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beenbaanbuun · 10 months ago

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Mug w/ Jung Wooyoung

this has been in my drafts for months and i’ve always wondered whether or not i should release it since the material could be triggering to some people. i guess i’ve finally settled on putting it out there, so please heed the warnings before reading it. i don’t want this to affect anyone negatively.

warnings: mentions of past abusive relationships, self doubt, slight dissociation, panic attacks, blood, self harm in the form of skin picking. i think that’s it but please let me know if it’s there’s anything i forgot to mention

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“I’m not mad,” Wooyoung said, as if that made anything better. The tension was still there, eating you alive from the inside out. So was the guilt.

“But you’re disappointed, right?” You countered, knowing how this sort of thing goes. They tell you they’re not mad, but you have to face the consequences anyway. And there were always consequences.

Wooyoung just stared at you with unreadable eyes. They looked almost pitiful in a way, but why would he pity you for what you’d done? He should be screaming at you, throwing things around just to prove his point. Just to make you submit to him once more. That’s how it normally went for you.

But Wooyoung had been kind up until now. He was a gentle soul who preferred to steer you in the right direction if you ever misstepped. There was never any shouting within the four walls of your relationship, nor was there any placing the blame on you being ‘useless’ or any other such word. He was just… nice.

But there had to be a day when that ended, right? You’d fucked up big time this time and he must’ve realised that his kindness isn’t working by now. He had to know that the only way to get you to learn was by putting you in your place.

“Baby, what’s going on?” You were desperate to answer, fumbling over your words trying to find a suitable answer that would reduce your punishment. Perhaps you could tell him you were sick! That always worked when your last partner was mad at you. It would at least postpone whatever was going to happen for a few days. Wooyoung, just frowned. “Calm down, sweetheart.”

But you couldn’t. You knew this was the breaking point so how could you be calm about such a thing? No matter how gentle Wooyoung had been up until this point, you knew it wouldn’t always stay that way. If you’d been taught anything it’s that you were a bad girlfriend, and the only way to make you good was to hurt you. Fear was a powerful teacher, afterall. Fear wouldn’t let you be so careless about your actions.

It would hurt to say goodbye to this version of Wooyoung, you had to admit, but you always knew it was coming. He couldn’t stay his annoyingly loving self forever because you couldn’t stay well behaved forever. You only had yourself to blame for what was to come, really. Did you even have the right for it to hurt?

No, you decided rather quickly.

Wooyoung stared at you, unsure of what to do as you seemed to completely depart from reality. Your eyes were glazed over as you stared off into the distance, and your fingers picked at one another so bad that it fetched blood. You didn’t flinch as the crimson liquid beaded up on your fingers, though, almost as if it didn’t hurt you at all.

Your breathing was heavy and ragged and Wooyoung could tell you were barely staving off a panic attack. He’d done it often enough himself to know exactly how to recognise it, but for some reason, he didn’t know how to help. Something told him you didn’t want to be touched, but he wasn’t sure of how else to get your attention. He’d been calling your name with no success, but the last thing he wanted was to raise his voice. If he was in the slightest bit angry with you, perhaps he would’ve, but he wasn’t. Not at all.

He spared a quick glance towards the trash can, his favourite mug resting at the top in shards. It was really the only one he used, the weight of it just feeling… right. You’d bought it for him when you first started dating a few months ago and although the saying on it made him cringe a little, he’d learnt to love it. Of course, he was sad to see it go, but it was only a mug. He could always get another one. It wouldn’t be the same, but then again, was anything ever the same as the thing it replaced? And you never know, maybe he’d end up preferring whatever mug he got to replace it.

With a sigh, he turned back to you. There were bigger issues to deal with than a mug. You were still barely keeping away a panic attack and your blood from your fingers starting to smear grotesquely across your hands. He briefly wondered where he kept his first aid kit before realising that too was a problem for later.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled as he walked closer. He didn’t lay a hand on you but instead spread his arms as if he were herding a scared animal. He felt stupid doing it, but you started to back up and eventually landed upon his sofa. He tried to ignore the pang of pain that shot through his chest when he thought too deep about the implications of the situation, but it was hard when you were backing away from him like he was going to hurt you.

Oh.

His stomach lurched and for a moment he was sure he was going to throw up. He begged for it not to be true, but it fit way too perfectly not to be.

Someone had hurt his baby.

Wooyoung couldn’t help the rage that filled him from head to toe.

He wanted to scream, and throw things, just to get his rage out, but he couldn’t. To risk scaring you even more would be a cruel thing for him to do. Even if he were sure it would make him feel just a little more calm, he couldn’t bear to think of doing anything that would make you afraid of him. He simply had to hope that his anger would eventually peter out, and he wouldn’t be reminded of it every time he looked at you.

Deep breaths, he told himself as he took himself over to the sofa to sit beside you. One in, he shuffled closer so he was almost pressed up against you. You shuddered and Wooyoung frowned, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t move away.

One out, he said your name in the softest voice he could muster, finally bringing you out of the trance you’d found yourself trapped in. He wondered why this time it worked when all of the other times you ignored him. Perhaps it was his proximity. It was a long shot, but perhaps you felt a little safer with him so close.

One in, he asked if you could hold you in his arms.

One out, you gave him a shaky nod and crawled into his lap. He hated to think that you were only doing it because you thought he’d be mad otherwise, so he let you know that you didn’t have to.

You did it anyway.

“Sweetheart, I need you to tell me that you understand that I’m not angry,” he whispered into your ear, wrapping his arms around you tightly. When he was fresh out of a panic attack, he always liked pressure. With the way you seemed to go limp, he assumed you felt the same. “Not disappointed either. It’s a mug, baby.”

“Your mug,” you replied as if that made your reaction seem any more normal, “I broke your favourite mug.”

Wooyoung sighed. Whilst it was the truth, it was nothing to be angry over. He wondered how many times he’d have to clarify that to you before you understood? Whatever. It didn't matter. He’d tell you as many times as you needed to hear it, just as long as you knew you were safe.

“We’ll it’s only my favourite because my favourite person got it for me,” not a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. For some reason, though, he felt as though ‘it was a nice weight in my hands’ wouldn’t have been so effective in trying to get you to calm down.

“But I bought you that mug?” His heart broke a little, but he couldn't let that show. He refused to give you another reason to throw mental punches at yourself.

“Well then, I guess that makes you my favourite person.”

There was silence for a few seconds as you considered his words. There was no trace of a lie in his voice, but you still found it hard to believe that he was telling the truth. He was surrounded by so many wonderful people who didn’t fuck up nearly as often as you did, and yet he still chose you to be his favourite? You doubted it, but you would never call Wooyoung a liar.

“And I want my favourite person to know that I would never do anything to hurt them,” he continued, voice suddenly a little more solemn, “because why would I ever want to hurt someone as lovely and precious as you?”

“I’m not lovely,” you hid your face in his neck, partially to cover the blush, partially because you were afraid of what may come at the inadvertent accusation. He merely chuckled, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head.

“Yes you are, you little liar,” a kiss, warm and chaste, was placed to your temple, “and I don’t know how anyone could ever tell you you’re anything less than the most wonderful person to ever walk this planet. You’re so kind and thoughtful and even if you do mess up sometimes, that’s okay because you’re human.”

You just nodded into his neck, no longer wanting to deny his compliments. Even if they were just being used to butter you up, you let them sink in. As long as they came from Wooyoung’s mouth, you told yourself you would believe them, for his sake. He’d yet to prove himself to be anything but a good boyfriend, the least you could do was believe him.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair, “so incredibly much.”

“I love you too, Woo.”

“Will you let me patch you up?” He asked, pointing at your fingers but placing his hand over your chest where your heart was beating deep within. You couldn’t know for certain that this relationship would be different, but the look in Wooyoung’s eyes made you feel like you could trust him. It would be a long process, you knew that, but you knew he would put in the work.

You knew that he could make you feel safe.

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst

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frances-kafka · 2 years ago

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So, if you want to understand the history of ND stuff in any useful kind of way you have to know that we talked about these things differently. Gen Xrs have a different generational experience and Boomers' is different still.

Prior to the 80s, NDs were really not a thing. The optic was almost entirely in terms of learning disability and intellectual impairment in the 70s.

ADHD - not autism - is really the first we see of anything resembling the modern ND consciousness, as "autistic" was a label reserved for children presenting with severe disability or at minimum, delay.

Autism in the 70s and 80s and before was not culturally adjacent to ADHD or giftedness, it was adjacent to conditions of severe intellectual impairment.

It's possible to be an 80s ADHD labeled autistic who gets good interventions *because lots of how ADHD was understood at the time, got absorbed by autism later.*

This is basically my story as a matter of fact, a lot of helpful support I got early was via the ADHD pipeline, and so ADHD *is* my "recognized early enough to get meaningful self understanding and meaningful support* narrative, which is a big reason I was ABLE to shrug off autism as a label for about 15 years, until the changing autism stereotypes caught up with me.

ADHD and early issues with visible LD etc are WHY I didn't end up in the "normal until hospitalized" optic that some autistics I knew ended up in, if they had *only* been seen as gifted. I was very aware of my stuff very early even if it was called something else and even if it will be called something else in the future, and it shaped my social choices, my career choices, etc.

Also there was the optic to Boomers and older that you really could just be a "normal" person or even a high performing "genius" who was just "a little slow as a kid." (There are many historical figures this actually applies to. "A little slow as a kid" may just be within a *normal* range of child development.) This is actually part of where many Boomers are coming from when they think a certain degree of autism is just normal.

Early labels in adults (whom we would now understand as high masking ASD-1) were more personal history than identity.

To Boomers and older, you were "mentally well" until you presented "mentally ill." There really wasn't anything like being ND as we presently understand. Also, the *very same optics* that got boys seen as gifted, invested lots of time and support into, etc, got girls into the clinical pipeline early. The real dx discrepancy between girls and boys in my generation and older is the degree to which cis het white rich boys were just allowed to not be anything at all while girls were immediately tagged as mentally ill or developmentally disabled with the very same presentation, even within the same family. My grandmother who was a victim of this, and heavily and deeply abused from early childhood, is the sister of my physicist uncle who was on the Manhattan Project and was odd but successful, had a wife and family, never labeled anything at all.

Lots of people we now see as autistic were just considered normal gifted people who then had a "nervous breakdown" after high school/entering the adult world.

It was possible to be totally ego-syntonic as an odd person until diagnosis, if you were in the 80s gifted pipeline, because if you were in a social set that was actually ALLOWED to be intelligent let alone gifted in the first place (i.e., an upper middle class person, with more weirdness optic allowed for boys) you likely weren't going to be diagnosed with ANYTHING unless you were Weird with a Capital W.

That I had any kind of optic besides just being Gifted is *because* despite high IQ, I was a poor academic performer, and *couldn't* mask well inside a school setting.

These are people without even that optic.

They literally were just seen as gifted, and it was assumed that - of course - highly gifted people were a little weird. Gifted optic in school meant access to a whole different social and academic pipeline consisting hugely of other people we would now understand as ND, so it's actually possible to come out of that being totally ego-syntonic, and never ever even seek diagnosis until something breaks.

If you're like my ex husband who ended up just going away to sea for years, and then becoming a programmer in a basement at a university, you might never get diagnosed with anything, especially if you never see yourself as the problem in any of your interpersonal interactions, and that was a FAR more common optic with gifted white Gen X and Jones ASD-1 boys than early dx was.

The thing for my generation isnt the degree to which boys were diagnosed over girls... quite the opposite, it's the degree to which smart white rich boys were just *allowed* to be odd and given tons of concessions *without* being labeled ANYTHING, because of the degree to which the culture saw that boy was probably a future curer of cancer or a future astronaut.

A chunk of the "NT [more likely, high masking autist] woman miserably married to ASD man" narrative on those websites like FAAAS is actually referring to men who don't have any diagnostic label whatsoever and don't understand themselves as the problem, if you actually read the stories.

