There’s a long silence before he speaks again, “…Two.”

I insist, “Are you sure? You seemed very comfortable using that sledgehammer.”

He internally curses his carelessness for the millionth time but responds, “I use it in rage rooms a lot.”

When I realize that is the only answer I’ll be getting out of him, I pivot my questioning, “Okay. Who was the other person and why did you kill them?”

He side-eyes me, “Would you care if you didn’t know them?”

My eyebrows furrow, “Obviously? The reason would be the main factor then.”

He pauses for a long moment, “You did know them.”

I almost laugh at the pivot, but realize he’s still manipulating his answers based on my cues, which is sobering enough to maintain a straight face, “Okay, are you going to tell me who it was? Or when it was?”

He stares intently at his fingernails, picking idly at various minor hangnails, “About six years ago.”

My eyes widen, “You were sixteen?!”

He looks defensive, “And a half.”

I smother a smile of amusement and frustration at the pointless addition and gesture for him to go on. But before he can, I come to another realization, “Wait, then I was seventeen almost eighteen. Holy shit did you kill my stepfather?!”

He doesn’t respond, which gives me my answer. I immediately slap a hand over my mouth to cover the grin that was growing on my face. When my stepfather left that night and never returned, I had assumed he drunk himself either to death, or to do something that caused him to die. I suppose now the fact that they never found a body was suspicious, especially since he apparently never made it to any of his regular bars.

Coincidentally, that was the night I had resolved to kill him myself. I remember waiting by the door for hours with a kitchen knife, aching all over from my bruises and with blood dripping from the many cuts caused by him shattering a bottle against the table I was taking cover under. In the end, I had to give up and go back to bed before my mother woke up and started to make excuses for him again.

Now, as my grin grew wider and laughter bubbled up my throat, I had to add another hand to my mouth to keep it all in. I didn’t want him to see how dementedly happy I was about that man’s death or encouraging him to continue to do such things in the future. But when he saw me shaking with wide eyes and covering my mouth, he must have assumed the worst.

“Angel, I’m sorry, I had to! He was a danger to everyone around him, especially you, he-”

I choke out a quick, “Shut up,” before returning to the increasingly impossible job of keeping my mirth in. Eventually I fail, as a violent snort comes out unbidden. After that I surrender entirely, shifting my grasp from my face to my stomach as I tip over and guffaw into the sheets of the bed. I lay there laughing for almost two minutes, probably sounding increasingly more insane, before it finally levels off and I begin to calm back down.

I continue laying face down until I have fully stopped and only then sit up with a straight face, “Okay, ignoring that, how did you kill- ugh no, don’t ask that. Violence isn’t the answer. Violence isn’t the answer, violence isn’t the answer.” I repeat the words over, trying to make them stick.

Ren seems confused, “Are you telling that to me or yourself?”

I temple my hands in front of my face with an expression of restraint, “Yes.”

Ren hesitantly asks, “So… are we good?”

I raise an eyebrow, “About the murder? Yeah, if you’ve told me the truth I don’t really care about either of those- well, you probably didn’t need to kill that other guy, but meh, I don’t really blame you. Glad you’re discerning about it at least.”

I see the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and I make a quick amendment, “That doesn’t mean I condone murder. It’s technically wrong most of the time, so you can only resort to that in life-or-death situations.”

His mouth turns downwards again and I scoff, “Hey, if I don’t get to murder then you don’t get to murder. Consider yourself lucky that you managed to get to that bastard of a man before I did, otherwise we’d be even right now.”

I sigh, bringing my fingers to massage my temples from the massive headache that had been building this whole time. Ren immediately perks up, “Are you okay? D’you need painkillers? Water? Food?”

I bring my hand up, “Quiet, preferably.”

I immediately regret my words as Ren falls quiet, not protesting or yelling as I was used to from others. I amend my words, “Sorry, that was mean, I’m just- ugh my fucking head.”

Ren nods and leaves the room. I watch him leave with widened eyes, not expecting them to just abandon me like that. I want to call out, but my pride seals my throat, choking me from voicing my desires as per usual. After all, that would just reveal my own weaknesses. So I sit and stare blankly as tears well up in my eyes, increasing the pressure in my head even more.

I furiously blink them back, cursing myself, whether for making Ren leave or wanting him to stay, I wasn’t sure. I pull the glossy sheets over my head and collapse back into the mattress, burying my face into the pillow in an attempt to beat back my headache. Only to have my hip spike in pain as well. Just my luck.

It doesn’t take long before I hear footsteps walk into the room, somehow spontaneously sounding at the entrance to the room as if he spawned in at the doorway. I don’t move, not wanting him to see the tears in my eyes. Stupid.

A soft, familiar voice inquires quietly, “Angel? I got you some water and advil.”

A hand gently rests on my shoulder blade, carefully sliding up and down in a comforting pattern. I stay still, enjoying the feeling I hadn’t felt since I was a very young child. Being cared for, safe. Crazy how this murderer was capable of making me feel more secure and loved than my “parents” ever did.

I groan, turning my head and bringing the sheets down enough to look at Ren blearily. Their eyes are full of sympathy as they hand me the painkillers. I take them, evaluating the pills to make sure they matched the container before downing two with a gulp of water. From the same type of glass I had shattered earlier, I notice with another twinge of guilt.

Ren gives me a soft smile, “Why don’t you go back t’sleep for now? It’s about bedtime anyway, and you’re recovering from a multitude of things.”

I mumble, “Mostly y’fault. We arn’ done talkin’.”

Their eyebrows furrow, “I know, m’sorry. But we can finish tomorrow, okay? I don’t think y’really in a state t’continue. I’ll leave the water here, just yell if y’need anything.”

As they stand to leave, I act without thinking, reaching out and grabbing their wrist. He turns, confused, but patiently waits for me to form my words.

“…Don’t…leave me.”

His eyes light up and he kneels next to the bed, getting to eye level with me and grasping my hand tightly, “I’ll never leave you, Angel. Never again.”

I pull them towards me, and after confirming my intention, they instantly succumb to my request, joining me under the covers. They pull me into their chest, both of our arms wrapped around the other securely, our legs tangling as we attempt to get as close as possible. I push all of the red flags out of my mind, I could deal with those in the morning. For now, we indulge in the feeling of comfort and safety we couldn’t find anywhere else in the world.

me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU