#Broken Friendship

[snail-edits]

[pyaariposting]

yaaroñ ki yaar bnke kya paaya maine, azeeyatoñ mein khudko tanha paaya maine,

jo mehfile aabaad thi awaaz se meri, unhi mehfiloñ ko veeran paya maine,

mere labo'ñ pe jinka naam tha jama, ab unko sirf apni duaoñ mein paaya maine,

jinke naam ke dave kiya krti thi maiñ, unki seerat ko anjaan paaya maine,

jaha khud ko awwal smjha maine, wahi khud ko aakhiri paaya maine,

ab milkar bhi wo baat nahi, purani dosti ko gum paaya maine,

kya kuch socha tha, aur kya kuch paaya maine!

~ me (this was my first ever self written poetry)

[coffee-scripts]

There’s a universe where we burn our past. Out there, there’s a place where we decide, together, to burn everything that hurt you and that hurt me; everything we did that wronged us and each other. Where we ask for our forgiveness, so we start over, moving forward with the love that prevailed and setting behind our proud nature. Where I decide to forget the resentment that your name holds and I receive it as new. A universe where I ask what your favorite color is, even if I already know why orange is your favorite. Where I ask when’s your birthday, even if it lives engraved in my memory. Where I ask about your story, even if I was part of it already.

Somewhere where we forgive and burry, for it to help us grow and continue, embracing new words and new promises, new ideas and new experiences, with the soul that I already know.

And sometimes I wish for that universe to be this one; I wish for it to be this reality, right here, right where we stand. But I guess I’ll never really know. I’m in no place to reach out, so I keep wishing that you do.

A love letter to you,

if you ever come across my thoughts

[pahaadonkidhoop]

you never really move on from a broken friendship, do you?

you find them or references of/to them in every little thing around you, in every other person you meet; they never really leave your mind, do they?

a broken friendship leaves fragments in your heart and stays there so the heart sort of grows around the stabs, never completely really, and you're just left with that constant hurt, a stabbing ache, and that's all there's left of it.

add to it that you're the person who fucked it all up, multiple times, and that now it may just really all be over, and the realisation that maybe now there really is nothing left to be done.

you realise that all the memories that you cherish, that are soo amazing for you, maybe they really weren't anything for them, that maybe they never really had fun with you thecway you did, that maybe they never felt the amount of comfort and trust around you that you did around them.

[listmaker-lastcity]

Yeah, I want to say it, I don't care. I hate Shuro. I absolutely do not believe he and Laios ever could or should reconcile.

Why?

Recently, I've had someone pull this "I've always hated you" bullshit. I considered this person one of my best friends, considered him like unto a brother. He told me he hated me, that I made him miserable, that he never wanted to speak to me or be near me again.

This has cut me off from my other friends, kicked off a major depressive episode, and caused stress that caused an immune crash that's wrecked me for the last two weeks.

Some things are not forgivable.

[sgnileef]

I wish I could be the person who didn't let things get to them. Instead, I'm the person who needs others to know they hurt me. I need to make my pain heard.

Not for an apology, not even for closure.

I just need to be heard.

[shree-narayani]

My side

We don't talk anymore.... We pass by, like we never knew each other at all

You have a new friend But I'm just as shy You've moved on already But I'm still here

All the memories we had Are fading away with time

you are not with me to make some new dimes

I look at the pair of earrings you gifted me that day When we used to run along and together put on a play

Roses were red And the sky felt happy We chatted for hours And nothing looked shabby

Both of us had our own battles In which the other never had a character to portray

Then the battle ended.... And our lives turned grey...

How we broke apart Maybe I don't know I know the story of my side But that's not the whole show

[thoughtsofapessimistttt]

Apologies don’t mean anything, if they don’t change their ways

[ourpoizn]

Rebecca Solnit, from “The Blue of Distance (III)”, A Field Guide to ‘Getting Lost / Susanna Majuri  - Red, 2012, Mirror, 2010, Metsä (Forest), 2009

[silverstarsimuran]

Боль предательства/The pain of betrayal

RUS: Если бы только Соник и Найн поняли друг друга и не поссорились, думая о том, что другой его предал, возможно не было бы той битвы и почти полного разрушения мультивселенной…

ENG: If only Sonic and Nine had understood each other and not quarreled, thinking that the other had betrayed him, perhaps there would not have been that battle and the almost complete destruction of the multiverse…

[thehappiliysadgirl]

If you didn't matter to me ,I would never complain of how cold and distant we became now.