Those guys don't get diagnosed until something actually breaks - like, their wife hauls them into couples counseling, or they have finally exhausted their supply of good will (many social compensations of gifted children stop working past one's 20s and that's actually when my dx happened too).

Interpersonal problems weren't enough for dx unless they actually bothered a person enough to seek help. Something has to break. You don't end up with a diagnosis because you're happy and adjusted, no matter how odd you are.

Please ask Boomers about nervous breakdowns because half the time this is referring to what we now understand as autistic burnout.

#i have a lot of thermonuclear takes tbh and don't feel autism is going to be a meaningful term in 20 years #the map is not the terrain

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mothmothwoth · 4 months ago

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I don’t think Shilo really understands consent.

Like- as a required and good thing. He does know theoretically what he does is bad. He understands that his manipulation and domination of people is a violation but it seems very soft of a boundary to him. Despite what people tell him over and over about how wrong his constant domination of mortals or other vampires is he doesn’t stop. He thinks he knows better, and so he does it with no regard for the other person at all. And if he is told that what he did was horrible he tries to explain that his fix was important and helpful, not considering the possibility that the act itself is the problem. You can see when Emizel confronts him with what he did to Theo, he is defensive of his reasoning first and only when Emizel doesn’t back down (because that’s not really the issue here) does Shilo offer to maybe fix Theo (It’s also telling that he does this by adding another command instead of nullifying what he did previously)

I don’t think he understands why taking away someone’s free will and choice is bad. It’s the thing of like yeah you’re told doing this is bad, but you can get what you want by doing it and no one ever explains how it hurts people or why it’s wrong so you just get better at doing it when no one’s looking. Shilo sees he has the power to do this, and thus he does. It’s about being above the people he does this to, he knows better then them, he’s more powerful so he is entitled to this. And I think his worldview is so interesting when considering Shilo’s own treatment and lack of autonomy. Because it’s a system of abuse.

Shilo has lived in the castle his whole life, trapped in his room. He isn’t allowed to leave, he isn’t allowed to talk to people, he isn’t allowed books outside of what is approved, he is taught by his uncle, he attends lessons when told to, he eats what they provide him, he sees his mother when she wants to see him. Shilo isn’t allowed to be a person. Shilo wants to go outside, and to see what his books talk about, to have experiences. But Shilo is weaker than his uncle, weaker than his mother, so he cant. If he was better, if he was smarter, if he was more powerful he could have control. But he doesn’t.

He uses the guards, because since they are weaker than him they don’t get to have control. He does not care if he gets them killed, because if you are above someone you get to decide their life. It’s the strong’s right to own the weak. It’s how Shilo is obedient and submissive because he knows his place. He was never allowed autonomy so that’s how he sees everyone else too. He doesn’t see that this was wrong and so perpetuates the cycle. He acts within the rules of that system he has grown up in when that system doesn’t exist. The things people are expecting him to already know he can’t comprehend. Consent isn’t something he was ever taught or shown, so he can’t internalize it. Because of this lack of understanding he also can’t fully explain or process what happens to him.

There is a lack of really talking about or processing what Edward did to Shilo by the characters. And Shilo specifically hates Edward but in an almost disconnected way if that makes sense. He does not want to see Edward and doesn’t like to think about it but when they talk about hating the guy and planning to kill him Shilo talks about how his face is weird and that he’s an asshole but not really about the blood bond or anything. I think Shilo can’t actually conceptualize why this event, waking up in a creepy guys house in a robe forcibly bonded while unconscious and then tricked into it again under false pretenses all while being in this guys bed with him trying to seduce you or something, freaks him out so much. Because to him that should be completely in line with the system, it’s normal so he shouldn’t be feeling like this, it isn’t a big deal. But it is and Shilo doesn’t know why. He can’t explain really what it was to anyone either because he doesn’t know what made it so bad. And since he can’t get it, he can’t learn anything from it, he commits to the system harder and plans revenge. Shilo gets worse and the cycle goes on.

I don’t really have a way to end this I just- Shilo makes me crazy. I hope he kills people next season.

#jrwi #jrwi the suckening #shilo bathory #jrwi shilo #I don’t know how to tag this gonna be real #the suckening #Me when I don’t shut up fr

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ratinacoat · 5 months ago

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you cook with every post you make. a refreshing breath of cool air in this hellhole of an online CDD community. ily. /p

genuinely keep doing what you do because this is so wonderful to see . please keep speaking your truth king it's so needed !!!!!

i'd love to hear your thoughts on why smaller systems aren't as well represented in online spaces/why so many pwDID online have such large headcounts. i have my own theories (mainly, the communities that they're engaging with have normalized huge alter counts to the point where a small one is abnormal, and online systems will do anything to avoid being abnormal in a bad way), but i'd love to hear your take on it.

once again tysm for being so correct all the time it's so necessary

Thank you for the support! The positive messages truly speak louder than the hate driven ones.

I believe there could be a few reasons that larger headcounts are more common than smaller ones.

Because this will be quite long, I will list them below here.

Don't want to read through each paragraph? Focus on the green.

1. Validation

As you said, it is so normalized to have hundreds to thousands of alters in system communities despite this not being a very common experience within people with diagnosed DID. Many feel their headcounts need to be high in order to feel valid within those communities of people who make their online identity about their disorder. It may feel invalidating or as if no one will believe you if you do not claim such a high count. This can be overexaggerating symptoms or lying.

*I am not claiming all people with higher alter counts are lying*

2. Mislead

During my time in system communities of all kinds, there has been so much misinformation. I have witnessed groups of people telling one person that their thoughts being in a new voice means it's a new alter, their personality shifting is a new alter, identifying with/as a character is a new alter, being connected to a character is a new alter, zoning out is a switch, a headache is a split, ECT. This happens so much that I wouldn't doubt people think something is an alter that actually isn't. This especially applies to endogenic communities who will refuse to allow you to be normal. Everything makes you a system and if you doubt yourself they see you as ableist and invalidating to others/your alters.

3. Misinformation

The system community strongly believes in things like C-DID/polyfragmentation and HC-DID. These things aren't medically proven things though.

Polyfragmentation comes from Dr. Richard P. Kluft and Dr. Benner G. Braun's (Two psychiatrists who are well known to be abusive and a conspiracy theorists) theory of "Extremely complex multiple personality disorder" Outside of outdated or unreliable information/studies, polyfragmentation is not a recognized part of DID at all. I have tried looking for up to date professionally written sources on polyfragmentation and I have never found any. But if you have some then feel free to link them I would love to read it.

If you would like to read this here is a link. DO NOT USE THIS AS A SOURCE OF ACTUAL INFORMATION. This is outdated as hell. It's just showing where the term polyfragmented came from and why it isn't good.

HC-DID came from... Instagram. I think that says enough. It has never been a medically recognized thing and is not a diagnosis you can get.

4. Views

No, I do not mean doing it for views. Literally because of the views on posts. When people post about having high alter counts, it draws in all sorts of people. Whether that be other people who interact with system content, random observers, curious people, people who think the content is cringe, or really anyone. The more obscure appearing posts always go the most viral. That is why people like The Wonderland System, The A System, The Pillowfort System, ECT blow up. Their videos show CDDs in a more exaggerated way. That includes high alter count (not including The A System there afaik.) being a big part of their content. They blow up because more people are engaging for more reasons. While someone who doesn't present the disorder in such an overt way won't get that much traction online. It's not as interesting to people who engage in system content or people who just come across the videos. You see more of the higher headcount videos because they gain more attention online and get pushed to more people.

I want to make it clear, I am not saying that this is going to be for everyone who claims to have a high alter count.

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callsign-magnolia · 2 years ago

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Undiagnosed // Ch. 12

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.4k

Chapter 11 | Masterlist

For the first week I was lost. The only reason I really got up was to feed Calypso which is what I named my new fish or to eat. I was still upset with Jake, or myself.I didn’t quite know. Part of me wants to ask him, but I couldn’t get a hold of him even if I wanted to. The other part of me is screaming that it’s not my fault he’s mad at me. He couldn’t be mad that I went to Phoenix’s. I left because of him and Kelly and I didn’t force him to lay on the couch and wait for me. But every day while I lay here I can’t help but think I did something wrong, and that’s the reason he didn’t wake me up. That I did something that pissed him off to the point he didn’t want to see me before he left for six weeks. My emotions were everywhere. One minute I was angry, the next I would cry, and sometimes I just didn’t care. If he didn’t want to see me, I don’t want to see him. There was one point for all of an hour I considered moving out but that was shot down quickly when I realized that I had no money, all of my friends were gone besides Kelly, and I probably couldn’t make it on my own if I tried. I finally dragged myself out of the bed roughly a week after they were deployed and went downstairs for lunch, seeing as I slept through breakfast. That’s another thing I realized, my sleep schedule is all out of whack. I usually get up when Jake gets back from his morning run, but without him here, I’ve been sleeping till all hours of the day. Once downstairs I opened the fridge and peered inside. I glanced through it and the freezer, finding we really only had vegetables and things for sides. No real food.

I huffed and realized I had to go to the grocery store. So I stormed upstairs, pissed that my plans changed so suddenly. I didn’t want to go anywhere today. I wanted to stay here and finish up my last book and maybe find a movie to watch, but now I had to go to the damn store. I took what I thought was a quick shower, it was actually forty-five minutes. I was losing all sense of time. A simple shower and getting ready should only take me an hour or so, especially now that my hair is shorter. But it took me two hours to get ready. I simply blow dried my hair, put on some mascara in hopes I’d feel normal, and slipped on a light blue t-shirt dress. It was so hot outside today, I couldn’t even imagine wearing pants. I grabbed my glasses and slid them on before making my way downstairs. Jake told me a few days before he left that he was leaving me his credit card. I know he told me he was leaving it in one of the cabinets, tucked away but I couldn’t find it. I shoved my hand in every cabinet and even grabbed the step stool to look up on the top shelves. I was pretty sure Jake wouldn’t put it up that high but I had to check.

I still hadn’t found it and I was so frustrated I could’ve screamed. I looked under the stack of mail, moved things around on the counter, wondering if it fell and after half an hour I still hadn’t found it. Rage bubbled within me. Where the hell did he fucking put it? It’s not like I could call him and ask where it was. I let out a yell of frustration and became even more angry when I saw the card and a note on the other side of the kitchen, tucked between the coffee pot and the wall. “I don’t know why the fuck he thought that was a good idea.” I sneered, slamming my hand down on the card and tucking it in my wallet before looking at the note. ‘Get whatever you want or need, darlin’. Plenty of money on it.’ I scoffed, crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash can. Darlin’ my ass. Even the nice words and the name pissed me off. I grabbed his truck keys and my purse before making my way out to his truck. I got in and shut the door, turning the ignition. The vents blasted hot air at first but then cooled down pretty quick. “Fucking mountain.” I remarked as I slowly moved the seat closer to the steering wheel. Once I was all situated I backed out of the driveway and drove out of the little neighborhood and towards the store. I was still mad, so much so I turned the radio off completely. I usually blast music but I just needed a silent drive. I was heading for the closest little market which was about fifteen minutes away. I didn’t want to be out longer than necessary.

I leaned my elbow on the door and propped my head up as I pulled up to a red light. I sat there, waiting forever for the light to change and looked out my window. The car next to me looked slightly familiar, the silver color reflecting the sun off of it and into my eyes. But as I leaned over I caught sight of the familiar face of my mother. Thankfully, Jake’s truck sat higher than her car so as she looked out the passenger window she only saw the black exterior of the truck. I slammed back in my seat, hoping she didn’t just see me. My heart thudded in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut as I attempted to calm myself. The honking of a horn made my eyes fly open and I slammed my foot on the gas, speeding off. Seeing my mother made me realize that I was about to go to the same grocery store as her and I quickly changed where I was heading. I drove an additional twenty minutes to the target on the north end of San Diego and felt a little better. I knew my parents never traveled farther than they had to, but I still felt uneasy. I walked into the store, opting for coffee from starbucks before I started my shopping. Although, coupled with the anxiety I just experienced it was probably a bad idea. But I didn’t care. I took my large coffee cup and grabbed a buggy before turning for the back of the store where the food sat.

