Here for the internal tickling, staying for the titty beer. Lvl 30+ . She/They. Posting my own art, writing, reblogging all sorts & basically shit posting.
Chapters are laid out below, along with the AO3 link.
Klaus Hargreeves has always lived on the edge—of addiction, of life, of his own unravelling. But when he's brutally assaulted by someone he trusted, the thin line he walks finally crumbles beneath him. With no waypoint but a handful of pills and a syringe, he spirals into a silence that ends up too heavy to carry by himself.
His brother Diego finds him half-dead and haunted. He brings him home in a last-ditch effort to save what’s left of The Seance. But Diego’s not whole either. Still wrestling with his own trauma and desperate to be better—for his partner Ora, for Klaus, for himself—he’s barely holding together the new life he’s trying to build.
Shotgun Opera is a story about what comes after the worst night of your life. About bruised bodies, broken minds, and the kind of survival that doesn’t come clean. Gritty, visceral, and unapologetically raw, this is not a story of redemption—but it just might be the beginning.
[See beneath line break for individual links & Warnings]
Read on A03
Warnings
NSFW Strict warnings for r*pe/non-con, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, s*elf-Injury, S*icide, discussions of various mental health issues, s*x work in various forms, s*xually transmitted diseases etc.
If you're not comfortable with any of the above, this isn't the right option for you.
I hate the person my job, specifically my boss, turns me into. But I'm trapped. So the only thing to do now is give up, let the place go to shit and concentrate on my writing.
Chapters are laid out below, along with the AO3 link.
Klaus Hargreeves has always lived on the edge—of addiction, of life, of his own unravelling. But when he's brutally assaulted by someone he trusted, the thin line he walks finally crumbles beneath him. With no waypoint but a handful of pills and a syringe, he spirals into a silence that ends up too heavy to carry by himself.
His brother Diego finds him half-dead and haunted. He brings him home in a last-ditch effort to save what’s left of The Seance. But Diego’s not whole either. Still wrestling with his own trauma and desperate to be better—for his partner Ora, for Klaus, for himself—he’s barely holding together the new life he’s trying to build.
Shotgun Opera is a story about what comes after the worst night of your life. About bruised bodies, broken minds, and the kind of survival that doesn’t come clean. Gritty, visceral, and unapologetically raw, this is not a story of redemption—but it just might be the beginning.
[See beneath line break for individual links & Warnings]
Read on A03
Warnings
NSFW Strict warnings for r*pe/non-con, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, s*elf-Injury, S*icide, discussions of various mental health issues, s*x work in various forms, s*xually transmitted diseases etc.
If you're not comfortable with any of the above, this isn't the right option for you.
Klaus Hargreeves is down and out when he finds himself in the arms of a man who takes advantage of his desperation. Suddenly Ben finds pulled back from the void to witness an horrific attack that ends up throwing Klaus’ train completely off the tracks. But harsh realisations, dark intrusive thoughts and the fear of following through all point them in the direction of Diego, the only living sibling Klaus’ feels he can trust. But things have changed for him too. He’s learning to navigate a life with his partner, Eudora, and cope with loss of his ‘dream’ job.
Can they all work together to concur their demons? Can Klaus get sober once and for all? And what happens when an unexpected spanner is thrown into the mix?
Warnings [Please Heed!]
Drug Addiction / Drug Abuse / Alcohol Abuse / Prostitution / Rape&Non-Con / S**f-Injury / S*icide Intent / Psychosis / HIV & AIDS
Chapter Summary:
We see the fallout from Klaus' difficult diagnosis, and the medium falls into old, self-sabotaging habits.
It goes without saying that the news of Klaus’ diagnosis was met with a crude mixture of shock and anger, specifically from Diego. Four had known it would go poorly regardless of how ‘adjusted’ his brother had become. No one ever liked to hear that their sibling had a life-threatening disease, and worse still, one they took no measures to avoid contracting. Perhaps if it had been cancer, then the story would be a little different. Maybe even the reaction too. But HIV? That one was all on Klaus’ numerous unprotected encounters, be it with the needle or a bedfellow.
Ora tried to defuse things. She used her indoor voice to try and bring Diego’s to a similar level. But it was no good. The man was practically burning a hole in the already worn tiles, his feet stomping heavily as he paced up and down the length of the kitchen. Flint had long since left for the safety of the couch, the dog's fear of Diego's temper evident in the way he held his tail as he fled.
