#TW Past Traumatic Event

[the-sidekick-club]

Tea on the rooftop garden ☕

@heroes-villains-side-blog★​​@tratieisdabest★@just-a-space-rabbit​​  

TW: Past Traumatic Event Mentioned, Serious Injury

❘〣❘〣❘✿❘〣❘〣❘

“Thank you for inviting me over for tea, Kim,” Mender said as she took another cinnamon roll. 

Kim smiled in reply. “Well, tea and cinnamon rolls are always better when you can share them, and sorry for the spontaneous message.”

They were sitting on the terrace of Kim's apartment building. When Kim had moved in they'd asked the landlord if they could make a garden on the rooftop, and they were allowed to, but on the condition that they would get half of everything Kim produced. 

But despite that, Kim liked spending their free time tending to their little rooftop garden. And since it wasn't harvest season yet, the two strange friends were enjoying the last of the summer sun in Kim’s little green haven. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Mender said, munching away. “These last two weeks have been so hectic, I really needed this break. And to just get away from all the hard work with the agency for a bit.” 

“I can imagine it’s been hectic, dealing with Dragonfly and all that. I mean, Nizorro Blimp News still hasn’t stopped talking about you!” Kim said with a light smile, but when Mender was not smiling back they pivoted, “Sorry… guess it’s been a lot. Is everything okay?”

“It’s getting better,” Mender answered after a small pause. “Because of the prolonged exposure to the Desolite in the power suppression cuffs, I had to spend two nights in the med-bay, though one of those days was just for observation. Still, I don't think I’ve ever felt that ill and weak before in my life.” 

Mender looked back up at Kim, who had remained silent, and part of her wanted to ask them about that night. Mender wanted to confirm her suspicion that it was them who had actually sabotaged the weapon, which helped to save both her and Shadows... But she knew that Hirra had already tried talking to Kim about that, and that they had denied doing it. Although Mender certainly didn't believe that Kim was telling the truth, she knew that she was not going to get Kim to talk about it yet. “Just glad that Lady Alexandria took all the interviews for me, so I didn’t have to,” she finally said after the small silence.

“Well…” Kim said, “let’s just hope the worst is over and that you get a nice event-free week.” 

“Ha! In this city? Keep dreaming!” Mender said, smiling.

Meanwhile, only one block over, Hirra was sitting on another rooftop, spying down at the two with her binoculars. “I can’t believe this!” she grunted. “That crime-stopping, goody two-shoes of a hero sidekick! That's my sibling! You sibling-thief!” she yelled as she saw the two laugh at one of Kim’s jokes, still unaware of her presence. Finally, she whispered, “Time for some sneaking!” and began to move closer.

“What recipe did you use for the cinnamon rolls?” Mender asked Kim just as she was about to take another one. “They taste so different from the ones my family makes.”

“It’s a Northern recipe,” Kim answered, “it’s less sweet and has different icing. Shadow and I have been making these for years. I can give you the recipe if you like–”

“NO! YOU. WILL. NOT!” Hirra jumped down in front of the two. 

Mender immediately took a battle stance, startled. But didn't get out of it once she realized it was just Hirra. While the two were sort of friends after the creating the sidekick club, and regularly had study sessions together, the two were nemeses… ish. Anyway, to prevent harm to either friend, Kim quickly got in-between them both. “Hirra? How long have you been spying on us?”

“Long enough! How dare you? You can't just give out Shadow's secret recipe like that!” Hirra said, tone clearly indicating outrage. 

“Secret recipe? Oh, Hirra…” Kim said, trying to calm their sibling. “Shadows and I found that recipe online! It’s not a secret.”

“It’s secret as far as I'm concerned! ALSO!” Hirra yelled even angrier, before mumbling quietly, “Why did you only invite her…?” She looked over at Mender, who now felt awkward and confused. 

“Because,” Kim said, while planning their words carefully, “sometimes it’s NICE to only have one person visiting at a time. Like, as a completely random example, a movie night with homemade stew and snacks this Friday.” 

There was a silence that fell over the trio before Hirra let out a single “Oh… you only invited me?”

“Yup!” Kim said, slightly sarcastic but still gentle. 

“Right…” Hirra said before turning to Mender. “HA! You only get a dumb tea party with Kim, while I get a full movie night!” But before Mender got to make a comeback, Hirra had already gone for the cinnamon rolls “But I’ll still take those!”

“OI!” Kim yelled as Hirra jumped off the building and ran off,  “HIRRA! Get back here with our cinnamon rolls!” they yelled, but it was too late, as she was already gone.

“Do you want me to go after her?” Mender chuckled, as she looked down to the streets below. 

But Kim only smiled before turning away, “No, you’re still on break! Now, if you'll excuse me for just a moment.”

“Where are you going?” Mender asked as Kim opened the doors to the stairs. 

“Getting more cinnamon rolls! I always make a double batch of them. I’ll be back in just a moment!” they answered as they closed the door behind them.

Mender was just about to sit back down before Kim suddenly got back out again. “Hey!” they said, grabbing Mender’s attention.

“Yes?” Mender asked, slightly disappointed that Kim had come back empty-handed. 

“Do you want to watch a movie? As revenge on Hirra for the stolen cinnamon rolls,'' they asked, grinning. 

Mender grinned back; they would absolutely love to watch a movie, and rub it in Hirra’s face. 

So, a few hours later, as Hirra finished munching the last cinnamon rolls, she got a notification on her phone. It was from… Mender? She rarely sent Hirra texts. What if she and Kim were hurt?! She quickly clicked on the notification to see… A SELFIE OF THEM AND KIM WATCHING A MOVIE WITHOUT HER and… MORE CINNAMON ROLLS??? Those backstabbers… 

Then again, maybe she should have seen it coming that Kim would do something in retaliation for their stolen snacks… 

“Touché.” she mumbled to herself. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[aleksanderscult]

We all know as a fandom Aleksander has trauma, a lot of it too. What are your opinions on him possibly having PTSD, and what would the most likely event(s) be to have caused it given who he is and where he comes from?

⚠️TW: PTSD! Suicide! Depression!⚠️

Unfortunately we know almost nothing of his past to say for certain. We only know about the events of "Demon in the Wood" which showed us how he placed trust on someone and then he got betrayed. We also saw how he couldn't touch somebody but he craved companionship and affection. The fact that he experienced first-hand how others were willing to kill him and others too to claim his bones, shook him.

From that event alone it's almost certain that he decided to alienate himself from the Grisha even more. No more childish games, no more trust, just acquaintances. And, as a result, he became touch-started and suspicious of others.

And let's not forget how he repeatedly lost lovers and friends. Events that could cause him depression and trauma.

As for the PTSD subject, we need to look if he had any of the following symptoms (the symptoms that are colored red are those that I think he did have):

Recurrent, unwanted distressing memories of the traumatic event

Reliving the traumatic event as if it were happening again (flashbacks)

Upsetting dreams or nightmares about the traumatic event

Severe emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds you of the traumatic event

Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event (he probably tried to erase the event)

Avoiding places, activities or people that remind you of the traumatic event

Negative thoughts about yourself, other people or the world (in RoW he seemed to have a total lack of pleasure for returning back to the world. Of course he got resurrected from a person he disliked and then he got tortured as well but his view of the world, and of other people, was utterly pragmatic, sarcastic, bleak and gloomy)

Hopelessness about the future

Memory problems, including not remembering important aspects of the traumatic event

Difficulty maintaining close relationships (now that I believe came after he repeatedly lost his lovers. By R&R I don't think he could be able to be in a healthy relationship even if he tried)

Feeling detached from family and friends

Lack of interest in activities you once enjoyed

Difficulty experiencing positive emotions

Feeling emotionally numb (after his many losses he got willingly detached)

Being easily startled or frightened

Always being on guard for danger

Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much or driving too fast

Trouble sleeping

Trouble concentrating

Irritability, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior

Overwhelming guilt or shame

All in all, I believe that from the very little we have seen of him he suffered mostly from melancholic depression and PTSD but not in a severe form. Because he didn't seem to have trouble in thinking and reacting, having weight problems or feelings of self-hate and hopelessness or suicide thoughts.

[the-lumiose-goodies]

(@ask-sarah-and-co) poseidon @ joëlle

The inteleon smiles, politely greeting the meowstic. “You mentioned you were as tray, I believe? That is quite hard to believe with your current appearance. Might I ask how you became so… glamorous?”

While Joëlle is trying to say the story behind that, she suddenly stops talking. She starts to have tears in her eyes. Her paws and ears start to shake

WARNING: The following contains glitched image and some mentions of abuse.

She hear the woman screaming and angry male voice.

JOËLLEEEEEEEEE!

MAAAAAAAAAAAA!

She's trying to cleaning her head of that thought. However, her tears hasn't wiped out yet.

P-pardon... I-I refuse to talk about this yet...

Joëlle doesn't want to talk about it yet. Ask her about what bothers her first?

[ @ask-sarah-and-co ]

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 7: Alt Prompt 2: Fuzzy Socks

Warning for  Flashback, past traumatic events, hospital mention, past assault, prison mention

[panics-side-blog]

New Cycle - Chapter 5 - 3AMstoryIdeas - Transformers - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

I seem to always forget to upload the link.

Also as a side note this chapter isn't as much of a wall text like the last one. I also edited the last one to be more easy on the eye. Plus first chapter is rewriten, it has now an addition of 1k words in it.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

trudging off to a new psychologist like a little kitty holding a rucksack with tears in his little eyes turning around forlornly to check if he really has to go before dramatically looking forward to continue toward his demise

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

pretty…pretty good

[call-sign-shark]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[ficmenrhot]

Finnick’s trauma and comforting him:( /angst/

TW: mentions of forced prostitution and description of some gore and violence, a little bit of self hatred, talking about traumatic events

A/N: to all those survivors and victims of traumatic events, I’m proud of you…and this is a reminder that your loved ones are always willing to listen. Also, this is quite long so buckle up!

————————————

I think it is pretty much common knowledge that Finnick Odair has some deep trauma from his time in the games and past. Although most victors of the Hunger Games suffered the same fate, Finnick was caught in Snow’s grasp too young..too vulnerable. He was forced to participate in the 65th Hunger Games at only 14-to kill others for survival- and when he won, thinking that all the suffering would be over then, he was threatened to become a prostitute at 16, otherwise his loved ones would be slaughtered- in which they did.

Finnick tries so hard to put on a facade in front of the Capitol- when he attends shows and interviews- and he does an amazing job at that. He tries so, so hard to remain strong for you too…to try and convince you that he really is alright by lying that his past no longer haunts him. He wants to assure you that he is stable because he is afraid of becoming a burden to you, afraid to be pushed away or feared by you because of his ‘problems’. The last thing he needs is to have the last person he loves vanish from his life.

However, at times, the stresses and memories just come flooding back to him and he finds himself breaking down.

Sometimes at night, you’ll be awoken by the soft sobs of Finnick crying, and seeing him in that state just absolutely destroys you…as if a thousand knives to your heart.

His back is facing you to avoid having you see his teary face, quietly sniffing into a pillow in his arm. He looks so vulnerable…almost like he’s fourteen all over again, and your heart throbs at the sight of your love- usually so big and strong- breaking down into pieces.

“…F-Finnick, my love?” You whisper ever so softly, sitting up against the headboard as you place a your much smaller hand on his shoulder.

Finnick turns at you, his eyes red and tears welling up at his waterline, long lashes wet and cheeks a little flushed from crying. He blinks, wiping away his tears, voice raspy as he says apologetically,

“Honey….I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

This man. He’s breaking down and he is so selfless that he apologises to you for experiencing valid emotions?!

“Oh Finnick, why are you apologising? It’s not your fault..you know it never is. Was it the nightmares again?” you ask gently with sympathetic eyes.

You have no idea what Finnick had to go through in the Hunger Games or any idea of what it is like to have your body sold but whatever it feels like, you know it must be terrible…so painful and terrible for somebody as strong as Finnick to be shattered. And you wouldn’t even have to think for a second to do anything at all -to kill or to sacrifice your own safety- just to share half of Finnick’s pain….to lift the weighs off his shoulders.

“My love, would you like me to hold you?” It is the least you can offer.

Finnick sniffs quietly and nod, moving closer to you to lay on your chest. Your fingers delve into his golden curls, playing with his hair as it is one of your favourite ways to calm him down. The two of you find peace in the silence before you ask softly:

“Would you like to share what happened, Finnick? Or we can talk about it when you feel better and just cuddle back to sleep…whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”

Finnick is quiet for a few moments before he blinks and rubs at his wet lashes, “..it was…it was another nightmare. I had to kill the last tribute…a young girl from district 11. She was only a few years older than me…forced into the Games too…and I had to k-kill her to win…” His voice cracks as a tear rolls down his cheeks, and you wipe it away with your thumb, nodding as you listen attentively.

“It was terrible…the look on her face when I stabbed her with my trident…I can still remember her shrill screams, the look of betrayal on her face…the way her body thudded to the ground with blood soaking up her wetsuit.” Finnick begins to sob once more.

“Shhh..shhh” you coo, stroking Finnick’s cheeks as you attempt to comfort him.

Finnick shakes his head, breath hitched and uneven as he sobs in your hands, and the heartache of seeing him like this nearly eats you alive.

“I…I’m disgusting…I feel impure….and with what Snow did to me…”

“…the things he made me do…I feel disgusting....”

Prostitution is something you know of Finnick’s past, but it is a topic he has never really opened up on until this moment. You never forced him or questioned him about it because you know it is an event of great trauma to him.

You can only stroke Finnick’s hair to sooth him and hold him tightly in support as he continues, feeling both sympathy and proudness that he is able to open up about this topic.

“No matter how much I try to wash myself, to scrub my skin and submerge myself in soap, I can still smell the sickening scent of Capitol perfumes. Sometimes…I feel sorry that I can’t be a better partner for you sweetheart……and I’m so afraid that you’ll leave me or regret me or feel shameful of me.”

You cup Finnick’s face for him to look at you and there are a thousand emotions visible in your eyes as you speak.

“Are you kidding, Finnick? Look me in the eye when I tell you that I will never regret loving you or feel ashamed of you. I’m so proud to have you as my partner, as my lover, so proud of how strong you are…how strong you remain after the terrible things you had to go through.”

“In fact, my love, I look up to you. You’re my role model Finnick, and if I were in your shoes, I would not be able to handle things half as well as you do. You are kind, amazing, beautiful and definitely not disgusting. Trust me when I say that that is the last thing you’ll ever be. Besides, it wasn’t your choice to kill that tribute, anyone would’ve done the same.”

And with that, his sea green eyes softens, and that smile you’re familiar with finally appears on his face. Dimples when he smiles. You press a soft kiss on his forehead and stroke his hair as the two of you hold each other sleepily, slowly dozing off to a deep slumber. The last words you mutter being:

“I love you, my love.”

“I love you more, honey. And thank you….really.”

——————————————————————

A/N: AHHHH! tell me why I almost cried writing this?! This is my first angst and I think the lost piece I’ve written by far (on this new account). Please like or reblog if you enjoyed this, and follows are most definitely appreciated ;)

[girlrotterr]

Ultraviolence.

farm!ellie x fem!reader TW!: references to alcohol and substance abuse, along with instances of emotional and verbal abuse. Summary: Years after returning from Seattle, you and Ellie chose to adopt a baby, hoping to rebuild your lives after the traumatic events. However, several months later, Ellie began struggling emotionally, haunted by her past, expressing her pain through cold and distant behavior. a/n: AHHH!! soo excited to finally share this!! lmk if you angels would like a pt 2!

read part 2! read part 3!

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The silence of the house was abruptly broken by a cry that echoed through every corner. It was a sound you recognized instantly, a heart-wrenching feeling that never failed to make your chest tighten. Those cries belonged to your child. 

As you stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing away residues of dinner from the white porcelain plates – the very ones Ellie had lovingly chosen for you – memories flooded your mind. Each sponge stroke brought back moments shared with Ellie, her attention to detail in every aspect of your life together.

The kitchen, once a place of laughter and shared meals, now felt empty. The soft glow of the overhead light cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the solitude that enveloped you. How you longed for Ellie's presence, her warmth filling the space with love and comfort.

Yet, she wasn't physically absent.

She simply wasn't present.

"Go check on him," ellie muttered rudely, not even looking in your direction.

"Already on it," you replied, setting the plate down and drying your hands on a nearby cloth. 

Making your way upstairs, the cries of your child grew louder as you approached his door. Your heart ached as you recognized them all too well. Taking a deep breath, you knocked and opened the door.

Before you could utter a word, he began pouring out his troubles. He knew it was you even before the door opened, aware that you were the only one who came to check on him. His other mom…hadn't done so in a long time.

He was sobbing into his teddy bear, his red and puffy eyes avoiding your gaze.

"Why is my mommy like that?" he asked, tears staining his teddy bear. "Why is she not playing with me? Does she not love me anymore?"

Closing the door gently behind you, you settled on his bed. His voice choked with emotion, he questioned why his mother seemed distant.

"Oh honey, she loves you.” you tried soothing by rubbing his back, “she’s just… been busy, but soon enough, she'll play with you again, okay? I'll talk to her.." you assured, pulling him into your arms.

"Promise?" This time he raised his head to look at you with those wet eyes. You'd been playing the mother role for the past half a year now. How many times had you made that promise to him? 

"Pinky promise," you affirmed, feeling the weight of your words as you made yet another pledge to ease his worries.

"Thank you mama.."  He smiled weakly, clinging to you with a sense of reassurance. 

A voice in the background called your name – Ellie.

Abruptly, the heavy thuds of footsteps echoed up the stairs, her sharp voice vibrating through the silence of the hallway. 

"What are you doing?!" she snapped, her tone laced with irritation as she barged into the room, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" Ellie snarked,  her words cutting through the air. Her cold glare pierced through you. "Kid, go somewhere else."

As Ellie's coldness unfolded, you began to bite the inside of your cheek, a surge of anger towards her lack of empathy. The lack of interest she showed towards everyone's feelings aggravated you, you were growing exhausted. 

"Stop it.” you intervened, hoping to convey to Ellie the need for a gentler approach toward the child. As expected, Ellie brushed off your attempt, a complete disregard for how her words affected the child.

"I said fucking go!" Ellie yelled.

Your child, tears swelling, quickly left the room, the echoes of his sniffles fading behind him. Dammit, Ellie...

You shoot her a glare filled with frustration, immediately getting up to exit the room. However, Ellie quickly grabbed your arm, her grip tight and nails digging into your flesh, causing you to wince and forcefully move toward her.

"Where the fuck are you going?" she snarled.

"Argh- Ellie, I'm not.. dealing with you right now-" you remarked..

Ellie tugged your arm harshly, her stare growing more aggravated. The scent of cigarettes lingering, the scent so familiar that you had become numb to it. This was the only time Ellie would even attempt to touch you, always using it to assert her control. In all other instances, you existed as nothing, always unnoticed.

“You don’t get to decide that.” She released your arm, shutting the door firmly and positioning herself in front of it to ensure you couldn't leave. Taking another drag from her cigarette, she exhaled the smoke.

Maintaining your glare, you scoffed and went to open the window, refusing to let the smell of cigarettes fill your child's room. 

"What the fuckk are you doing?" Ellie asked, displaying no intention of stopping you, her annoyance being clear. She didn't bother pretending. 

“What does it fucking look like?” you snapped, not bothering to turn and face her. You hated it when she tried irritating you. 

Instead, your focus drifted toward the view outside the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of warm gold and soft pink, casting a gentle glow. The fields surrounding the farmhouse with lively flowers, their petals swaying in the evening breeze.

The farmhouse itself stood as a sturdy, its walls covered with trailing vines of ivy. In the distance, you could hear the faint sound of cows softly in the fields. 

Ellie remained silent, simply taking another prolonged drag of her cigarette. She didn't spare the time to respond to your snarky remarks.

“..he wanted to play with you today,” you mentioned, leaning your head against the window, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt. “He thinks you don’t love him.”

It had become routine for Ellie to try and get any information about what your kid shared. His troubles and worries seemed to be a curiosity for her. You never questioned it, always holding onto the hope that, in some part of her, she still truly cared.

"So?" she replied nonchalantly, walking over to you and flicking her cigarette out the window. "What's one of his little feelings to me? He's too attached anyway. It'd be good for him if I ignored him for a while." 

Ellie's gaze drifted toward the window, her eyes captivated by the familiar view. The  golden glow over the farmstead, a sight she had always cherished. It was one of the main reasons she had chosen this farmhouse for her family to live in. 

You gazed at Ellie, taking in her features. Her heavy bags from the countless sleepless nights on the couch, her once-soft pink lips now only meeting the cold bottles of alcohol she consumed in the dead of night.

“He’s not the only one who feels that way..” You remarked, still staring at her, hoping that her emerald eyes would meet yours.

Ellie's heart sank, a flicker of emotion appearing on her face.

"Shut up," she muttered coldly. She didn't bother turning to look at you; your words had clearly affected her. 

"I don't want to hear you talk. I'll do whatever I want. If I don't feel like playing with him, then I fucking won't."

She stormed off, and the moment of silence shattered. Her heavy footsteps descended the stairs. 

Without a moment's hesitation, you rushed out of your son's room, your only focus being to find him. You swiftly walked down the hallway, your pace quickening. Leaving him alone, particularly when upset, was something you hated. As you walked down the hallway…

There he was. 

In the bathroom, seated on the black and white tiled floor, clutching his teddy bear, with his face buried into his knees and headphones covering his ears.

He didn't want to witness his mothers arguing. He understood that whenever Ellie interrupted your time together, it signaled something bad. 

You observed him from the doorway painfully knowing that he didn't deserve this, enduring the harsh environment that the house had become. It pained your heart to see that he had developed coping mechanisms for these moments.

He glanced up at you, his eyes red from crying.

You gave him a soft smile, walking over and lifting him into your arms, gently wiping away the tears from his face. “I’m sorry honey, mommy needed to tell me something-”

“I know,” he said softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. He already knew all your apologies.

You kissed the top of his head, tenderly stroking his hair and swaying side to side. Your mind raced, searching for ways to lift his spirits and make up for Ellie's behavior.

“Hey, why don’t we-”

"Mama... I’m tired," he interrupted, his gaze staring off as if he was drifting from this moment. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; he was tired of it all, exhausted from feeling this way.

You nodded gently. “Okay, let’s head to bed then…”

You walked over to the sink, sitting him on the nearby stool where you usually did to brush his little teeth. The tap gushed water as you applied toothpaste to his green toothbrush covered in tiny dinosaurs, a choice Ellie had insisted upon a while back. You remember her begs of "pleaseee!!" throughout the shopping trip.