I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder occasionally, fearing one of my parents would be right behind me. I grabbed things such as ground beef, chicken, pasta, a few microwave or one pot meals. I took my time, scouring the aisles for anything I may need or want. As one person, cooking big meals was almost a waste so finding ways to cook single servings was the best way to go. With Jake I could make a full meal and he’d eat over half by himself. I left the grocery section, heading straight over to the book section and looked around every aisle. I found a few books that piqued my interest, one of them was called Twisted Love and the other, A Court Of Thorns and Roses. I was into older romance stories, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Princess Bride but I felt like I should try something else. So I went for a more modern romance and a fantasy. I thought back to Jake’s note, ‘Get whatever you want or need.’ Smirking, I grabbed a few others that seemed interesting and went to check out. Once I paid I loaded everything into the car and decided to stop at Five Guys for a burger, fries and a milkshake and rushed home. The closer I got to the house, the more nervous I got. Seeing my mom made me realize I didn’t go far. Bumping into them is very much a real threat and now I understand why Jake was cautious about where he took me.

Once I was home I rushed to get everything inside and locked the door behind me. I sighed in relief, knowing I was home and there was no way I could bump into my mother. Once everything was put away I sat on the couch with my food, deciding to eat while I watched a movie. One Natasha suggested was the Princess Bride. I had read the book dozens of times but I had never seen the movie. So I sat, ate and attempted to forget my mothers face. I thought I was totally safe here, but it’s not like I ran off to another country, I basically ran down the road. But as I sit here, a full stomach and my sweet tooth curbed, I can’t help but worry that my parents really know where I am. I tried to not worry, but it seems to be something I’m good at. Halfway through the movie I decided to lay down on the couch, maybe a nap would do me good. As the movie was coming to a close I could feel the exhaustion creeping in on me.

A loud bang woke me up and I jumped up in fear. The banging was coming from the front door, I could see it shaking from the force. I stared at it as I slowly stood from the couch, making my way over the window. I moved the curtains and the blinds only to see blackness. It was the type of black you see in underground tunnels and caves, you can’t see your hand in front of your face, the type that seeps into your bones and scares you to the core. I couldn’t even see the white railings that lined the front porch. The banging continued and I walked over,standing on my toes to look out the peephole. As I did so the banging stopped but I looked out the peephole to once again, find blackness. I sighed and lowered myself off my toes just as the wood on the door splintered and a large hand came through, grabbing the front of my dress and slamming me face first into the door before letting me go. I fell to the floor scrambling away from the door as the hand reached for the locks and turned them. The door slowly swung open to reveal my father. Everything was silent, save for my heaving breaths as I tried to breathe and fight the tears back. He simply stood there and I took the opportunity to get up and run. I went for the back door but it was gone. Why was it gone?! The garage door through the kitchen was gone as well and I panicked, rushing for the stairs. I would go into my room and lock the door before scaling down the lattice by my window. But as I started up the stairs my father was suddenly before me. His hand shot out before smacking me clear across the face and sending me head first into the banister before tumbling backwards down the stairs.

Pain blossomed across my face as I sat up with a yell. I pulled my hand away to see blood on it and the carpet. “Oh, it was just a dream.” I sighed out. I heard my phone buzz and saw it was a facetime from Bradley. Excitement swelled within me and I immediately answered. “Hang on.” I called, standing and rushing to the bathroom with my phone. “Well hello to you too.” He remarked. “Everything okay?” He asked. “Yeah, I just had a nightmare and I’ve seemed to roll off the couch and I hit my nose on the coffee table.” I answered as I wiped the blood from my face. “Let me see?” He asked and I sighed, propping up the phone so he could see me. “Damn.” That’ll probably bruise.” He said. “I know.” It went quiet for a moment before he spoke up. “What was the nightmare about?” He asked. “My dad broke in. All the doors disappeared so I was forced up the stairs…” I trailed off. “Then he smacked me and sent me backwards down the stairs. I must’ve been moving around a lot on the couch and fell off, smacking my face on the coffee table.” I said.

“How often do you have nightmares?” He asked. “I haven’t had them in a few weeks. But…” He raised a brow at me. “But what?” He asked. I chewed on my bottom lip. “I went to the store today and when I stopped at a red light… I saw my mom.” He was silent, his lips pursed in a line and I couldn’t quite tell his emotions. “Are you sure it was her?” He asked and I nodded. “One hundred percent positive.” “And did she see you?” He asked and I shook my head. “I don’t think so. At least, she didn’t look right at me.” I said. “Good.” He said and I walked out of the bathroom and into my room where I flopped down onto my bed. “Woah, your bed’s not made?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nope.” I was usually uptight about my bed. It had to be made or else I wouldn't sleep good. Sleeping in an already messy bed stressed me out for some reason. “Katie? How long have you been in bed?” He asked and a blush crept up my cheeks. “Don’t lie to me.” He added. “Today was the first day I really got up.” I answered. “God. Hangman is gonna lose his mind.” He said and I sat up. “You aren’t gonna say shit to him.” I said and he raised a brow. “He doesn’t get to know every little thing that’s going on with me, especially since he left without waking me, saying goodbye, nothing.” I spat.

“I’m sensing some anger.” He said. “If you were getting deployed, and you asked someone if you should wake them up the next morning to go to the docks with you or at least say goodbye, would you do it?” He raised a brow as if that was a dumb question. “Of course I would.” He answered before he gasped. “Jake didn’t say goodbye.” I shook my head. “No, he didn’t and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s mad at me. But I didn’t force him to sleep on the couch and wait for me to come home.” I had started pacing at this point, my phone propped up on my pillow so he could see me. “Wait, what am I missing?” He asked and I realized he probably has no idea what I’m talking about. I flopped onto the bed, lying on my stomach as I looked at my phone. “The night before you guys left, I heard Jake and Kelly… having sex.” His eyebrows shot up. “That’s weird, Hangman says Kelly is always worried someone would hear and he can hardly get her to say a word in bed.” I brushed it off. “Yeah, well she didn’t seem to care that night. But I went to Natasha's for a while. I felt like I was intruding but I came back home really late and he was asleep on the couch.” Bradley hummed and nodded. “He didn’t seem mad when he got up. He asked if I wanted him to wake me up before he left and I said yes, but then I woke up and y’all were long gone.” I said, letting my head fall to my mattress.

“Katie, I don’t think he did it out of spite.” He said and I huffed. “Then why else would he leave without saying goodbye? It makes no sense!” He shrugged. “I-I don’t know. It’s so unlike him.” He said and I heard a door open on his end. I sniffled, wiping my tears before they fell. “Aw, Katie. Don’t cry, please.” He said and I sat up, sitting cross legged in front of my phone. “Katie?” I groaned as I heard Jake’s voice on the other end. “What’s wrong? C’mon darlin’, talk to me!” He said and I scoffed, scowling and I flipped my phone face down on the comforter. “Katie?” Jake called. “What the fuck did you do to her?” I assume his question was towards Bradley. “What did I do? I think you might want to be asking yourself that, bagman.” Bradley snapped back. “Me?!” He asked, shocked. “Katie, darlin’. Talk to me please.” I knew it was childish, the way I was acting, but I knew if I even looked at him I would give in. “Katie, c’mon. You’re scaring me, I’m worried.”

I grabbed the phone, flipping it over and glaring at him through the screen. He seemed to notice the anger in my eyes and leaned back in surprise. “Oh, you’re worried? Bless your heart.” I said before setting my phone back down. “Wha-You-” He stumbled over his words until he found the right ones. “You don’t get to insult me like that!” He called out and I rolled my eyes. “This is my call with her you know, not yours.” I grabbed my phone again. “Yeah, this is mine and Bradley’s call. So why don’t you find something else to do, without saying goodbye.” I snapped and Bradley snickered at Jake’s confusion. “What?” Bradley laughed at him. “Just leave us alone, Jake. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I said and Bradley snatched the phone. “Yeah, she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” He said, walking out of his and Jake’s room. “You know he’s going to pout all day.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “Let him. Like I care.” I spat and he just grinned at me. “You know you care.” He said and while I wouldn’t admit it, I do hate making Jake feel bad but I’m so angry with him. “Can we change the subject?” I asked and he nodded with a smile. “Wanna see something?” He asked and I nodded. He turned the phone around and I saw a beautiful view of the ocean and what seemed to be a sun rise. “Oh my god.” I gasped out. “Bradley, it’s beautiful.” I said and he turned the phone back around, a giant grin on his face. “Isn’t it?” He asked and I nodded.

“Hey, Bradley?” I asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. "Why did you use your call on me?" I asked and he just smiled. "Truth?" I nodded. "I've never had anyone to call on deployments." My heart broke for him. I could never imagine being so far away for so long and never having anyone to call and talk to. "I knew Hangman would use his calls to talk to Kelly, so I wanted to call you. Keep you updated, and just talk to you." He said with a grin. "With an answer like that, Jake may believe you really do have romantic feelings for me." I joked and he laughed. "If it gets him to admit his own feelings then good!" I gave him a small smile. "He doesn't have feelings for me, Rooster. Besides, if he did he wouldn’t have left without at least leaving a note.” I said. “You just don’t see it.” I scoffed. “See what? The way he looks at his girlfriend?” I asked, chuckling at the end. “I’m telling you, Katie. There’s something there.” I rolled my eyes at him and we continued our conversation, without the mention of Jake. Once we were done I went upstairs and got ready for bed. My nose still hurts from my fall and I’m sure I would have a nasty bruise just like Bradley said. But thankfully, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it is not broken. As I laid in bed that night I couldn’t help but realize some of my anger had faded away. Jake telling me he was worried, made me a little pleased. It was so easy for me to give in to him and all because of my own stupid feelings. But I couldn’t just let this go so easily, couldn’t be weak. My thoughts cast me off into sleep, one that thankfully was nightmare free.

I spent the next few days reading and trying to think of what else to do with my time. I had my next therapy session in two weeks and I quickly remembered I told Dr. Davis I would apply to some nursing programs. So I spent a few days applying to a few programs, ones that I would have a decent chance of getting in. The thought of going back to school scared me, but I knew that I would regret not even trying. I was cleaning a few days later, about a week after Bradley called me when the doorbell rang. I froze in the middle of my mopping and looked out of the kitchen and towards the front door. I slowly stalked forwards, standing on my toes and looking out the peephole. I was relieved to see Kelly’s face, looking straight at the door so I swung it open with a large smile. “Hi!” I greeted cheerfully. She gave me a small smile and stepped inside. She hung up her purse like usual and walked into the kitchen. “Oh! Be careful! I was in the middle of mopping!” I called, following after her. She didn’t seem to notice nor care as she traipsed across the clean floors and opened the fridge. “No beer?” She asked and I shook my head. “I don’t drink it.” I said. “Well Jake does.” I nodded, a little caught off guard by her stern tone. “Well he finished the last of them before he left and I plan to get some closer to the time of him coming home.” I responded as she pulled out a water bottle.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked and she hummed. “Is Jake mad at me?” I asked. She pursed her lips, sighing. “I wouldn’t say mad. More annoyed.” My face and hopes fell. “Oh…” I said. “It’s just… you’re always around.” She said. “We keep trying for alone time and you’re just there. Like the night before he shipped out. We had to change up everything so as not to disturb you and you still left.” I bit my lip, looking down at my bare feet. “I’m sorry. If you had asked me to leave I would’ve.” I replied. “But we shouldn’t have to.” She snapped and my head hung even more if possible. “You just follow Jake around like a lost puppy and it’s even getting on my nerves.” She said and I furrowed my brows. “Does it bother Jake?” I asked. “Of course it bothers him!” She said loudly. “It bothers the both of us.” I opened my mouth to reply but didn’t know what to say. “Maybe it’s time you find somewhere else to live.” She said and I could practically feel myself go pale. “I think I'd rather talk to Jake about this.” I said, standing tall. “It is his house and he did invite me to stay… So I’ll talk to him about it.” She scoffed. “He’s going to tell you the same thing I just did. Better to leave before he gets home and avoid the awkwardness.” She grinned at me and all the anger that I’ve had pent up came to the surface. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails making crescent shapes in my palms.