[ramblings-of-the-notes-app]

Broken friendships

Friendships can end and they hurt just as bad as a breakup…only it’s slower and more painful

You can feel them slowly fading away from your life and know that a single thing might glue you back together.

But you refrain because deep down, you want them to go away…you want them to feel the hurt of losing you

And that twisted thought is what hurts you the most.

[coffee-scripts]

You made me promise to stay

And I did, I did everything I could

But at the end of the day, it was you who stabbed me

And it was you who left me to bleed

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Betrayal and a Failed Attempt at Repentance

Context: Rowan, Victoria, and Ollie have finally completed the device. Now all they have left to do is find a weak spot in the shield and finally escape the city. But a traitor is in their midst, and she makes her move.

Originally posted on Pinterest here!

Masterpost

TW: acid, betrayal, paranoia, anger

Rowan snapped awake in the dead of night. Unease rolled through him like a wave of water. It was strong tonight, much stronger than it had been for the past week. Something was wrong.

 He opened his eyes, searching the darkness of his room for the threat.  Nothing. Not that he could see, anyway. Perhaps the threat was invisible, hidden, or in a different room. Either way, something malicious occupied the hideout.

Rowan sat up and reached for his handgun on the shelf next to his bed. His fingers brushed against something wet and sticky. He jerked his hand away, cursing as the substance hissed on his skin. Bubbling slime? How…

The unease spiked as an unpleasant thought occurred. Rowan leaned over the side of the bed, gritted his teeth, and brushed his pinky against the floor. The bubbling slime coating the wood sizzled at the contact with his finger. Rowan pulled his hand back and hurriedly wiped it away on his trousers, the only article of clothing he had bothered to leave on before turning in.

We’re under attack.

That was his first thought, brought on by the massive wave of unease that threatened to drown him. The wave was stamped down by Rowan’s second thought, that an attacker wouldn’t have snuck in and covered his room in bubbling slime just to leave again. They would have tried to slit his throat.

Unless….

Unless they knew how his talent worked. Unless they knew that the intention of harming him would kickstart his talent and give them away. Not impossible, he’d been messing around long enough to get the attention of some big-name villains.

Which meant he was still in danger, even once he managed to get out of his room. Who knows what the rest of the hideout looked like? Victoria and Ollie, you’d better be where you should.

Rowan couldn’t walk over the bubbling slime. To do so would leave his bare feet with painful chemical burns at best. He couldn’t risk that, he might need to fight his way out. At worst? Well…there would be nothing left to get killed by Whisper on the next full moon.

Kneeling on his mattress, Rowan pulled the blankets and sheets off his bed and did his best to fold them in such a way that the bubbling slime wouldn’t seep through. The darkness did not help, and he didn’t dare risk a light. When exposed to a light source, bubbling slime has been known to spontaneously burst into flames. He had no idea the extent of how much covered his room, and the risk wasn’t one he was willing to take.

Rowan carefully laid the first of his blankets on the ground and stood upon it, taking care to step lightly in case he needed to retreat back to his bed. He tiptoed across the length and set down the second. He didn’t even need to use the third one to get to the door.

Not taking any chances, Rowan used the remaining blanket to turn the knob. The door swung open silently, and he peeked through, searching for attackers. The hallway was dead silent. Reaching through the doorway, Rowan brushed his hand across the tile floor, braced for the burn of bubbling slime. It didn’t come.

Stepping out into the hallway, Rowan held the remaining blanket like a coil of rope, although he wasn’t entirely certain how he was going to use it as an effective weapon against multiple assailants.

Moving swiftly but in silence, Rowan tapped on Victoria’s door. No answer. He tried the knob. Unlocked. Pushing the door open, Rowan checked for bubbling slime before moving inside. It appeared that only his room had been covered with the chemical.

“Victoria?”

No answer. Rowan squinted in the darkness. Her bed was empty, the blankets arranged neatly as always. No sign of a struggle, but her own guns were gone. She must have gotten up on her own. But why…?

“Rowan? What are you doing?”

Rowan whirled around, blanket held up menacingly at the unexpected noise, but lowered it when he saw Ollie standing in the doorway in his pajamas, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He yawned. “I thought I heard something, but it’s just you I guess.”

“Victoria’s gone.”

Ollie froze. “She’s what?” He reached over and flicked the light on. Rowan grunted and covered his eyes, allowing them to adjust. When he pulled his hands away, it only reaffirmed what he’d already discovered: his best friend’s absence.