With the toothbrush in hand, you gently brushed his teeth, being careful not to hurt his sensitive gums.

“Okay, now you can spit.”

Ptui!

“All clean, mama!” he exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together and flashing you his newly cleaned smile.

You leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Good job, honey!”

He carefully climbed down from the stool, making his way towards your bedroom. Sleeping with you always made him feel safe, and he eagerly headed for the bed, emitting little grunts of tiredness along the way.

Finally settling onto the bed, he lay down next to his teddy bear, giving it a small pat.

“Mama will join you after she’s done cleaning, okay?” you assured him, tucking him into his space-themed blanket. The blanket, a dark blue adorned with various planets and stars, was one of his favorites.

It was a gift from from grandpa Joel, who had been thrilled to learn about your and Ellie's news of starting a family. He couldn't contain his excitement, bombarding Ellie with endless parenting tips and even purchasing books on child development in preparation.

Joel never got to meet him. 

“Okay...” he said softly, turning away as you walked towards the door. You stared at his back, an ache overwhelming your thoughts, and all you could think about was saying, "I’m sorry." Though you knew you weren’t responsible for Ellie's behavior, you felt like you owed it to him.

You and Ellie were eagerly excited on the journey to adopt a child together, ready to try again. Jackson had many kids in need of a loving home. When you adopted your kid, you promised him a life filled with love and joy, but that promise crumbled far too quickly. 

You stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you.

Heading downstairs, you found Ellie sitting on the couch, smoking a joint and watching Breaking Bad, an episode she had already seen twice.

Resuming your routine, you began cleaning up the kitchen. Drying dishes, sweeping the floor, and wiping the countertops. All tasks you were now accustomed to doing alone.

 Ellie gradually stopped helping, a gradual drift. The same snarky excuses: “I’m too fucking tired” or “I have some work to finish up.” Eventually, she left you alone in the silent kitchen, where everything felt still.

“Goodnight,” you said, looking towards Ellie as you headed towards the stairs.

Silence.

Ellie remained motionless on the couch, smoking her joint and staring blankly at the TV. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, trying to detach herself from the world.

You took a deep breath, attempting to control your emotions and suppress the ache that surfaced every time she responded with silence. Placing your foot on the first step, you began to ascend the stairs.

"C'mere,” Ellie said, actually looking at you for once.

Your heart raced at her sudden attention, her piercing gaze catching you off guard. You walked over to her, standing in front of her. Up close, you couldn't ignore the mess she appeared to be. Her eyes were puffy and red, a foolish smirk plastered across her face.

“c’meree..” she said, motioning you to come closer. 

Ellie brought the joint to her lips, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke right into your face, giggling at how it was causing you to cough. 

She started laughing, “you look stupid.”

Irritated, you smacked the joint out of her hand. Causing ellie to jolt at the sudden movement. 

“Be fucking stupid and pick it up,” you snarled, glaring at her, your eyes piercing through her.

Ellie simply looked at you, no words, no movement, her gaze fixated on you. You couldn’t decipher the emotion behind her gaze there were thoughts behind those eyes, but you couldn’t recognize them.

Scoffing, you turned away, no longer wanting to be near her. Heading upstairs, you headed straight for the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears welled up, but you refused to let them fall. I need to be strong..she can’t..can’t win…

You couldn't help but feel stupid. Stupid for thinking she would offer you even a shred of affection. Her undivided attention, a drop of care.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed water on your face, feeling its cool touch soothe your heated skin. It was as if the water washed away the tension, calming your mind. Each droplet felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, easing the ache you carried.

Taking a deep sigh, you began your nightly routine, another task you were accustomed to doing alone.

Slowly opening the door to your bedroom, you found your child fast asleep, clutching his teddy bear tightly in his arms and cocooned in his blanket. His gentle breaths filled the room with a sense of tranquility, a small smile gracing his lips as he slept peacefully.

In that moment, he appeared like a peaceful, angelic child, as if he were innocent and free from life's worries.

Closing the door behind you, you approached the bed, gently laying beside him, fingers caressing his soft hair, humming a melody –a melody Ellie used to sing to you back then. Never missing a chance to soothe you with her singing whenever you couldn’t sleep. 

He appeared so innocent, carrying that light within him. The idea of him being exposed to Ellie's behavior filled you with guilt. He was the reason you tolerated Ellie, not demanding for more.

You had an urge to fight for his safety and his right to happiness. All he deserved was love and affection, and ellie failed to provide it.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you closed your eyes, letting sleep envelop you as you tried to quiet the endless thoughts swirling in your mind.

Thud.

Sometime later in the night, you heard Ellie stumbling her way up the stairs. Her movements were unsteady, the effects of alcohol. It seemed like she hadn't slept at all. The only evidence of her rest was the blanket and pillow on the couch.

You heard the sound of ellie turning the doorknob and entering the room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The room filled with the sound of Ellie rummaging through drawers and opening closets. You had no idea what she was looking for, but she appeared determined to find it.

You tried to catch a glimpse of Ellie in the darkened room. Your eyes adjusted, and you could make out the outline of her figure as she searched. She stood there in a tank top and boxers, her arms revealing prominent veins, and her hair ruffled messily around her face.

“El’s?..” 

Startled, she jumped and stopped her search, clearly taken aback by the sudden sound of your voice. She turned around with a scowl, not bothering to whisper back.

“What?” she snapped, clearly annoyed.

"What're you… doing?" you asked sleepily, being awoken by her rummaging. 

"Nothing," Ellie replied with a heavy sigh "Go back to sleep."

You looked into her eyes, your eyes glistening in the gentle moonlight. 

Ellie was startled for a moment at the sight of the eyes that met her. But snapped herself back into reality.

"Don't… give me that look," she muttered before turning around and going back to rummaging through the drawers.

You gently extended your hand towards Ellie, wanting her to sleep with you. Your fingers moved slowly, reaching out for hers. 

She paused, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a sharp inhale of air. She sighed and then looked at you. She didn't pull away from your touch, her demeanor appearing softer as if she was trying to resist you.

"No," 

You stayed silent at her response, silently hoping for her to change her answer.

"I said No. Go… back to sleep." She tried to say firmly but her tone was softer now.

You turned away from Ellie, silently acknowledging her rejection. Each time your attempts were turned down, the familiar ache grew duller, as if numbed. You wrapped your arm around your child, closing your eyes in an attempt to drift back into sleep.

Your child's peaceful breathing filled the room, a comforting reminder of his presence. Though still awake, you could hear Ellie's silent breaths nearby. She lingered by the bed, her presence still even in the darkness. It felt as if she was trying to find a way to be near you without you knowing. 

You resembled an angel in the soft moonlight, your skin radiant. Ellie couldn't help but admire you, considering you the most beautiful sight she had ever seen—as if you were kissed by the moon. 

The night was warm, the gentle wind gentle and comforting. In this moment, you hoped to never wake up. 

Your soft hair laid on the pillow like soft and silky thread. Your gentle breathing was soothing. Your body looked like a painting created by heaven itself. You were its beautiful muse and the moon was the painter showing its admiration.

Ellie couldn't help but gaze at you, her eyes lingering on your lips for a moment longer than usual. She then looked down at your child, peacefully nestled with you For an instant, a longing for love stirred within her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time. It reminded her of the days when you both were deeply in love.

Your body was so peaceful, ellie found herself entranced, her eyes tracing every curve and line. Ellie felt an overwhelming desire to simply…admire you, to preserve your presence. 

Without a second thought, Ellie found herself slowly lying down beside you, her body acting with impulse. The comfort of the bed and the softness of the cotton sheets gave her a warmth that she had long forgotten.