“Is that all you have to say?” I asked, the anger evident in my voice. She just grinned at me. “Did I strike a nerve?” She asked mockingly. “Yeah. You fucking did.” She seemed surprised by my honesty. “I don’t know what kind of satisfaction you’re getting from coming here and telling me these things, but you're done.” I snapped. “It’s not your house.” She said, taking a step closer. “It’s not yours either.” Her face fell. She thought she was clever. “Now please leave.” Her eyes glanced at my fists and she noticed the shaking. “I will leave you with this reminder. Jake is my boyfriend and you will never take him from me.” I scoffed in her face. “And I’ll leave you with a reminder. The world does not revolve around you and I don’t want your fucking boyfriend. You can keep him and I hope that you have the life you deserve with him.” I sneered. “Now leave.” She stood before me, her face mere inches from my own. Her breath fanned against my face and I could smell alcohol. “And brush your fucking teeth when you get home. That’s disgusting.” Her hand immediately flew to her mouth before she stormed towards the door. She grabbed her purse from the hook but it got caught and instead of lifting it, she yanked it and the force pulled the board with the hooks off the wall. “Fuck you!” I yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “Now I have to clean this shit up.”

A few hours later I had cleaned everything up and finished the rest of the house before pouring myself a glass of wine. Before I could even take my first sip my phone started ringing and as I lifted it, Jake’s name flashed across the screen. I slammed it down on the table and stared at it. I took a sip and was going to let it continue to ring, but decided to answer at the last second. “Hey, darlin’.” He said with a big smile and I propped my phone up. “We need to talk.” My voice was stern and it shocked him. “What happened to your nose? What’s going on?” He asked. “My nose doesn’t matter. If you wanted me gone Jake, you should’ve fucking told me. What did you just want a house sitter while you were gone? Just decided to wait till you came home to tell me to find somewhere else to live?” I snapped. “What are you talking about?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Don’t play dumb. Kelly told me how I was getting on your nerves and that I need to find somewhere else to live.” His eyebrows shot up and he leaned back slightly. “Woah! Hold on!” I shook my head. “No! You should’ve told me! If you want me gone, if you’re mad that I’m interrupting your alone time with your girlfriend, you should’ve told me!” I yelled out as I stood. “I can be reasonable if you’re honest with me! But dammit, Jake! I have spent so much of my life around lies, I can’t just let that go!” “Katie. Darlin’-” “Don’t fucking call me that.” I interrupted and he nodded. “Katie. I never lied to you and I never would. I don’t know what Kelly was saying, but I sent her over there to check on you.”

“She sure checked in! Busted up in here and told me all about how I was wrecking your relationship and that I needed to find somewhere else to live, and how you’re her boyfriend and I will never steal you from her. Newsflash, I don’t fucking want you.” I snapped. Saying that to Kelly didn’t phase me, but saying it to Jake, that hurt. “Wait what?” He asked loudly. “Yeah. So you get your wish. I won’t be here when you get home.” I said. “No! Katie? Katie please!” He yelled as I stood up. “What?” If steam could be rolling out of my ears, I'm sure it would. I was shaking. I was so mad. But also upset. I should've known better than to hold out hope that this would work out. Nobody can handle you. You run every one off. “Darlin’, please. Don’t leave.” His eyes were misty as tears filled them and a part of me felt bad. “Please. Don’t leave.” Was he… begging? “Why shouldn’t I?” I asked. “Because whatever Kelly said, it’s a lie. I didn’t lie, she is.” I furrowed my brows. “You’re calling your own girlfriend a liar?” I asked, surprised. “Yes. Because she’s lying. I don’t want you to leave. Katie, if anything I never want you to leave. I’ve grown so used to having you in the house and I don’t want you to leave.”

“Wh-why don’t you stay there and we’ll talk when I get home.” I sat back, huffing. “Jake-” “Katie. Please.” He said sternly. “Please, just stay.” My jaw tensed. “I will be here when you get home. But we are having a talk that day, no putting it off.” He nodded. “Good. Great!” He said. “But if I want to leave, you won’t stop me.” I said and his face fell. “If I stay we have to have a serious talk about what we’re gonna do moving forward because I am so fucking tired of assuming you’re angry with me everytime I turn around.” I said, tears of my own forming. “Katie, I’ve never been remotely angry with you.” He said and I sighed. “Let’s talk when you come home. I’m exhausted.” I said and he nodded. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll see you in four weeks.” He said. “Bye, Jake.” He barely said goodbye before I hung up and chugged the entire glass of wine. This was going to be a long four weeks. I thought before getting up and grabbing the bottle. “Might as well keep this nearby.” I muttered as I strolled over to the couch, flopping down on it.

The following week was my therapy appointment and as soon as I sat down in Dr. Davis’ office, my leg was shaking. “I’m sorry I was late. I can’t seem to get myself together lately.” I said and she shook her head. “No! It’s okay, it was one minute!” She said but I couldn’t help but feel like she was actually upset with me. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m not upset or frustrated with you if that’s what you're asking.” She said. “Do you often feel like people are upset with you?” She asked and I nodded. “Let’s talk about that.” I explained everything, from my parents constantly being upset with me, to feeling like Jake is angry with me. We had started EMDR which was a little weird at first. My eyes were closed and I was tapping my knees in a steady rhythm, “I didn’t tell him why I thought he was mad.” She hummed and immediately I felt nauseous. “Are you okay?” She asked as I opened my eyes. “No, I feel nauseous.” She nodded, jotting some stuff down. “You seem to feel everything physically. The dizziness, the nausea.” She said and I took a few deep breaths, the nausea slowly subsiding.

“How do you feel about the situation with Jake now?” She asked. “It’s an eight.” She nodded. “Good! We started at a ten and we’ve already gotten it down to an eight! Just remember you may not feel like this is resolved until you talk to him.” I nodded. “Now, let’s talk about nursing school.” She said and I practically jumped in my seat. “Yes! I applied to three programs!” She smiled. “Good, which ones?” She asked and I told her. “Those aren’t very respected schools. Their graduation rates are low.” She said. “Yeah but… I struggle in school, a lot, and I think these are the only ones that will take me.” She shook her head and started writing. “I want you to apply to these two schools.” She said and handed me the paper. “San Diego State University, University of San Diego? These are the best schools in the city.” She nodded. “I don’t think I’ll get in.” She just smiled at me. “You’ll never know until you try.” She said and I stared at the paper. Once I apply to these two I will have applied to five. “What if I don’t get into any of them?” I asked. “Then we’ll figure out what to do in the meantime and if you want, you can apply again next year.” With that my session was over and I walked out to the truck, the paper clutched in my hand. Once I got in and got the air flowing I looked down at it. “She’s crazy to think I will get in.”

I set the paper down on the table when I got home. I couldn’t think about it right now, my mind was swirling between Jake, the Kelly issue and school. I decided to get lost in a book, I decided to open up Twisted Love. Maybe a little romance will make me feel better. I laid on the couch as I read and had wine and pizza for dinner. It took me a few days to work up the courage to apply and it was Bradley who convinced me too. “So why haven’t you applied?” He asked as I sat on the couch eating a sandwich. “What if I don’t get in?” I asked. “Sounds like a dumb reason to not apply.” He said, making me frown. “You think?” I asked and he nodded. “I know. You should apply! If they say no then you can always apply again next year.” He said and I sighed. “But what will I do if I don’t get in? I can’t just sit around and wait a whole year.” He chuckled. “We’ll figure something out. Why don’t you just do it?” He asked. “I guess I really don’t have a reason not to.” He nodded. “If anything, you have every reason to do it.” He was right. “Okay, I’ll do it once we get off the phone.” I said. “Just so you know, Jake has been pouting since your call.” He said and I giggled. “You haven’t told him?” I asked and he grinned at me. “Absolutely not. I’m enjoying this way too much.” He said. “Has he asked?” He nodded. “At least once a day, and when he realized I knew why you were mad he’s taken to practically begging me to tell him.” I giggled at his words.

“Well I guess it’s almost time for you to go to bed.” He said as I yawned and then I nodded. “Yeah, but I’m gonna send in those two applications before I go to bed.” I said. “You sure you’re not too tired?” He asked and I nodded. “I’ll sleep better if I go ahead and send them in. They’ve been stressing me out every time I think about them.” I said. “Makes sense. Well I’ll let you send those in and I’ll call you next week.” He said. “Alright. Bye, Bradley.” I said and he waved before the call ended. I took a deep breath before going upstairs and going into Jake’s room. It smelled like him and always made me feel better. I snagged his laptop that he’s been allowing me to use and went downstairs. I sat on the couch for an hour sending these two in before I got ready for bed. I put Jake’s laptop back in his room and turned to leave but I stopped in the doorway. Smelling his cologne brought me comfort and I hadn’t been sleeping the best. Maybe I could just snag one of his shirts. I made my way to his dresser and opened the drawer, it was mostly boxers and socks so I closed it and opened the one below it.

I found a burnt orange longhorn shirt and it smelled strongly of Jake. Is it weird for me to wear his shirt? “It’ll be washed and back in his drawer before he ever gets home.” I took the shirt into my room and slipped it on. I looked in my mirror and honestly, I looked good in his shirt and white thong. If Kelly ever found out she’d lose it, but who gives a fuck what she thinks anymore. I crawled into bed and grabbed my book again. I was about halfway through the book and was growing tired until I read the words, ‘On your knees.’ My face burned and I closed the book. “Did I just read that?” I had never read smut before and part of me felt embarrassed. The other part of me had to continue. So I opened the book back up and read on. My entire body was burning as I read and with the smell coming from the shirt I had on, I could only think of Jake and I. Specifically, Jake and I in this situation. An entire weekend hidden away to do nothing but explore each other’s bodies. “Oh my god.” I said, slamming the book shut. “I did not just think that.” I said before setting the book down and rolling over in bed. “I just have to put it out of my mind.” I muttered but it took forever to fall asleep, the ache between my legs was strong but finally I drifted off. But of course Jake was an ever present figure in my dream.

After that I couldn’t pick the book back up, so I started A Court of Thorns and Roses instead. But at this point I also couldn’t fall asleep without wearing Jake’s shirt, so all night his scent wafted around me and he was constantly in my dreams. It was about three days after I sent in the applications that I started receiving emails about the nursing programs. So far I was asked to come in and interview for two and as I prepared dinner, my phone dinged again with another email. I wiped my hands clean and picked up my phone. I opened the email and smiled, ‘Miss Blair, congratulations on moving on to the next stage of the application process. We would love to have you in for a panel interview next week to see if you would be a good candidate for our program.’ I squealed as I looked at the logo for San Diego State University. Between them, United States University and the University of San Diego, I had to get into one, right? I immediately sent an email to Bradley and Natasha in my excitement, but I asked them to keep it quiet. I wanted to email Jake so badly, but I was still so mad at him. I needed these few weeks to hurry by so I could get everything sorted out, but with all the dreams I’ve been having I don’t even know if I could look him in the eye anymore.

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nerves-nebula · 2 years ago

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I sometimes get uncomfortable around arguments about if certain characters are abusive or not- obviously I see this the most with 2012 tmnt and nobody really needs my opinion but I keep thinking about it so here’s some words to chew on.

Keep in mind I haven’t seen much of 2012 so I’ll mostly be talking about the WAY I see these discussions being had here, rather than the show itself.