“My room’s also covered in bubbling slime,” Rowan continued, exchanging the blanket for the bo staff hanging on the wall above Victoria’s neatly made bed. “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary in your room?”

Ollie shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not that I would notice if there was, short of freaking bubbling slime.”

Rowan shrugged, moving past them back out into the hallway. “Your room’s one of the nine pits of hell the day after I force you to clean it. I doubt an intruder could find anything even if they wanted to.”

“Do you think Victoria went after whoever put bubbling slime in your room?”

“She isn’t that stupid,” Rowan snapped, no longer bothering with stealth. The main room of the hideout was empty unless the intruder was hiding behind the kitchen counter. Which was a spot only an idiot would choose. “Besides,” he said, checking back there anyway, “Victoria’s not one to go rushing in without backup. That was Sam’s job, remember?”

Ollie didn’t say anything to that. Sam got herself captured a couple of months back, in the job that eventually led them to the device that would solve Rowan’s problems. Ollie still blamed himself for her getting caught, even though he wasn’t as skilled as he was now. Sam’s talent had been increased speed, agility and reflexes, but when one faced multiple assailants, there was only so much a talent could do.

Rowan swallowed. “Look, Ollie, what happened to Sam wasn’t your fault, okay? None of us saw…saw…the ambush coming. And in my position, she would tell you the same thing, okay?”

Ollie nodded, staring at the ground. “...if you don’t think Victoria went after the intruder, where do you think she went?”

Rowan tightened his grip on the bo staff. He had just been thinking that himself. There was no sign of a struggle, and whoever had left the bubbling slime had obviously done it to slow him down, not to outright kill him. Neither Ollie’s nor Victoria’s rooms had been touched. Rowan instinctively reached for his necklace, only to stop short and belt out a string of curses.

“What’s wrong?” Ollie asked, wincing at the volume. He was sensitive to noise, a side effect of his power, an odd variety of selective hearing which made spying a perfect occupation for them.

Rowan felt around at his neck for a few seconds, cementing the knowledge that his necklace really wasn’t there. “The key,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “the key to the safe is gone.”

The look on Ollie’s face was a priceless combination of confusion, anger, and shock. “B…but how? Wouldn’t you have noticed them stealing it off your neck?”

Rowan’s expression darkened. “No. Whoever did this is good at their job. Bubbling slime to slow me down but wouldn’t threaten me directly. Probably entered the building without the intention of harming me, that’s how you get around my talent.”

He spun and stalked towards the painting that hung in the living space of the main room. As far as he could tell, it had not been touched. But that was, most certainly, not true. Rowan lifted the painting off the wall and eyed the safe that lay behind it with a critical eye. It was closed, but the keyhole was sideways. It had been unlocked.

The wood on the bo staff creaked, and Rowan loosened his grip before it snapped in half. He opened the safe. “...no…” The word came out as a plea, as if asking would make what lay before him an illusion.

It was not. Rowan reached inside the safe and picked up his necklace with the simple bead, small vial of poison, and the key to the safe. The actual contents of the safe were nowhere in sight. The device, their only chance of outsmarting Whisper, was gone. Stolen.

“It’s really gone, isn’t it?” Ollie murmured, like saying it softly would make the words untrue. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Victoria,” her name left Rowan’s lips before he could stop himself, stop and consider the implications of what he was saying. “She’s gone. And she took the device with her.”

Ollie gasped softly. “She…she wouldn’t.”

“Think about it, Ollie!” Rowan snapped. “She’s been acting off all week, ever since she got back from the solo mission. Whisper must’ve, I don’t know, brainwashed her or something so that he could get ahold of the device before we could use it. And Victoria knows how to get around my talent.”

“Can Whisper even do that? Brainwash someone?”

Rowan slipped the cord back over his head, allowing the familiar weight to ground him. “It’s the only plausible explanation. Victoria would never betray us of her own accord.”

Because if she had…Victoria was Rowan’s closest friend, the person he could trust to watch his back. And if Rowan couldn’t trust Victoria…he couldn’t trust anyone.

Victoria knocked on the door two days later. Rowan had been sitting in the main room flipping a thin piece of metal between his fingers. Every so often he’d run his fingers over the symbol etched into it. Whisper’s mark. He’d seen enough of them on Whisper’s lackeys. But to find one in Victoria’s room?

Rowan had gone through and searched her room once he’d cleaned up the bubbling slime. At first he had only been looking for possible evidence left behind by the thief who’d taken the device and must’ve kidnapped her too. His other theory.