She pressed her body as close as she could get it against yours. Her hands folded under her chin, as if she was too afraid to touch you. 

She found herself lost, aching for a connection she feared to ignite. 

[luveline]

hello!! your writing is so lovey !! i’d love to read about some hurt/comfort with Joel if you’re up for it!!

thank you for your request, hope this is ok! tw for attempted sexual assault and implied physical assault/ bruises/ traumatic event | fem!reader 1.1k

Joel's probably worried, you think. 

The skin of your arms and torso is rippled with goosebumps as another cold breeze whips past. Your fingertips are numb. Every new gale stings the welts across your stomach, shallow cuts from untrimmed fingernails. You'll need to wash them out when you get home, only home is a long ways away, and you're still shirtless. 

Joel's apartment is much closer. You know where you'll end up, even as you beg yourself to stick out the cold and the vulnerability. You don't want to burden him with this, but you don't want to carry it by yourself, either. 

The steps up to his apartment are cracked and filthy. Glass crushes under your ratty converse as you bump up each step, uncrossing your arms to hold on to the bannister inside. You pretty much sprint to his floor. You're not stupid, you know walking around half naked makes you a target for creeps. 

You stand in front of his door, shaking from the cold. You bruised knuckles ache as you knock. 

"Joel?" you say, crossing your arms over your bare chest again. "It's me." 

Please be home. 

"Joel? Are you–" 

The door opens suddenly, wisps of your hair dancing forward. You tighten your arms across your chest and can't make yourself smile at the man in front of you. Joel is rumpled, his clothes marred with dark mud, and he looks pissed. He must've just gotten in. 

He steps toward you and you step back. You're still in flight mode, but Joel's not gonna hurt you. He grabs your shoulder and shepherd's you behind him, looking down the hallway. 

"They didn't follow me." 

"They?" he asks stonily. His rage is quick to boil. 

You don't have any answers for him. You don't know who it was. 

Joel walks you inside of the apartment. His hand burns your chilled skin. Any heat feels like a relief to you, your body thrumming with an emotion you can't place as you press your back to his arm. 

He gets you on the couch, drapes a blanket over your shoulders. You're freezing up and not sure why, your grip on the present loosening as he crouches in front of you. The tip of his ring finger brushes against the gouges in your arm. 

"Is this it?" he asks. 

You press your lips together tightly and lift your arm so he can see the long welts over your stomach, beginning just under your chest and stopping before your navel. 

"Nothing else?" 

You look over his shoulder. "No," you say softly. "Nothing else." 

"Look at me." 

You look at him. You've known Joel for long enough to understand his expressions, but when you'd first met they felt like a puzzle. You'd thought him disdainfully detached, especially when his impassive lowbrow was accompanied by his silences. His glaring isn't at you, it's for you. 

A single tear races down your cheek. You try very hard to mirror his steadiness. 

"They pushed me up against a wall," you whisper, afraid that any sudden movements will spill another welled tear, "and they took off my shirt, and I– I think I hit him in the throat, and I pulled away even though he," —you gesture to your stomach— "tried to pull me back in. I tripped the other one." 

"You're sure they didn't do anything else?" he asks. 

"It's all surface wounds, Joel. My arm hurts, and I'm cold, but it's not as bad as it looks." 

He takes your cold hand like he doesn't mean to. He squeezes your fingers together, the bones aching for a millisecond, and lets you go. You curl in on yourself as he stands and leaves the room, his footsteps moving through the bedroom and the bathroom, where the tap runs. 

He returns with a shirt that won't fit you right and a first aid kit. He turns though he's seen it all now, letting you slip the shirt over your head and tug it over your stomach with a semblance of privacy. 

"I'm sorry for coming here," you say. 

He turns and shakes his head. "Don't say that shit. This is exactly where you're supposed to come. Do you want to stand up, let me disinfect scrapes?" 

You stand and reluctantly leave the blanket on the couch. He takes your arm into a much gentler hand than the one that left your scratches, disinfecting your cuts with a small piece of gauze and a splash of alcohol. You wonder if he thinks about the loss. Any sip is precious. 

He starts to pull up your shirt. You hold very still, let him pin it just under your breasts without so much as a wrong breath, and still he checks your face. 

"Alright?" 

You nod emphatically. Joel takes care to be gentle but he's still thorough — you wince at the feeling of wet cotton dragging down your broken skin. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

Joel doesn't say sorry often. You know he wouldn't apologise for something so small as the biting ache of disinfectant.  

"It's not your fault. It's mine, I didn't have my jacket, I was only–" putting out the trash. Trying to do something normal, but nothing's normal anymore. "I'm fucking stupid. I've seen one of them with Ronnie before, I should've known they were bad news." 

You really aren't expecting his hug. Any affection beyond a quick hand hold or pat on the shoulder is scarce.

"You're not stupid." Joel's hand moves up to your hair, cupping the back of your head. "You're not."

His touch brings an instant wave of heat behind your eyes. You screw them closed tight to stop from sobbing into his shoulder, your hands vying desperately for his waist, his back, pulling him as close as he'll let you be. He doesn't push you away, not for a second. 

"You're okay," he says firmly.

Joel is all encompassing. His presence numbs the last remains of your panic. His arms are tight behind you, his chest solid under your own. 

"My hands are so cold, they're hurting," you mumble. 

If he feels the tears seeping into his t-shirt, he doesn't mention it. "Yeah?" he asks, reaching back to pull one from his back. He wedges it between you, your fingertips aligned over his heart. 

You'd never know how angry he was at that moment. You won't realise how deeply it runs until night's fallen, and you wake alone in his bed to the sound of the door closing. When he climbs in beside you, his knuckles are an angry red.

[mamsieur]

Evil Twin | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Floyd!Reader

Summary : Who would have guessed that sweet and discreet Bob had a twin sister who was his opposite ? Not the Dagger Squad, that's for sure.

TW : mention of past abuse, mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, angst and fluff, angst with happy ending

Length : 6980 words

AN : Bob is the sweetest and I'm sure he's an overprotective brother.

posted on AO3 July 22, 2023

You were the quintessential of the pop-rock star.  You had a lot of problems with the press, both concerning your love life and the setbacks of your ex-band.

The first problem was that you were often seen leaving hotels with different partners : the press loved that you didn't settle down and always made a big deal out of it. You didn't really care, you knew the tabloids always twisted the truth just to sell more garbage. What bothered you was that your mom kept calling you about it, wondering why you couldn't be discreet and serious, have a normal job like your twin; the perfect little Robby, pride and joy of the family. He was in the navy, serving the country, and your father liked to remind you that Robert was doing something useful, something great. Yet, you didn't care what the public and your family thought of you. You just wanted to play your songs, have fun on stage and in the studio. It was your cop-out after some traumatic experiences you went through in high school.

As for your problems with the band, it was a different kettle of fish. 

You were the lead vocalist and guitarist. You loved being on stage, it made you feel powerful, in control. You were backed by three talented but lazy guys about your age. It was your agent's idea to put you in charge of them. And what a great idea. At first it was fun, you had a good time. But as time went by, their excesses slowed down your rise in the charts. And they wasted all their time, energy and money on the wrong things. Every day, the press had a scoop about them doing something illegal or immoral. The last one on their list was being seen exiting a bar with underage fans.

Those recent events forced your label to give you a choice; either the whole group was fired or you could continue as a solo artist; your producer and staff knew that you weren't really a troublemaker, so it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.  You didn't even hesitate to sign your new contract ; and that led to a new scandal in the press, creating false drama between you and your ex mates. But as much as you were determined to make a name for yourself, you also needed a break from all the “scandal” that was going on. You made a deal with your producer and new agent: you had one month to come up with at least two singles, while you could go anywhere you wanted to find inspiration and relax.