I doubt the creators intended for the turtles to be abusive and I kind of just assume that everything they do is within the genre of slapstick kids show. But I also don’t think people who cringe away from the way they treat each other are reading too much into it.

I’ve seen people argue that ppl who think the brothers are abusive just don’t have siblings and that’s an insane take to me. Obviously its probably hyperbole in some instances but as someone with more siblings than most of the people I know, I 100% see the abuse reading of this series. It’s a very obvious idea to latch onto for me as someone who HAS been abused by my siblings- and who’s probably been abusive too.

The main thing that really gets under my skin is when people point out how much the turtles actually care about each other as evidence against abuse. Cause that doesn’t make any sense ??? you can abuse people you love and care about deeply.

And it really rubs me the wrong way when I see a post that’s like Raph can’t be abusive because he does X nice/cute things with Mikey or something like. That’s not how abuse works. You guys have to know that right?? Abuse isn’t just a person being mean 24/7 without pause.

A bit of a tangent coming up, but growing up, I really hated Mabel from gravity falls. not because she is inherently any more annoying or selfish or anything than other characters but because the way she treated dipper was extremely triggering for me as a child with a lot of anxiety. Like if Mabel was real and my sibling, I would’ve considered a lot of the shit she did abusive. Obviously I’m normal about her now cause I’m not 12 anymore but the biggest hurdle about watching that show when I was younger was that I would sometimes be brought to tears of frustration, imagining how scared and distressed I’d be if Mabel did that shit to me.

THE POINT of this tangent is that saying “the 2012 turtles aren’t abusive because I do that stuff with my siblings all the time/cause teenage boys are just like that” isn’t a genuine critique because abuse isn’t just about the action it’s about the relationship. Punching your sibling who’s actually ok with being punched isn’t abuse. Punching your sibling who really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW would be genuinely upset by being punched? That is abuse.

And I find it annoying because I think we’re all aware that abuse was likely not the intent of the show. (Probably not even the text of the show but once again can’t say for sure) Maybe some dysfunction for drama, but probably not abuse, so you’re really just arguing against someone’s headcanon/personal interpretation of this show. And it’s like.. ok you have a different reading cool I guess.

In the show they aren’t treated as abusive, but fandoms are built around exploring different aspects of art that weren’t explored in canon. So I guess idk why this is a big deal.

Idk I think people have this idea that abusive = evil and always wrong. But abuse is just someone hurting you repeatedly and refusing to stop for whatever reason.

And with a show like 2012 where it’s all played for laughs it can be hard to tell if that’s how they are with each other because they’re ok with it or if that’s how they are cause they don’t know any other way. The turtles are kind of really mean in 2012, and wether that’s a familiarity kind of meanness or not is up to you in fandom, yknow?

Does Mikey actually consider Raph hitting him as like a fun part if their banter or is he coping with jokes about being physically abused? You decide! Like genuinely it can be either and I think that’s fun!

I mean obviously you all know what i’d pick, but that’s because I’m blissfully aware of what I want out of stories and what i want is nuanced discussions of abuse.

Personally, I acted very similarly to the 2012 turtles when living with my siblings, but I didn’t actually fucking like it. It was a defense mechanism because being genuine would only be met with ridicule. So I’m not inclined to agree that it’s fine because it’s just what they do.

Once again though, I doubt it was on purpose. And if you don’t think that they’re abusive then congrats! The show probably doesn’t either! So I just don’t see why people get super upset about it. Don’t you love that someone got a different story out of the same media??

Anyway obviously it doesn’t super matter and I don’t really have a horse in this race. I just got a bit annoyed with the way abuse is discussed and as a hobbyist Abuse Analyst I thought I’d weigh in.

I wrote this instead of going to sleep and it’s sooo late and also so much longer that I meant for it to be… y’all better not have bad takes in response or I’ll be annoyed as hell tomorrow morning, guh.

#nnstuff #rambling #tmnt 2012 #abuse tw #child abuse tw

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liquidstar · 2 years ago

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I've seen a lot of people in the Re:zero community hate puck with a passion and call him a hypocritical toxic father, and a good portion of them accuse him of deliberately mentally abusing Emilia so that she can be a naive pretty doll with no sense of independence and always obey him unconditionally.

How do you feel about that?

i dont think theyre wrong per say but i also do think puck genuinely loved emilia a lot- i dont think this is something up for debate. he will literally end the world if she dies. but is that what she would want??? i highly doubt it. emilia is a girl who would die for a world that has been nothing but cruel to her.

puck was never really meant to be a father, like, thats not what he was made for. hes the beast of the end not the beast of paternal love. but thats also something about him i find compelling, because he changed so much of himself because he loved this girl so much. his mentality is literally "if anything happens to her ill kill everyone in the world and then myself"

but he does baby her. extremely so. and he does treat her like a doll. remember part of their contract is literally that he does her hair, and thats why she chops off in greed:if as an act of rebellion (normal teen girl behavior honestly). he also literally never told her what sex is- shes 17 and she had no clue, and its played off as a joke at first, but subaru's "damn you puck" rings so true.

remember in wrath:if it was puck who pitched a deal with suabru to keep emilia trapped in the "princess room" away from all the danger. the whole princess room thing (in wrath:if and also in her childhood) is symbolic of her loss of autonomy in a lot of ways, especially when you remember she's NOT a princess. she's a candidate to be a KING!

and there are more damning things within their contract too, like how she literally wasnt allowed to SEE HER OWN FACE! its not made super clear in the anime, but whenever she looks at reflections she actually doesnt see anything back (not because she doesnt have one, but that she herself isnt perceiving it. and i think a lot of this also comes back to the self-recognition theme of the story, the whole reflections though eyes motif and all. remember how much of her we saw reflected only through subaru's eyes? she doesnt actually see her own reflection until she jumps inside the lake in the trial)

but i think thats also a big part of why he broke her contract with her to begin with. i think he knows she hasnt been allowed to grow up, that shes been overly babied, isolated, and kept away from things that might potentially make her feel bad. including her past, and even her present and future... breaking the contract off all at once isnt a good way to do this, i mean, her mental breakdown was so emblematic of that. but i think its important to look at what it all means for the meta narrative.

the latter half of arc 4 was absolutely emilia's arc, and a lot of it was her sort of growing up. i dont think cold turkey is a great way for a parental figure to do this to their child, but emilia was so incredibly dependent. and a lot of that was because puck MADE her dependent to begin with. for so much of her life she literally only had him... like. she was all alone in complete isolation in a frozen forest for as far back as she can remember, and everyone in the world hated her for reasons she didnt understand, and all she had was this little cat thing to be her friend. OF COURSE shes dependent on him, and of course she thinks she cant do stuff on her own (shes so fucking scared of being alone), and i think puck sort of depended on this mindset to keep her a "child" for as long as possible

but she had to grow up eventually. she's 18, maybe almost 19 by this point of the story (still unclear exactly which month we're in) and this is just as much her coming of age story as it is subaru's. (but speaking of subaru puck also guilt trips him quite a bit about emilia's deaths, even when he himself is "gone at the most important times" in emilia's words, which is not only hypocritical but also manipulative!)

all this being said i seriously love puck as a character because when he was first introduced i was like "oh god. annoying mascot character. boring" and then the beast of the end reveal happened and i was like "oh so this is going in the kyubey ripoff direction. i guess that makes sense for a dark fantasy but idrc" BUT THEN he actually ends up being like. an actual character w a lot of depth and nuance to him, a lot of it being how incredibly fucking sketchy he actually is but in a completely different way than just "evil twist mascot." between him and matsumoto from vivy, i love how tappei handles mascot characters- theyre a really hard thing to get right w/o being annoying LOL.

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yelenasdiary · 1 year ago

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Read this or don't, that's completely fine. I was going to explain everything in a reply to an ask that I was sent but an anon that has nothing to do with this, they are lovely! I just think a post on its own is more appropriate.

Below the cut I warn you that topics like, Sexual Assault, Physical & Mental abuse are spoken about. Please do not bother to read this if you're not comfortable. I literally do not expect anybody to read this, I am simply posting this because of how I am feeling towards the asks I received before I went to bed last night.

I just want to say that I've been open about certain things in my life on here and that is simply because I want my blog to welcome everybody (within reason). I want those who unfortunately have been through similar stuff to feel seen, heard and know you are loved! I want those who feel alone to know that you're never alone, I am here for you, my blog is here for you.

This isn't the first time I have received asks about my sexual experiences. A month or two ago I received a spam of asks that I never answered because of how disturbing and outright disgusting they were. Now, after last night, I feel that I need post this. I am not asking for anything in return, I just want to make that clear. All I want is for people to understand the hurt I am currently feeling.

I've always been open on here about the fact that I am a virgin. It's nothing that I feel ashamed about, I don't think there is anything wrong with it. I know there are plenty of people like myself who are also virgins. I wish there were more people who are open about being a virgin, if people can be so open about the fact they aren't a virgin, why can't we be open about the fact we are?

So when this anon asked if I was a virgin, I was honest and said yes. My mind was already racing with "oh god, what's next?" and I was just hoping whoever they are was jus being curious. But instead, I feel like they've made me ashamed of the fact I am a virgin, 25 and write smut.

TW; SA, Physical & Mental Abuse Mentioned -

A few of you would already know that unfortunately yes, I am a victim of sexual assault. I was a child and it was something that happened daily for a couple of years. Due to this, I have trauma, PTSD, depression and anxiety. I grew up with little knowledge on the basics of sex because of how triggering it was for me. I couldn't sit in on sexual education classes, I couldn't joke around about penis's with my friends let along look at one. For so long, I genuinely believed what happened to me was normal. I was 12 when I realised it wasn't.

It took me years to even be okay with the topic of sex, to see it in movies or even think of it. My sexuality wasn't something I always questioned, I had a big crush on Bieber during my teen years and there were a few other male celebrities that I found rather attractive, it wasn't until I was 17 that I saw women in a different way and tbh, the feeling I got from thinking about myself in a relationship with a woman was a lot more comforting then it was to thinking of myself with a male.

Did my abuse make me bisexual? Maybe. I don't know. I don't really care. I like women a lot more than I like men, I feel more comfortable talking to women than I do men.

Did my abuse stop me from having 'normal' teenage experiences? Yes. I have never physically been with anybody, I have never kissed anybody nor have I ever been on a date. Is that sad? maybe to some, to me? No.

I have little to no trust in males. Given that my abuser also physically abused me for such little things and mentally, I don't know what it feels like to not have the thoughts I do about myself. This person has ruined so much of my life and has had control over what I do because of the trauma they caused me.

But all that aside for a moment, I am still a human. I am a woman who still feels things. I am learning every day of new things. I have done plenty of research for the things I felt I missed out on in school. I have a best friend who is so fucking patient and understanding with me that he will explain things to me if needed.

Writing & reading smut over the last year has been really good for me. I don't mean that in a weird way, I mean that in a way it has helped me explore things I didn't know were a thing, it has helped me grow more comfortable with sex and that sex is a normal thing. Don't worry, I know what is written in smut is purely fiction, I know what happens in porn isn't real. I am not stupid.

But I can't sit here and say that smut has been really helpful. Some of you might not understand that and that's okay. But I have come a long way with being comfortable and finally feeling like I can be open about things I enjoy.

Back to this anon.

Yes, I am 25 and never had sex. I have never voluntarily sucked a guy off. i have never voluntarily slept with a male, touched a male or seen a males body. Why any of that is important to you makes no sense to me. You have brought back things that I wish to not think about. You have made me feel triggered and as though I shouldn't be writing such topics because of my lack of experience. You had no consideration whats so ever and I believe found it rather funny.

I am feeling so many feelings and having thoughts that I wish to express but I know you'll most likely see it has a sob story and make matters worse. What I do hope though is that if you have read this that you understand that your words and actions hurt. I am not weak for telling you this, I am not weak for not having any sexual experience, I am not weak for asking you to understand that your thoughtless actions were not called for.