But in light of the mark, and several hours of thinking, Rowan had come to a conclusion that filled him with fury because of how obvious it was.

Ollie answered the door, froze, and immediately slammed it shut. “Rowan! Victoria’s back!”

Rowan jumped to his feet and sprinted across the room to the door, throwing it open. Victoria flinched back a step, hands gripping the strap of her bag. “Where have you been?” he shouted.

Victoria looked at the floor, at the ancient worn carpet that had been there longer than any of them had been alive. “Hi, Rowan. Ollie.”

“Bubbling slime in my room? Device gone? And you just show back up as if nothing happened?” Rowan yelled, shaking slightly. He held up Whisper’s mark. “Don’t lie to me, I figured it out.”

Victoria’s eyes darted from the floor to see what he was referring to. When she saw the thin piece of metal she swallowed. “Rowan, I…”

“What did he offer you? Money? Power? Safety? Why are you back?” he demanded, hands squeezing the doorframe in his anger.

She returned her gaze to the carpet. “Your life, Rowan. I traded the device for your life.” She slowly pulled open her back and reached inside. When she withdrew her hand, it held the device. Broken into pieces.

Rowan clenched his jaw and threw Whisper’s mark at her feet. It bounced once with a ringing sound from the impact. “You’re insane,” he hissed, “if you ever thought Whisper would let me survive the next full moon. He wants nothing more than for my blood to be spilled on that night. We all know this!”

“I realized that…after he destroyed it…” Victoria said softly, “and I thought…if I brought the pieces back…”

“What?” Rowan demanded, “ That I would forgive you and we would fix it? It doesn’t work like that, Victoria! That device was our only chance at possibly getting out of here alive, and you destroyed it!”

Victoria pursed her lips, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I have more than the device, if that isn’t enough. I have information, the—”

“No!” Rowan cut her off before she could finish. “How do I know I can trust you? I trusted you before, and now look where that got me! Leave, Victoria. Leave and don’t come back.”

Victoria inhaled sharply, almost as if to say something in response, but no sound came out of her open mouth. The pieces of the device slipped out of her hand and thudded to the carpet. She turned on her heel and left.

Rowan waited until he could no longer hear her receding footsteps before stooping and gathering up the broken pieces of the device. Whisper’s mark remained where he had thrown it.

“Is that…” Ollie asked, peering over Rowan’s shoulder at the device. He whistled softly. “He really did a number on it, didn’t he?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Rowan growled, unceremoniously depositing the pieces on the kitchen counter, “until I’ve come up with a new plan.” With that, Rowan left the main room, practically sprinted down the hallway, and shut himself in his room.

Alone, Rowan allowed himself to sink to the floor, overwhelmed by his helplessness. That device was his only chance, slim though it was. And he’d allowed himself to believe that with it in hand, he might just make it to the next full moon alive. He should’ve known not to place his trust in a hope so slim it was two-dimensional.

Now that hope was gone, smashed to bits. Perhaps Victoria hadn’t broken it herself, but she’d had a hand in its destruction. Rowan slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. How could she have been so naive as to hand over the device to Whisper, a chronic liar and manipulator, who would do anything to get what he wanted? 

If Sam was here…

No. Rowan wouldn’t allow himself to delve into if’s. Sam was gone, the device was shattered. Now he had to make a new plan. One that wouldn’t get completely screwed over by any variable, no matter how small.

Rowan rose to his feet and crossed the room to his desk. He had a week until the day of reckoning. And he couldn’t afford to lose any more time.

[shelivesingalaxies]

I saw a pic of my old friend circle. Funny how time flew. Everyone's there.

Just not me. I wasn't even invited.

Sometimes I wonder if it's a me thing. Was I supposed to stick my head when I don't really feel welcomed/accepted most of the time? Is it my own problem that I have this insecurity that wonders if they even truly like me?

As for the new friends I made, well they are no longer new. Well, I thought they'd stick. But one turned out to hate my honesty. The other turned out to not like the me who was having hardships and dealing with financial status adjustment after dad's death.

I lost them all. That's the bottomline really.

I lost them all.

But now I have to wonder, would it have been worth it sucking up to them and not feeling like I'm appreciated or wanted? I hate the superficial. Or maybe the superficial is me?

I don't even have anyone to ask anymore.

What a ride.

[sirensea14]

Angst relationships part 4

A broken friendship between Sarah and Linda, the catalyst to unleash the worst of nightmares anyone could encounter.

Its sad that best friends like them had to end, right? Pinkie not promised >:o

(Just--one more--angst relationship--left--💀)