And what could be more relaxing than the seaside ? The beach, the sun, the salty air, the feeling of being in an eternal summer ? It was perfect. You booked your flight to San Diego and rented a small beach house on Airbnb.  What could possibly go wrong? 

Well, maybe running into your twin brother at the local bar.

The Hard Deck seemed like a pretty chill place and the owner, Penny, was really nice. You spent some evenings there, trying to come up with some lyrics over a Coke.  She was curious and you were happy to share what you were working on, even though you hadn't made any progress. She had that reassuring aura, and talking with her was like talking to an old friend that you knew all your life. She was genuinely interested in what you had to share, and gave you some advice when she could. She also was curious to hear your voice and tried a few times to get you at the piano. You refused politely each time, feeling strangely shy.

It took you a week and a half to work up the courage to go to that piano.

The bar was rather empty, which was unusual for a Saturday night but made it easier for you to convince yourself that it was okay. You discreetly started to warm up your voice and started a version of Your Song - Penny confessed to you it was one of her favorite songs.

In a corner of the bar, by the pool table, a group of pilots were surprised to hear the piano playing at this hour. "Looks like someone stole your seat, Bradshaw," a tall blond man sneered.  "Looks like it, Seresin." Bradley raised an eyebrow and leaned over to see who had taken his place at the piano. The others gently urged him to join them; after all, he was the musician among the squad. He pretended to be annoyed by their request and joined you for the last chorus.  You were surprised, but smiled quietly and finished your "performance" with him. You made room for him on the little bench, and with a look of approval, you moved on to another song of his choice: Ain't no mountain higher .  The patrons of the bar, who had become more numerous, were delighted to have a private mini-concert. Some of them started to dance, others joined in singing. It was a fun experience.

After the end of the song, you smiled and shook the hand of your partner of a moment and let him enjoy the piano by himself. You made your way back to your stool and asked Penny for a glass of water. You felt a presence next to you and turned a little to see who was there. You easily guessed it was a navy man ; the uniform - talk about obvious -, the perfectly styled hair. You grinned at the tall blond man in front of you.

“So, does that pretty voice have a name ?” asked Jake with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirtatious tone and his pushed Texan accent.  “Well yes actually, I’m-” “Y/N ?” You frowned, immediately recognizing the voice that had spoken your name. You easily spotted his surprised face among the other navy people that were close to you and Jake. "Robert?" "Don't tell me you're his girlfriend..." "What? No!" you shouted at the same time, making a few of the others giggle. "Gross!" you pretended to vomit. "She's my sister, Hangman," Bob sighed. "Twin sister, to be exact," you precised.

You couldn't help but giggle at the shocked looks on the faces of who you assumed were his colleagues. He was suddenly flooded with questions, and you enjoyed watching him turn redder and redder. Then they focused on you. "You two don't look alike at all," Reuben said, scanning you in detail. You rolled your eyes and smiled, leaning against your brother as you poked his side. "Robert took the height and brains, I took the charm and talent." 

Your brother sighed and ran his hand over his neck, slightly embarrassed. His teammates were happy to meet you, especially happy to annoy Bob, and Natasha seemed to realize something. "Your voice sounds familiar... I've heard it somewhere before... in a band, right?" " Nemesis ," you smiled and nodded, mentioning your old band, "but I'm solo now. Kept the stage name though." "Quite a few scandals with that band..." your twin mumbled.  You decided not to pay attention to him. Like your parents, Robert had never understood your career choice, arguing that you were brilliant at school and could have done anything else. Of course you were pretty intelligent but you had fallen in love with music as an outlet for your pain. But your family didn’t seem to accept your way of coping with your traumas.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You got to know your brother's second family. They all had their own personalities, but that's what made them so endearing. Jake invited you to join them the next day, since it was their day off and they wanted to relax at the beach. You gladly accepted.

Robert didn't say much to you, the atmosphere between you was cold and tense. Natasha noticed it, so she joined her WSO to chat. "What's wrong, Bob? Your sister seems nice and yet you're here, not saying anything to her." He sighed a little as he watched you chatting and having fun with the others. "I'm worried about her," he confessed, "she… she hides herself in that personna… that Nemesis …” “Aren't all artists ? I mean, they wouldn't take a stage name otherwise.” “I guess… but I’m scared she’s losing herself…” he said softly, glancing at you. He grumbled when he noticed that Jake was flirting with you; and you didn't seem to refuse his advances either. Natasha let out a soft “damn” when Jake slid his arm around you and Bob almost jumped off his seat, mumbling an irritated “that’s it”. 

You felt a strong hand gripping your wrist and you were drawn out of Jake’s embrace and out the bar. “The hell Robby ?” you scoffed once outside, “I was in the middle of a conversation !” “No you weren’t, you were flirting ! With one of my teammates !” “First off, he initiated it ! And second, in what world is that your business ? We’re grown ups, I can handle some flirting !” “Well, first off , you’re my sister and second , Hangman is… he’s not the type to settle down !” he tried to explain himself but you just rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, you sound just like dad ! Why should I settle down ? I’m having fun, I’m happy that way !” You pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “Stop trying to father me, I’m doing fine since I left !” “Yeah, you seem real good in the local news,” he mumbles, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't even look at you as he said those words. You hated it when he did that, always half-assing his thoughts. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, tilting your head back.  “And now you sound like mom. I can handle my life just fine Robert. I don’t need your concern, let alone your judgment ! I’ve never been better, ok ? Leave me the fuck alone !”

You were lying. You both knew that. He could read into you so easily, it made you sick. Call it ‘twin magic’ or ‘sibling intuition’, you still hated the way his blue eyes looked at you with worry and questions in them, knowing all too well that you were not fine. 

You passed him, going back to the bar to get your stuff and pay Penny. Out of spit - and mostly because you wanted to - you handed your number to Jake and left with a smirk. You could hear the squad gently hassle Hangman who proudly showed off the piece of paper you gave him. 

A little fun won’t kill you, would it ?

The next day, you joined the Dagger squad on the beach, near the Hard Deck. 

They were playing a strange football game ; dogfight football , attack and defense at the same time, Natasha explained to you.  You watched their first round and second, it seemed fun. At least, Bob seemed to have fun. You remembered he was not a teamsport guy younger. He actually hated the fact that your dad made him go to the tryouts for the football team in high school. To his misfortune, he got in. You smiled and sighed remembering those days.  Sometimes, you missed the time you were close to your twin, when you could tell him everything, before it all fell apart in junior year. A cold shiver ran down your spine while you thought back about it. Your life changed so much at that time, you didn’t like to remember it.

Crouching in front of you, Jake snapped you out of your reverie. “Hey there darlin, care to join us ? We’ll be gentle, promise.” he said with a playful grin. You arched an eyebrow and sneered. “Oh please, don’t be, I can handle it.” He laughed and helped you up. You were put in his team against Natasha, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. You were - to your own surprise - pretty fast and efficient. Javy and Jake joked around saying that being stealth had to be running in the family. 

You really had fun, even laughing with your brother. You didn’t know who won but you scored the last point of the game, and Jake put you on his shoulders to celebrate before tossing you in the water. “You’re a dead man, Seresin !” you shouted, before laughing. Robert helped you out the water and gave you a towel without a word. You silently thanked him and you all took a water break while deciding what to eat.

Reuben and Mickey volunteered to go get the pizzas and while they did, Natasha proposed a volleyball match. She decided that Bob and you would be in her team and you smiled. Bob couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle ; the two of you loved that sport when you were kids. When you went to your grandma's house for the holidays, you used to play against your cousins. Of course, you kicked their ass. They called you the Evil Twins. Once your heads were in the game, you were unstoppable. And Bradley, Jake and Javy would soon understand why you and Bob were so happy to be on the same team. 