I do not need to have sex to know what I am doing. I do not need to have sex with a cis male to know how to write about dicks. I do not need you to make me feel ashamed of this either.

This is already such a long post and I don't even expect anybody to still be reading this but if you are, please, please remember to always be kind! spread love, support and happiness. You honest have no idea what your words and actions can do to somebody. Be aware and be considerate, you would never want your closest friends to feel that way I am currently feeling.

I am sending love to everybody, if you ever need a friend to talk too my DMS//asks are always open. I will listen and be whoever it is you need 💜

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beyondtheegress · 4 months ago

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HUGE POST ABOUT EUPHORIA

Euphoria is a crazy ass show

*Disclaimer: these are just my own opinions, and I might discuss spoilers so beware!*

I've seen Euphoria a few times but haven't had the chance to watch it recently. And this recent rewatch has got me thinking.

1) The main thing, the large majority of the reason I like this show is the visuals. You have the admit the actual filmmaking is beautiful. So many shots are visually stunning and iconic. So much creativity was happening surrounding the show, especially in the makeup world. The way the show looks is the main reason I turn it on, just being honest. It's fun brain candy until it makes you want to kill yourself.

2) I think the choice for Rue to verbally narrate was a masterful decision. Of course she can be unreliable within her own story but outside of herself she is generally all-knowing about the other characters' stories; she is sardonic and sometimes provides relief for the audience. I liked it.

3) Honestly the representation was kinda nice. They never actually pointed and screamed that someone may be different from the white heteronormative standards. Everyone just existed and had no real issue with identities. (Nate excluded but we'll get there)

4) I never liked Jules and her inability to ever communicate a single emotion in a non-destructive way. But to be fair they BUTCHERED Jules' character in season two. Cal's whole story is so depressing; just made me sad. Love Maddie, she's so herself I think she's one of the strongest, most sure characters. Cassie really needs therapy. Kat's focus was super weak which was disappointing because she had a really fun personality. I actually really like Lexi, she's the most normal. FEZCO, I love that character; he actually has interesting motives and he's got a good heart.

5) Nate Jacobs. He is so incredibly frightening. His behavior is much more extreme than just feeling repressed. He broke into a man's house, beat him within an inch of his life, showered and dressed in that man's clothes, and then took his gf on a date (who he later physically abuses and puts a gun to her head). He is wired wrong, he enjoys having power over other people and he's dangerous.

6) The music is addictive.

7) The whole second season is absolutely bonkers and makes very little sense. I'm aware there was a lot going on behind the scenes and unfortunately I think that bled through on screen. The second season is just so DISORGANIZED. Characters get forgotten about for extra titty shots, it's kind of obnoxious.

8) Everyday I worry about that big bag of pills and the fact Rue owes an emotionless drug lord thousands. And her mom/friends got riiiiiid of it!!!! That shit is so scary. That was a loose end that desperately needed tying up.

9) WHY the fuck was this set in high school. The age thing was just a plot device and nothing more; it added very little. There's almost zero paternal consequences and how often do you hear any of the characters talk about class or homework?? Like that's all you do in high school. This should have been set in college. Not even to mention the massive amounts of graphic sex that's supposed to be between teenagers. College. Should've been college.

These are just my opinions! It's fun to debrief after watching something that has tons of plot holes, problems, and toxicity.

{This show paired with Bojack Horseman make for grade A emotional self harm 😅}

#euphoria #opinions #hbo max #max #tv shows #rue bennett #reviews #iknowimlatetosharingtheseopinions #2019

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drakyions · 5 months ago

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all i ever do is ramble about ff7 on here. but i have another ramble that's just a cleaned up discord ramble <3 thanks ever crisis for fucking me up again

anybody else insane about the fact that shinra is continuously shown to prey on literal children or the otherwise less fortunate in general and makes them complicit in horrific acts of crime and colonization under guises of unity or abuse so horrific that it's inconceivable to imagine doing otherwise? anyone else insane about how shinra constantly pits the 'lesser men' against each other to avoid any sort of rebellion against them?

sephiroth, unable to see the kids fighting for their island as simple children because he is one too and does not see why that's so messed up. children are not innocent, untouchable beings - they are capable being hurt and hurting in return, of being a weapon just like he is. they are no different than any man. it's kill or be killed, in his own words. angeal, who grew up poor, constantly clinging to his ideals of honor because it's all he has, becoming a soldier (in his eyes, unaware of shinra's involvement with him) to make money to help repay his family - and given his actions towards others, likely to help people in his situation too. zack being a starry eyed wannabe hero, cloud being an ostracized small town country boy trying to prove himself, etc. etc. glenn, a full grown adult who desperately needs money for his family's survival, is the first person to go "this is wrong, i can't do this" only after participating in the slaughter of an entire people. anybody else want to SCREAM about how shinra takes these otherwise kindhearted people and sinks their claws in them so hard they are fully complicit+active in normalized horrific acts. does anybody else think about how barret and yuffie are actually extremely important characters within the narrative as survivors of the other side of shinra's - and by extension, those who work for them - horrific actions that are often downplayed/ignored/etc.

it just makes me so sad when people ignore What shinra is actually doing, boil down wutai to a big joke, woobify cloud or zack, and so on. i am not trying to say your innocent baby cloud strife a definitively bad man by saying he willingly joined a company that's committing atrocities, im saying it's an important part of his character (especially considering how he grows!) and serves the worldbuilding of ff7 of how deeply rooted shinra's ideals are within the world. in universe its insanely normalized to be nasty against anything that's against shinra. shinra's hold is so deep that even barret gets upset at the idea that he's aligned with wutai because of shinra's propaganda despite us knowing firsthand (through knowledge we'd only get as a player) wutai hasn't done jack shit to deserve that reputation because all its ever done was try to fight back. yuffie is like that for a reason. she's a child who has passively witnessed, and at least directly witnessed once (you know, the mission zack was on) violence towards her home and her people, and is trying to cope with it and take things into her own hands the only way a sixteen year old like her knows how. it's tragic! and many people ignore the 'fan favorites' active participation or complicity in, even though it serves their character and the narrative better.

to drive in the point, the downfall of shinra isn't even due to rebellion of those it has hurt through oppression/conquering. it was set in motion way before that due to a connected web of relationships relating to personal actions done to a small group of people. that's so fucked! not in a "bad writing" way, but just in a realistic-world fucked up way! its not "evil company gets whats coming to it from Rebellion by the Good Guys!" its "evil company gets fucked over because it fucked over some specific people on a personal level and that sets other things in motion." even with our main gang of 'heroes', OG makes a point of a lot of our casts motivations being more on a personal level and that Saving The World/Fucking Over Shinra just happens to be a side-consequence of that.

i love ff7 so much and i wish people would stop trying to sanitize or woobify the darker aspects of it when they serve such an important part of the narrative... anyway tldr

#Hi sorry i forgot about my tumblr again.#ff7 #i have like a turbofixation going on right now #i went over this like 50 times to try to verify i wasn't misremembering things... but i bet i did somewhere #anyway welcome to my twisted mind. im always down to talk #331

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sirowsky-stories · 1 year ago

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Collision

Part 9

Description: Taking a gamble, Pero seeks out the people responsible for the threat to Niki's life, ready to end it, one way or another.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, Pero's pov, conspiracy, cursing, angst, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. TW: mentions of child-abuse and rape, as well as spousal abuse and coerced self-cutting. (Not committed by any of the main characters.) Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 6520 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, but here is the final part of this series. I partly wish that I'd had more inspiration for a different ending to this, but I'm also not sure what that ending might've been. Anyway, thank you to anyone who toughed it out and comes to see how this ends! And to those of you who showered this story with your enthusiasm while it was active: You're all superheroes!

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It’s been three days since his run-in with the general’s assassin when he finally finds a way into the secure military base which the man himself operates from. All of Pero’s informants have been on constant high alert since he informed them of his need to gain access to Hayword, preferably quietly, but by any means necessary should it come to that. And they haven’t disappointed.

The Qwerty brothers are the ones who bring him the crucial intel, having managed to trick an off-duty officer into divulging a few tidbits of information during a drinking game the night before. If there’s one thing the superstar wannabes are good at, it’s holding their liquor. He had expected them to try and worm their way out of the deal, using this success as their bargaining chip, but surprisingly, they seem only excited to give him something useful. They even offer to act as his muscle, which would in no way benefit them if he fails. And come to think of it, not really if he should win either.

He turns them down, though. It’s easier to sneak in undetected if it’s just him. But he does consider it, because undisciplined though the men might be, they are formidable killers and completely unbothered by the status or power of whomever their target might be. They’d be handy in a close-quarter fight, no doubt. As it is, this mission requires finesse rather than brute force, so he heads to the compound alone.

It’s big. Departments of almost all branches of the US military operates from here, which is why Hayword has so many resources at his disposal. But Pero suspects that not many people here are aware of the real reason why such a decorated and high-profile officer hasn’t risen further in status yet. His accolades on paper more than suggests he should be eligible for promotion into the very highest ranks of the US Army, but here he is, commanding just one base in the District of Colombia.

They don’t know that this is as far as he will ever go, because of the practices he applies to achieve those victories. That he’s a precision tool being used where he can operate the most freely, while still under strict supervision. They have no idea the man is responsible for entire massacres, and that he considers such actions to be normal practice. To him, there is no such thing as an atrocity, so long as it’s committed in the name of protecting American citizens.

And the fact that only a handful of people within the highest seats of the government know this, is also precisely why killing the general won’t solve anything. It would just spark an even worse manhunt. Which means that Pero has to play this much more delicately. But he’s prepared himself as well as he possibly could have.

A precision strike, perfectly timed and executed is what it’ll take to succeed here tonight, but if all his assets have performed exactly as instructed, there’s every chance it could work. He chooses to focus on that, rather than the overwhelming odds he might fail, as he begins his perilous endeavor into the base. This is for Niki. So, even if he dies trying, it’s already worth it.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

“That’s it?”

“It’s all I can find. He heads for one of the neighboring buildings, by the looks of it, but I can’t see him beyond the subway cameras.”

“So, what? He’s just gone…?” Niki half screams, half sobs, because this is more than she can take right now.

“No, no, no, hey…” William counters softly, taken off guard by how strongly she reacts, rising to his feet and turning away from the screens to give her his full focus. “He would never leave you. You gotta know that.”

She does know that. In the safest and most tightly guarded part of her heart, she knows. But her mind falters, corroded by the terror she’s been living with for weeks now, and she closes her eyes against his words, unable to allow herself the hope.

“Something’s happened while he was out, either someone spotted him or he’s afraid that someone will, that’s the only reason he’d behave like this. Trying to throw someone off our scent. So, now more than ever, it’s imperative that we don’t screw up. Do you hear me, Niki?”

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

Once inside the compound, Pero moves fast. He needs to locate the general before anyone clocks him as someone who doesn’t belong there, although the stolen uniform he’s wearing helps to make him stand out less. There are way too many people to try and sneak past, so he has to walk among them as though he belongs, knowing who to salute and how to behave like just another cog in the military machine.

Which is why he’s spent the past three days scouting the base from afar, learning it’s rhythm, routine, and discipline. He knows everything he needs to know, including that the rank indicated on his uniform gives him access to the building where Hayword mostly operates from. He gets in without problems, thanks to an immaculate fake ID badge with a built-in electronic signature for all locks on the premises, courtesy of the best forger in the world.

The general is already in there, he’s made sure to time it so that the man will be in his office, probably having lunch, when Pero gets to him. This is where routine and punctuality becomes a man’s enemy, because those things make him predictable, and the trespasser has spent enough time observing him to know that he never misses his lunch. Mrs. Hayword makes it for him, with outstanding precision.

On his way there, Pero encounters a nervous cadet, probably only given access to this building while she learns about the real-life application of military forces, because she doesn’t have the rank required to actually work in here. Ordinarily, that would require her to stay on the heels of a chaperone, or supervisor, but she’s all alone when he meets her in an otherwise empty corridor. Most all corridors are empty, since personnel here work primarily at desks and with computers, not requiring them to move around much within departments.

