Not over disney jam-packing season 3 in three episodes? Here's a longer, episodic series of it! More jam packed with feels for you heart!!
Includes:
•References to Show
•Fan interpretations of POVs
•More in-depth interpretations of drama
•More chara...
Don't forget to comment, vote each chapter and follow hehehoohoo 🦉 —
Hunter
Gus is knocked out cold. Me? I'm seated on my sleeping bag. I'm exhausted, but my anxiety is fighting the urge to sleep. Too much is going on.
Flapjack notices this—he hops and pecks.
"I can't sleep—I mean, psh, what?" I explain in a whisper. As I do, I scoot away from Gus to prevent him from eavesdropping. I flail my hands with each question: "Your uncle secretly being an abusive, massive supervillian? You being a clone of his undead brother? Everything you've believed in—within your entire life—being a lie? I mean, Titan, am I even technically 'alive'? Can my body even function outside the Boiling Isles?"
Flapjack looks up at me, then drops his head to nuzzle my thumb. He tweets again—much softer this time. It seems as though he's trying to comfort me. I scoop him up and pull him close to my face. He nuzzles onto my cheek and I grin.
"Thanks Flapjack."
I pause at the sound of rumbling upstairs.
"..Okay, but maybe we can inspect the area just in case?"
Luz
The ceiling is blank. I haven't slept since that brief talk with mom. Home. I'm here. I reach out to the ceiling, only for it to drop back to my chest.
I shuffle on the mattress of my bed. Left. Right. On my back again. On my stomach? Flip the pillow. Shoot. Warm again. I stuff my face into my pillow; my scream comes out muffled.
For a second, I hear the sound of a creaking mattress beside me. I look to my left to check if Amity woke up, only to find her fast asleep in her own bed.
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I turn to lay on my back again. I kick my quilted blanket to the ends of the bed. All the movement has wrinkled up the fitted sheet, causing chaos in what an earlier Luz would've considered PEAK comfort.
I feel hot, but cold. I'm not sick; just restless. My mind is racing with a million things right now—mamá, Eda, King, Hooty, the Collector..my friends. Yet, all these issues are all connected by a red string—one that encapsulates my mind: I caused this all. Oh god, is it narcissitic to say that?
Gah, too much self pity! Just be quiet brain! This won't change anything. Just...stay positive!
I listen to the new wall clock (replacement for the alarm clock that broken under mysterious circumstances) tick away.