The two of you didn’t even need to talk to understand the next move of the other. Even Natasha didn’t really understand what was happening. You won the first, then second, then third match. You laughed at the exasperation of Jake and Javy, Bradley on the other hand was just tired of running around. He quit with Natasha, leaving Jake and Javy to find a strategy to strike Bob and you down. “Like the old times huh ?” your twin smiled, giving you a bottle of water. You returned the smile and nodded. “Let’s show them. Evil Twins ?” “Evil Twins.” He clapped his hands with yours with a grin. Oh, the other two weren't ready for the beating they were about to get.

Javy called it quits after the third set. They lost them all and he was getting tired. Jake was pouting while you jumped on your brother’s back. “Evil Twins for the win !” Natasha laughed. You giggled, while Robert ran around like a doofus, you on his back, taunting Jake.  "Don't tease him too much, you know he's a sore loser!" sneered Bradley. "Nonsense!" sulked Jake, "I always accept my defeats, except they never happen.” The rest of the team rolled their eyes, both annoyed and amused.

Reuben and Mickey returned with the pizzas, and the rest of the afternoon was less athletic. Some went for a swim, others played cards in the shade of an umbrella. You chatted peacefully with Natasha and Jake, Robert never too far away. Strangely enough, you were glad he stayed close. Sometimes he would join in the conversation, but he remained Bob, preferring to watch and listen rather than talk.  It was a nice afternoon, you felt like a teenager on holiday with a bunch of friends. Bradley and Javy started a water fight by grabbing Bob and throwing him in the water. You and Natasha ran at the boys to avenge him and one thing led to another and you all ended up in the water, friendly fighting each other.

The sun slowly got low, the afternoon ending peacefully. You stayed at the bar with the squad, learning more about each one, more about your brother’s ‘new’ life. They told you about their life on base and about the bird strike that Natasha and Bob had suffered from. You scolded your twin because he never told you about it. He defended himself by saying that it was not that big of a deal, but by the looks on the others' faces, you knew he lied.

Part of you was jealous of him. You both left home around the same time, and he seemed so happy now, away from your parents and their intrusive presence, away from your father's demoralizing, degrading and demotivating comments. You couldn't understand how he could be doing so well when you were struggling to find yourself, to be happy. This question echoed in your head and made you feel too much in the room. You excused yourself and went outside for some fresh air. You were pale and shaking, and anxiety was getting the better of you. You tried to ease your breathing and closed your eyes to focus on the sound of the waves in front of you. You could hear the laughter and indescribable conversations in the distance, mingled with the music and singing. It was somewhat peaceful and yet you couldn't calm the flood of painful memories that invaded your mind. Every laugh reminded you of your ex's, every burst of voice a little too loud made you cower. You didn't want to think about it anymore. You wanted to forget everything. You just wanted it to stop. It had to stop. You had to get away from it all. You had to-

“Y/N ? Are you ok ?”

Your brother's gentle voice made everything disappear. You felt yourself breathe again. But you knew it would only be temporary ; because seeing him worried would make you weak and anxious again.  You took a deep, shaky breath before turning to him. You tried to hide the tremble of your voice, and put on a fake smile. "It's okay... I... I have to go home. Thanks for today, it was fun!" You passed him in a hurry, still pale and scrapie.  

He sighed and bit his lip before summoning his courage. "What are you running from? You... you looked like you were fine, and then all of a sudden you're running away. " "Robby, please-" "What happened?" "Nothing, I-" "Did someone say something?" "No! I just-" "Did I say or do something wrong? Tell me!" "Then let me talk for god’s sake !" you clenched your fists then sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Robby. It's just that... I can't..." your voice cracked a little and you leaned your head back to hold back your tears. Bob's head tilted in concern and he stepped towards you. "Can't what? You can't do what?"

You didn't answer, shaking your head. You couldn't put into words the confusion you felt. You searched for words and began to pace back and forth. "Can't do what Y/N?" Robert insisted gently. "I... fuck... fuck." 

Your voice and your whole body were shaking. It was getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. How could you tell your brother that you envied him and hated that feeling ? How could you envy him for building his life, a life filled with healthy loved ones that were there for him? How could you hold a grudge when he was the one who got you out of your abusive relationship at the risk of his acceptance into the naval academy ?

He took another step towards you, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back. "Hey, come on, tell me-" "I can't get over it, okay?! I-I can't figure out how and why you managed to grow up and I'm stuck at 17! Why do I always feel like I'm in pieces, alone, like he 's still running my life, like he 's always there, over my shoulder, no matter what I do?" "Y/N... it wasn't your fault-"  "I know!!! I fucking know it wasn't my fault!!” you cut him, almost screaming, “I know he 's the one who did this to me, who pretended to love me, who beat the shit out of me and abused me every single day for months! I know all of that ! Then why am I still stuck there ? Why am I the one still struggling?! Why am I the one who feels like a complete failure ? Why can't I let it go?!" your bottom lip was trembling as tears rolled down your face. “Why can’t I just move on ? Why do I always hear dad saying ‘told you so’ or mom sighing every time I mess up ? Why don’t they ever want to talk about what happened but they urge me to just forget about it ?! Why don't they support me ? Why don’t you ?!” 

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, before you whimpered and cried like a baby. Bob stood still for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. He suspected that the events of your past were still haunting you, but not to this extent. And you felt that he didn't support you... he felt like shit. How could he neglect your feelings so much, how could he act the way he blamed your parents? He let you cry against him for a long moment, swallowing his discomfort. He was the one to blame, and he had to focus on you. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N. I... I didn't realize that my behavior was hurting you… I'm just worried, and I didn't show it the right way. I'm an idiot." "A big idiot," you mumbled, sniffling. "Yes, a big idiot. And I'd really like you to let me help you. We... We have contacts with some really good therapists for post-traumatic stress and stuff... I could give you their numbers?" You just nodded, your tears finally stopping.  "I'm sorry I yelled at you..." you mumbled. Bob smiled and pinched your side.  "Don't be, I deserved it. I’m sorry I tried to interfere between you and Hangman…" “He’s actually a sweet guy behind his smug facade, y'know ?” you smiled and chuckled to his falsely doubtful face and the little 'meh' he let out.

As promised, Bob put you in touch with the therapists he'd told you about, and negotiated a longer return period with your agency. You had a full month and a half more. You started to really work on the singles, and your sessions with the therapist were helping. You knew you'd have to keep seeing one when you got home.  But going wasn’t something you wanted to think about. As the days went by, you didn't want to leave San Diego. Your brother and the Dagger Squad were stationed here permanently, and you needed him in your life.

Him and Jake.

You always thought that the two of you were just a fling, that you or he would get tired of it and move on. But neither of you did. You spent more and more time with him, he'd crash at your Airbnb - uninvited - every now and then with a movie or dinner.  The more time you spent with him, the more you fell for him and you didn't want it to end as a one-night stand, you knew that much. 

As you got to dig beneath his proud, cocky, arrogant facade, you discovered a gentle man full of insecurities. He talked about his father, who was not exactly the ideal role model and the fact that he didn’t have the best of relations with him. He talked about his mama, and with the look he had in his eyes, you knew he worshiped the woman ; based on what he shared, you figured Mrs Seresin was more than strong and dedicated to her children. He told you about his sisters, both of them a couple of years older than him, and his nieces and nephews. He loved the munchkins - his terms, not yours - and you saw in his eyes how much he meant it. They were his whole world, but he’d never admit it.