“Jesus Christ, Klaus.” Number Two pinched at the bridge of his nose, “How can you just sit there and not show any fucking reaction? You have HIV! Don’t you get how serious this is?”
The most Klaus could do was flinch at the man’s voice. He knew that Diego expected him to cry, or scream or, at the very least, show some sort of emotion besides total numbness. But there was nothing there. The space between his ribs was empty. Not even his stomach twisted with sober anxiety. His face was blank, staring ahead, wide-eyed and frowning; Completely frozen.
Maybe it was the shock? Or maybe it was the fact that he’d spent all afternoon alone, curled inward on himself and sobbing. Surely his brother could see his swollen, puffy cheeks? Surely he could see that there were no more tears left to shed? Only exhaustion remained.
"Can you hear me!? Are you even listening?" Diego slammed his fist on the counter.
Klaus squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth together. If he didn’t open them, maybe Diego would let up? He listened as Ora scrambled for control.
“Screaming about this isn’t helping Diego. Remember what your therapist said about reacting to things? Between stimulus -”
“Fuck that, Ora! My anger is fucking valid!"
“But it’s not helpful. It wasn’t helpful a few nights ago, and it isn’t helpful now! You’re just throwing your weight around, and it’s scaring everyone, including Flint. ”
Klaus' eyes fluttered open, careful to avoid looking at his brother and Ora. Instead, he directed a pleading look towards Ben, who nodded and left the room, already aware of what Number Four was asking.
With Ben gone to check on the dog, Klaus felt it was time to put a stop to Diego's war dance before things went any further.
He cleared his throat, "I get that you’re pissed off, Dee. And, yeah, maybe I’m not showing you how fucked up this makes me feel, but this is a whole crock of shit I didn’t see coming. So excuse me if I’m not reacting exactly how you want me to.” The words came out a little harsher than he’d expected, each one becoming progressively more venomous.
"What do you mean you didn't see this coming? You were fucking everything and sharing needles, and somehow you didn't think that maybe safety was a priority? What? Did you think you were special? That it didn't count for you because -"
"I didn't think anything, that's the problem!" Klaus spat, his blood suddenly boiling, "Isn't that obvious? You think I haven't been driving myself crazy thinking about how much of an idiot I've been?!"
"Don't play the victim card -"
"I'm not! I'm being fucking honest! Isn't that what you wanted?"
Diego’s brow deepened, his jaw clenched. Klaus swallowed thickly and waited. He was certain that he was about to receive an earful of loud, but was met only with the narrowing of his brother's eyes.
"Was this some sort of twisted way for you to kill yourself?"
Ora gasped, "Diego-"
"I have to know, Ora." Diego shot her a look before bringing his gaze back to Klaus, "Was it?"
Klaus didn't know how to answer. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he thought, really thought. Was it? Had he subconsciously allowed this to happen in some sordid attempt to die?
The ticking of the wall clock became the only sound in the room. Next door, Klaus heard Ben soothing Flint; he heard the soft whines of the ghoul of the stairs; he heard Ora's nails tapping nervously on her mug.
"I...I don't know." He finally managed, his mouth suddenly dry, the venom lost in his voice.
Diego growled, "I fucking knew it." He shook his head and returned to pacing up and down the floor, "Jesus, Klaus."
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today is world mental health day 🩷 writing saved me when i felt like i had nothing else. when everything was too heavy, stories were the one place i could still breathe. starting nondelphic a little over a year ago gave me something to build, a space where i could put that love for writing and connect with people who feel the same.
mental illness doesn’t make you broken. so many of us go through it, and you’re not alone in the struggle. sometimes writing is escape, sometimes it’s survival, sometimes it’s the only way to make sense of your own head. and that’s okay.
to everyone out there still trying to put words on the page, whether it’s poetry, fiction, or just a messy journal entry — you’re doing more than you think. and if you’re here, you’re already making it through ♡
I've been so inspired by 'The Starving Saints' that I want to write a medieval AU of Umbrella Academy.
Have I stated planning it? Maybe. Will it be a love story about a Knight and a disgraced, estranged son of a nobleman? Maybe. Can you guess who the two main honchos are gonna be? Probably, I'm predictable.
Anyway. If you wanna be a brainstorming partner, I'm here for it! Otherwise I'm gonna waste my time on another long fic about my favourite addict.