“Sir!” she salutes as she approaches him, and as soon as he’s saluted her in return, she launches into a nervous rant. “Sir, I’m so sorry, I don’t wanna be a bother and I’m sure you’re very busy, but I’ve lost my captain, and I don’t know what to do. Can you help me? If I screw this up, I won’t pass this month’s evaluation…”

He checks his watch. It’ll take him another two minutes to reach the general’s office and by his calculations, he has at least ten minutes before his mark might be finishing his meal. But he’s not keen on going off-script. Even the smallest deviation could be fatal to his mission.

“Do you know where you’re supposed to be right now, cadet?” he asks, hoping to ascertain if this might be a quick fix.

“Uh, I think we were heading for Logistics, but then I went to the bathroom and when I got out-…”

“Straight down this hall, take a left, then follow the corridor all the way to the end. Logistics is the last door on your right,” he cuts her off, then continues on his way.

“Oh, gosh, thank you so much, Major!” she chirps while she starts moving in the direction he’s indicated.

He has the entire building memorized from top to bottom, so simply giving directions was never gonna be an issue. But as he’s about to turn a corner, he hears the young woman say something, more to herself than anyone else, and her words manage to grind him to a halt.

“…I’m enough of a failure as it is.”

Precisely why hearing these words from this unknown woman (well, more like girl, really) affects him so profoundly in that moment, escapes his understanding at first. But as he turns back and sees her initial excitement at knowing where to go, fade with the understanding that she’ll likely get an earful once she gets there, and how her shoulders slump with the realization that she’s already failed, something stirs in his gut.

Some dormant paternal instinct, maybe, brought to the surface by even the frailest possibility that he might one day have to see his own child suffer with self-doubt and insecurity.

“Cadet,” he calls back softly, and she immediately stops, whirling around and adapting the correct pose for when an officer addresses her, with her hands tight to her sides and her feet close together. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Nineteen…” he repeats, tasting the word while his mind makes a quick jump back in time, recalling his own, less than excellent youth. “You’re in the military rather than a gang. You take pride in accomplishing a task, rather than expect the world to cater to you. You worry about how to be a good soldier, when you could’ve just as easily thrown your life away in any number of ways and for any sort of shallow reasons. But you’re here. Where everything is hard and challenging, testing yourself to the limits of your abilities, day after day.”

She grows teary-eyed as she listens, and he wonders if no one has ever seen or pointed out her strength before. Just as he wonders why he does now, and why this girl’s strength even matters to him.

“You’re not a failure, cadet.”

He can see her open her mouth to say something, but her throat is too tightly closed, so she nods instead, while a small but infinitely grateful smile adorns her lips, before she turns and sprints down the hall, no doubt worried about how late she already is. And perhaps eager to conceal her tears from someone she believes to be her superior.

Pero watches her leave, even though he’s on a schedule, and a strange feeling that this encounter was important to him, lingers in his body. Something warm but also frightening. Once she’s gone, he shakes his head a fraction and then resumes his course for the general’s office, checking his watch again on the way. Three minutes to spare.

Reaching the correct door, he pauses and listens, confirming someone’s actually in there, before he knocks just once and then steps in without waiting for an invitation. He only alerted the man to the presence of someone at his door to ensure that he’ll be looking this way as Tovar steps in, since he knows the man will immediately look him up and down in search of any visible weapons. And finding none, he’ll trick himself into a false sense of security, which is exactly where his enemy wants him. Oblivious to the real danger.

“Good day, general. My apologies for interrupting your lunch, sir, but I’m afraid I have a rather urgent matter to discuss,” he politely addresses the older man, who looks mostly annoyed, but also confounded.

“I’m sorry, do I know you, major?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what makes you think you can interrupt my lunch at all?”

“Urgency, as mentioned, sir. I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

“I don’t care how god damned urgent you think whatever this is might be, I don’t know you, which means you’re not part of my unit. So, you can either get out or get arrested,” the general barks, glaring at him now over his plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes.

“You’re correct, sir, I’m not part of your unit. In fact, I’m not a major or even listed in any military,” Pero confesses calmly, following the other man’s movements as he quickly rises from his chair and picks up his phone, probably to call the military police.

But his uninvited guest doesn’t flinch.

“Mary does make wonderful lunches for you. There’s such dedication to every detail, so much time spent on planning and preparation, one might think she’s a chef,” he says, layering every word with implication, and seeing the man freeze before hitting any button as he realizes the fraud before him isn’t harmless. “Even the plate is immaculately prepared. Not one drop of sauce in the wrong place, everything perfectly measured and laid out in exact proportions… almost as if she worries that getting one detail wrong would see her punished for her failure.”

Hayword is fuming by the time he finishes, but he keeps his feelings under control for the time being, undoubtedly hoping to learn more about his enemy. Although, the fact that he puts the phone down without having attempted any calls, reveals to his guest just how uncomfortable the man suddenly is, and how much power Pero has over him right now.

“Everyone here knows my wife; you could’ve asked around for that information. If you’re trying to intimidate me-…”

“She cuts herself in the evenings,” he clips the general off, and sees his quarry literally swallow whatever he’d been about to say. “You’ve taught her how to do it exactly right so that it’ll hurt without causing any real damage. Because you like to watch.”

The older man’s rage is undiminished, but his lips remain sealed, because he knows where this is going, and while he might not be ashamed of it, he damned well knows what happens if it gets out.

“Her pain is the only thing that arouses you, so you stand there at the edge of the bed, stroking yourself while you watch her cut repeatedly at your command, just so you can shove your dick down her throat and choke her half to death once she’s got you hard enough,” Pero continues, letting his disdain for the man be heard in every syllable now. “I’m curious, do you think your unit would have your back if they found out what happened to your first two wives?”

Hayword’s anger seems to dissipate now, because this is entirely unexpected. He’s been assured that no evidence remains of those women, or of the crimes he committed against them. But Tovar is no ordinary man. Secrets find him as if they had a mind and a will of their own.

“You’re bluffing…” the general tries, although his tone is all but convincing.

To prove that he isn’t, the trespasser produces an envelope from his jacket pocket, throwing it on the desk for the other man to retrieve. He’s not stupid enough to hand anything directly to the trained military officer with no conscience or morals, as that would practically be an invitation for the man to engage in physical combat.

Hayword picks it up and pulls the top open, sliding the one folded piece of paper out and taking a step back before he unfolds it, since looking at it requires him to take his eyes off his enemy, and he wants a little more space between them first, to give himself another second of reaction time, should Tovar decide to attack when his focus is elsewhere. But one look at the paper in his hands is enough to make him realize that his unwanted guest fights his battles in a different way.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks between tight jaws, as he refocuses on the man who stands in the middle of his office, with his arms hanging loosely down his sides, seeming as unbothered by this encounter as he would meeting a tree in the forest.

“My name is Mr. Hood,” he replies, and then pauses to let the general absorb that, clearly familiar with the infamous name, before he continues. “Ordinarily, I never work for anyone other than myself, but in this instance, I’ve made an exception. And her name is Nikita Morse.”

The older man doesn’t seem terribly surprised to hear that, but his mood shifts again because he’s well aware of how important that woman is right now, not just to the US military, and even government, but to the general himself. Failure to ascertain or assassinate this particular target wouldn’t go over well with his superiors. Best case scenario is that he merely loses his job.

“If you know anything about Morse, you know we can’t just leave her be,” he counters, but there isn’t much conviction behind his words anymore.

“And I’m here to inform you that if you don’t, I will not only ruin your life… I’ll come after everyone. Straight up the chain of command, all the way to the President himself,” Pero cautions, meaning every word.

“You’d never get close to anyone else. I’ve seen your face, we’ll be able to track your every move from now on, you won’t be able to take a shit without us hearing about it.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary. You see, my method has always been to use middle-hands for everything, and this is no different. My face won’t help you because I won’t be the one who delivers the damning evidence to the courts, or the spouses, or the children. I’ve been doing this for a long time, general. Long enough to know how to infiltrate your innermost circles and get your terrified wife to confess to exactly what you do to her, just like I know how colonel Peters doesn’t go to church for the sermons, or why the Chairman himself has no less than three hidden bank accounts in different parts of the world.”

Hayword merely swallows hard at that, but Tovar can see how he’s still looking for a way out, refusing to accept that this one man could ever do so much damage.

“So, you’re willing to die for this woman? Because you gotta know no matter what you might have on me, I can’t let you waltz out of here.”

“Well now, the problem isn’t really what I have on you, is it?” he taunts, knowing he’s still got the upper hand here and ready to play his cards as savagely as he possibly can.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Tyler…” Pero says softly, and all color drains from the general’s face.

Because even he knows that out of all the messed up shit his family has going on, his oldest son takes the cake, by miles.

“Where was it you found him the first time? Arizona? With those poor boys he’d raped just bleeding out on the ground… And what did you do? You helped him cover it up. He killed two little kids, and you just swept it under the rug like it never happened. The second time was in Tennessee, if I’m not mis-…”

“Alright! You’ve made your god damned point!” the general all but roars as the truth gets to be too much for him. “Just… stop.”

But his unwanted guest isn’t one to let his marks off easy.

“I can’t do that. Unless you stop first. That’s the only way this ends, because even if I die, my informants will continue to do my bidding. They’ll have no choice. I’ve made sure of it.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous the information your girl sits on is? How powerful that knowledge would be in the hands of our enemies?” Hayword presses, but his tone betrays nuances of desperation now.

“Yes, I do. But the problem here, general, is what you have failed to understand about all this, which is that when you turn on your own… the definition of an enemy suddenly becomes very broad. Right now, for instance, you’re my biggest enemy. The US government is my enemy. Not because of my own history or even your politics, but simply because you used and discarded some of the greatest scientific minds of this country, as if they were worthless. How am I supposed to trust anyone who treats their own assets that way?”

“No, you just blackmail your own fucking assets instead…”

“The difference being that I’ve never tried to hide it from them or gone back on my word to leave them alone if they do what I demand. I tell them from the start exactly what’s happening and how to avoid it escalating into something truly unpleasant, and if they play along, nothing bad happens to them. You told these people they were free to go live their lives, and then you hunted them down like cattle to the slaughter. I’m no saint, but at least I don’t hide behind an army so I can pretend to be the good guy.”

The general has no comeback for that, but he’s deeply unhappy with how this conversation is going, that much is evident from the ever-growing hopelessness in his eyes.

“Considering what I’ve just told about myself and my methods, I have only one more thing to ask you, sir,” Pero finally determines, holding the man’s gaze with pure steel in his own, as he delivers the last question. “Will you comply with my demand, and seize all pursuit, physical and digital, of the innocent woman we both know as Nikita Morse?”

“It’s not within my power to command.”

“Yes, it is. In fact, you are the only person with the power to make that command. If you weren’t, I’d be in someone else’s office right now.”

“I can’t risk the safety of this country-…”

“And losing the entire government, along with all trust from the American people, isn’t risking the safety of this country?” Tovar counters, letting his voice turn sharp and somewhat threatening to highlight the ridiculousness of the man’s reasoning.

The general falters at that, unable to think of a retort. He’s painted into a corner, held hostage on one side by the responsibilities he carries against his superiors, and on the other, by Pero’s ultimatum. Either way, he risks terrifying consequences both to himself and those around him, so the only questions which remains, is whether he values family or his work the highest.

Pero is ordinarily exceptional at reading people and their intentions, but on this occasion, he can’t determine what the general will decide. With how he treats his wife, one could be forgiven for thinking he doesn’t give a shit about her, but on the other hand, he’s gone to great lengths and sacrificed a lot in the name of protecting his son.

So, the trespasser waits. And the man deliberates.

Then…

“I have your word that my family affairs will not be publicized, in any forum, on any type of platform, physical or digital, if I agree to call off the search on Morse?”

“If you pick up that phone and make the call to the Chief, declaring her dead and dealt with, right now in front of my eyes, and give me every assurance that no further efforts will be spent, from any unit, military, private or otherwise, on further pursuing her, covertly or openly, then yes. I will disappear, and you will never see me again.”

“And what about the outside sources who already pursue her?”

“They’ll be dealt with; I can promise you that.”

The general takes one more moment to consider, and then makes his decision. He picks up the phone, and just to make sure that he knows he can’t trick his way out of this, Pero recites the number he needs to call, checking that the man does indeed punch in the correct digits and insisting that he put the phone on speaker. The call is brief and to the point, and when it’s over, the unwanted guest leaves the same way he walked in.

No alarms start blaring. No one tries to stop him. The general has kept his word. For now. But Tovar fully intends to keep monitoring him closely.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

Two months after he disappeared, Niki has all but stopped believing he’s ever coming back. She never stands by the curtained windows anymore, dreaming of stepping outside into the freedom and fresh air. She no longer pesters William for updates, desperate for any scrap of news about her lover. She persists. Her life is a prison-like routine of exercise, food, and sleep. Nothing more.

If not for the baby, she would’ve given up by now and taken her chances on the streets. But she can’t risk the life she carries. His child, and maybe all that’s left of him. Weeks ago, she made a choice to think of him as dead, and allow herself to grieve him, because otherwise she would’ve been buried under the endless torrent of uncertainty. So, to her mind, he’s gone, and he isn’t coming back.

In his place, Will does what he can, taking care of the housework and making sure that Niki follows her routines to stay healthy and give the baby the best conditions available. He stopped telling her about any leads he finds a while back, after noticing that it only ever upsets her when nothing comes of them. But she knows he still searches. That the hours spent in front of those screens aren’t merely to make sure he knows if someone picks up their trail, but also to look for any clue his missing friend might’ve left for him.

She worries about him. He’s a fragile person, prone to denial, but eventually he will have to accept that his searching is in vain, and when that happens, however long it might take for him to reach that point, it’s going to absolutely destroy him. But she suspects it’ll take him years to get there.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

Without Will’s help, it takes three times longer for Pero to find the people he needs to find next. But he can’t risk contacting them. Hayword has thus far stuck to his word, and so long as the three of them only have the Chinese element to worry about, he’s not gonna jeopardize their best chance of getting out of this in one piece, just because he misses Niki.

He does though. So fucking much. It’s impossible not to think about her, not to wonder if her belly has begun to swell, or worry that she’s had to come to terms with having lost the baby, without him there to grieve with her and comfort her. That’s the hardest part. Not knowing if she needs him right now.

But he’s close to finishing this, he’s finally found the person who’s after her. It took this long only because the woman was hiding behind a network of decoys, but once Pero figured it out, locating the actual culprit wasn’t very hard. What is going to be hard, though, is getting to her. She’s got layers upon layers of security, and lives in what’s essentially a fortress, forcing her enemy to keep his distance and observe.

Mr. Hood is not a man who enjoys violence, and although he is good at fighting when it’s required of him, he’s always preferred a more elegant solution. It generally creates less ripples on the water, less potential future complications. But this time, he may have no choice. His research into this woman has revealed no skeletons, probably not because there aren’t any, but more likely due to her exceptional skills at manipulation.

She runs her miniature empire not by instilling fear in her subjects, but by making them love her and thus desire nothing more than to protect her. To get to her, Pero is gonna need to get creative. He already knows that what she wants from the information Niki can provide, is to use it as leverage against the male dominance of her country’s leaders and decision makers. She wants a seat at the table. But what he can’t figure out is how to offer her something either better than the weapon’s research, or something scary enough to make her back off.

Everyone has something in their history they don’t want people to know. And this is always especially true of the rich. The problem is that her circle is so tight he can’t get to her from the outside. Can’t rummage through her secrets by coercing someone to feed them to him, because everyone who might know them live in the fortress with her. All equally inaccessible. Unless… he tries something really stupid.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

“Come on, Tovar,” William grumbles to himself, having once again checked all his online traps for signs of the missing member of their group, and come up dry. “Give me a damned crumb, will ya.”

It’s the middle of the night and Niki’s asleep, so he keeps his voice down, but this is how he spends most nights these days. Hunched over his keyboard, restlessly searching in ever more unlikely places. He’s got programs running non-stop, some designed to look for Pero’s physical description in coroners reports from all over the world, others to look for mentions of his alias in people’s voice mails, emails, text messages, and so on. He’s got dozens of these programs running every minute of every day.

Nothing pings anymore. After almost three months, there are no leads. Nikita gave up on him a while ago. But not because she doesn’t want him to come back or because she doesn’t believe in him. She gave up because hope hurts too much. She doesn’t have a choice now, but to focus her efforts on her baby, and she tries. But Will can see how it tortures her. That however much she might try and convince herself he’s dead and that she’s grieved him, the hope is still there.

That’s why Will hardly ever rests. Even if he can’t bring her partner back to her, he can at least try to give her closure, if indeed Pero has been lost. But unlike Niki, the veteran still leans on his hope. He still believes that the mysterious Mr. Hood is alive, working hard on keeping her safe. He’s got too much experience with the man to believe he could be bested even by enemies of this caliber.

And what drives his hope most of all, is actually the lack of findings. Because if Tovar had been killed, someone would’ve been yelling about it, somewhere in the world. A person like him doesn’t just vanish, not when so many people have reason to fear what he knows, and how that information might be distributed upon his demise. No, he’s still alive. Plotting, scheming, hunting. Wherever he is, he’s not done.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

It was far from a perfect plan, but as he now stands before his quarry, finally, after weeks of patiently waiting in a dungeon, he’s smiling internally at the fact that he’s about to win this war. Getting himself captured might’ve seemed counterintuitive, but it had been the only way to get himself inside the fortress, where he’d been able to start sowing seeds of doubt within the residents and learn more about his captor in the process.

And now he has the woman herself, Baozhai Gao, in front of him at last. He knows how to get her to back off, just like he knows that she’s actually not a villain. Her entire life has been spent in a silent war, a constant threat to her existence, and all she wants is just to have enough power that she doesn’t have to fight anymore. Something he can easily give her.

“I’m told you are responsible for the loss of my best team,” she says once he’s standing before her, tied up and on his knees, but otherwise unharmed.

He’s waited until today to disclose to his guards that he knows all about the house in the woods and the six operatives who never returned from there, since Gao clearly doesn’t know who he is by face alone.

“It was my house they tried to infiltrate in search of Miss Morse,” he admits, and sees her interest pique at the mention of Niki. “Unfortunately for them, I’m a very resourceful person. And someone who cares a great deal about the woman you seek.”

“You know where she is,” Gao hungrily replies, too enamored by learning this to realize that what he’s really saying is, he’s never going to help her find her quarry.

“I know a lot of things, Baozhai. Like what your brother did to you when you were twelve. How he tried to sell you so that your parents would only have him to dote on. I know about The Park and what you were made to do there, the things you had to do to free yourself, the things the ensuing guilt then made you do to yourself… I know you’ve had about the shittiest life anyone could imagine and that all you want is just to be free of men and our endless pursuit of power.”

She looks absolutely sick to hear him say this, and he understands that, because this woman has never shared her secrets with anyone. Not really. She carries her deepest burdens alone, specifically so that no one can use them against her. And now here’s this foreigner, this outsider, who somehow knows her innermost truths.

“How?” she challenges, and there’s both anger and desperation dripping from the one little word as it falls across her lips.

“That’s not as important as why.”

“It’s important to me.”

“Only because you fear that someone else might learn about it, but I can assure you, they won’t. I’m not here to hurt you, just to make a deal.”

“A deal? You mean blackmail me into leaving Nikita Morse alone.”

“No. I mean offer you something even more valuable, in exchange for her freedom,” he counters, deliberately using the word freedom instead of suggesting she should cooperate, since he knows what that word means to Gao.

She doesn’t respond verbally, but her eyes tell him to go on.

“I can provide you with damning information about half the world’s most influential people. From leaders and corporate whales to those you’ve never even heard of, but who’s networks of information are crucial to the balance of power within this world.”

“If you really have this kind of information, why not use it yourself?” she challenges, not ready to believe that anyone could have that level of power and just sit on it.

“Because I’ve never had any ambitions. All I’ve ever wanted is just for people to stop being cruel for the pettiest fucking reasons, but I could never find anyone who didn’t disappoint. And then I met Niki. And now all I want is just to be with her. To not have to run or hide for the rest of our lives. To find out if our baby made it-…”

He has to stop then, because the thought reminds him of how long he’s been away, and it tortures him to think of how Niki must hate him now. How she must’ve come to the conclusion that he’s either abandoned her completely, or that he’s dead. If the baby did make it, she’ll be halfway through the pregnancy by now, but unable to see a doctor or an OBGYN, unable to even leave the apartment. And he can imagine what something like that would do to a person like her.

Whether Gao believes him or not, she decides that the information he offers is too valuable to pass up and agrees to a deal. It takes him another two days to convince her of his truthfulness, however, which he does by offering up absolutely crushing evidence against one of her worst adversaries, but then she finally lets him go.

-=¤=-

Returning to New York is just as terrifying as it had been to leave. He has to be cautious, though. Not rush back to the apartment building, but instead take the time to make sure Hayword is still keeping his word. He makes his presence in the city known by walking around where dozens of different cameras will capture his face and body in detail, and then he makes himself disappear again, sticking to the shadows as he watches and waits.

After five days, he decides that if someone is still watching, he’ll risk it. He has to see her again, even if it means getting back on the run. He walks straight up to the front door of the building and steps inside, heading for the elevators and going to the correct floor without detours or any attempts at confusing anyone who might be tracking him.

The doors open and he walks out into the hallway, suddenly so scared that they won’t be there. That no one will answer when he knocks. He passes a painting and sees his reflection in the glass, abruptly concerned that he hasn’t dressed better, or combed his hair, or washed his hands since going to the bathroom that morning. As if any of it matters.

Instead of peepholes, there are little widescreen cameras at chest height in each apartment door, directly linked to a touchscreen inside, which automatically displays what the camera sees if there’s movement within its field of vision. So, they’ll know it’s him before they even open. If they’re still there.

His hand shakes as he raises it towards the flat surface before him, and he hesitates, taking a couple of trembling breaths before he taps on the door, so timidly that it barely makes a sound at first, and he has to coerce his hand to tap harder. His heart races while he waits, too loud in his own ears for him to hear if there are any sounds from in there. Any signs of movement. It takes so long.

Then the deadbolt turns. The handle slowly drops. The door begins to swing open.

His breath vanishes as she comes into view. Her eyes are wide but so bleak, her skin still too pale, her movements slow and cautious. But she’s fuller now. Thicker. And there’s a well-defined bump in between her hips.

All this time, he’s forced himself not to let it in. Not to allow the reality of the threat against them settle into his being, not to let his fears have any room because that would’ve broken him, and he couldn’t afford it. Those walls crumble at the sight of her, and he drops like a ton of bricks onto the threshold, collapsing to his hands and knees as the four months of terror catch up to him.

He feels her hands grip him, stronger now, but trembling just like his as she pulls him into her embrace. And he wants to hold her, but his arms won’t obey. Wants to kiss her but his body is suddenly so heavy. Somewhere to his right, he hears William ask if it’s over, and he manages to nod. Shortly after, sunlight streams into the apartment as the man has apparently pulled the curtains back. How dearly he must’ve longed to get to do that.

Then the sweetest voice he’s ever heard in all his life, whispers in his ear.

“I love you, Pero.”

She’d promised him she’d say it. When it was over.

“I… I love you… both,” he stammers through the tears, just as he’d promised.

THE END

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Thank you for taking this journey with me!

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x original female character #pero tovar x ofc #modern!pero #modern!au #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall au #the great wall modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories

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