You tried to take your time with him but he had a strange effect on you ; you found yourself opening up to him, faster than you thought.  You'd never told anyone about your abusive relationship - except Robert. And Jake had listened to you without judgment or interruption. He sat there, ready to absorb any information you wanted and were able to share.

So you were torn between your desire to get back to the recording studio in New York, to get back to work, and your desire to stay in the peaceful everyday life you'd created in just a few weeks. You had to go back. You had obligations to keep. Maybe after you fulfilled your part of the contract, you could negotiate and come back to San Diego? This thought was the only thing that kept you working hard. You succeeded in writing three more singles than the agreed two. You were quite pleased with yourself.

And sooner than you realized, you had to go back to New York.

Natasha, with the help of the rest of the team, had organized a little surprise going-away party at the Hard Deck. Penny was in on the secret and had given them the bar to themselves. You loved the surprise and the evening was unforgettable. Bradley had insisted on karaoke, and you dragged your twin along. Robert rolled his eyes, but played along. You had the time of your life and enjoyed every second of this last night with your new friends. They made you promise to call them whenever you could, to think of them and to come back as soon as possible. They took you home and spent a few more hours with you before letting you rest. But just when you thought everyone was gone, you found Jake on the couch, waiting for you. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you saw him there, his eyes anchored in yours. You detailed his face, as if to remember it after you'd left; his slightly wavy blond hair, those beautiful green eyes, his perfect jawline, his cocky smile. That damn smile that made you weak in the knees like a teenager. God, you hated that smile as much as you loved it.

"Enjoying the view?"

You didn't realize that he had stood up and was now so close to you. A deep blush spread across your cheeks and yet you couldn't take your eyes off him, your gaze locked with his. You bit your lip and grinned. "So what if I am, big boy?" you teased. He huffed, amused, and his hand slowly reached for yours, your knuckles brushing. His other hand reached for your cheek, his thumb stroking it tenderly. You leaned into his touch, feeling yourself melt under his gaze. He said nothing, his eyes never leaving you. "What?" you whispered, your heart beating a little faster. "That's how I want to remember you." "Like what? Tipsy and tired?" you laughed a little. "Na. Happy... relaxed... you look beautiful." Jake whispered back, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. Your stomach fluttered and you found the courage to interlock his fingers with yours. "Sounds like I have you under my siren's spell, Lieutenant..." you teased, biting your lip. "You certainly do, ma'am," he whispered again, the gap between the two of you only a few inches. You felt your confidence slip from your fingers, your eyes on his lips.

"Kiss me..."

It's an almost inaudible beg that escaped you, and you didn't even have time to be embarrassed that you felt him on your lips. The kiss was sweet, tender. You squeezed his hand into yours, and his free one slid around your waist, holding you close. You wanted the kiss to last forever. With amazing ease, Jake lifted you against him, his hands going under your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He carried you into the bedroom, his lips exploring yours, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Your fingers brushed through his soft hair and soon you felt your back against the mattress.  Your clothes ended up chaotically thrown around the room as you undressed and kissed each other. The moon gave you just enough light to never lose sight of him. His eyes devoured you before his hands discovered your body. He asked you if you were okay every step of the way, and you never thought being asked for consent could be so arousing.

That night was the best sex you've ever had. It was slow and tender at first, and when you were both comfortable enough, it got rougher, in a good way.  You fell asleep curled up against him, rocked by his heartbeat.

The next morning you woke up alone in bed. Jake left a note on the nightstand, saying he had to go to work early. "Call me when you can, have a safe flight. PS: Gonna miss you. PPS: If anything happens to you on the flight, I'll hunt the pilot." You chuckled and tucked the post-it into your notebook. You quickly got ready and Robert took you to the airport.

The ride was rather quiet, neither of you wanting to be separated again. He helped you with your luggage and waited with you until you finally had to go. You hugged him tightly and thanked him for the past weeks. "Call me when you get there, okay? And don't forget to hydrate. And eat. And..." "Ok Dad," you joked with a smile, "I'll call you, don't worry. Love you, Robby." "I love you too. Be safe."

8 months.

You have been stuck in New York for 8 long months. You did a lot though. A new album, some concerts, some interviews and photo shoots. The 'scandals' in the press disappeared and the journalists finally focused more on your songs. You video called the Daggers as much as you could - almost every day - and texted a lot with your brother, reassuring him that you continued to see a therapist and that you were doing well under the stress. But the one you called and texted the most was Jake. Every day you had a sweet good morning text, and every night you had an equally sweet good night text.

You missed him.

You missed them all, of course. But Jake Seresin was under your skin. And as hard as it was to admit, you loved him. You couldn't wait to see him again. Of course, no one knew you were together. Natasha seemed to have doubts, and sometimes Bob was somewhat suspicious too but as long as they didn’t ask you didn’t say anything.

8 months of hard work and your agent agreed to let you go to San Diego as he made an arrangement between a recording studio and your label.  You told no one but Penny. You wanted to surprise the team. You had one last show to do in New York and then you would catch your flight to California. 

Before the concert, you called your brother, knowing that he would probably be at the Hard Deck with the others, since it was almost 7:00 p.m there. As soon as he answered, you could hear the team around him. "Wow, look at you Nemesis! You look great!" Natasha said, smiling broadly. You laughed and thanked her when you heard the other whistle and complimented you. "Not too stressed?" Bob asked as the others calmed down. "Well, it's the last show for at least six weeks. I’ll try to make it fun!" "Of course you will," said a voice you recognized immediately. "Hangman, you look good," you teased as you saw him appear on the screen. You noticed the slight blush on his cheeks as he spotted you in your dress and makeup. He didn't have time to reply that you had to go on stage.  "Ok bye guys, gotta go, love you!" you hung up and had time to see a text message on your phone : 'You better keep that dress'. You smiled. You may have fallen in love with Jake, but you also knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

The show went smoothly, and after a celebratory dinner with your team, you went back to your soon-to-be-outdated apartment. All your things were packed and ready to go. You couldn't wait to move to San Diego. Your flight was at 3 pm in New York and you were scheduled to land in California at 6 pm. Bless the time zone difference, if you were lucky, you could get to the Hard Deck before the team and wait for them.

But since nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, your flight was an hour late. That wasn't too bad, you could still surprise them, you just had to change the way. You contacted Penny and asked her if she could manage to distract them. She agreed and gave you permission to use the back door to be more discreet when you entered. Your excitement was through the roof, you felt like a child on Christmas Day.  By the time your cab reached the bar, your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe you were finally there, finally where you felt at home. But you had to be reunited with those you considered family to feel completely at home. You almost ran to the back door of the bar, re-reading the instructions Penny had sent you: she'd distract the Daggers by asking them to bring back some heavy beer packs and other beverages, and you could hide discreetly by the pool table.

The perfect plan.

You did as she said, a smile forming on your lips as you heard your friends in the distance. You were stressed, but not in an anxious way, you just couldn't wait. You picked up a pool cue to keep your hands busy. When you finally heard them coming, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming ‘surprise!’. The first person to spot you was Mickey. His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, almost tripping Reuben, Natasha and Javy. They didn't have time to grumble before Mickey pointed at you, speechless. A small laugh escaped you as they froze in front of you, one after the other. Only Jake, Bradley and Robert were missing. Bradley and your twin were chatting, a little bit behind, and you soon heard Robert's voice.

"Are you guys okay? You look like you've seen a ghost..." His voice became almost inaudible at the end of his sentence, as he realized they were all staring at you. You smiled at them and tilted your head. "Are we playing, or are you afraid of losing?" you asked with a bit of a laugh. Natasha couldn't hold back her laughter and almost ran to hug you. "It's good to see you again, Mini Floyd."

The others came right after to greet you, hugging you and sometimes lifting you off the ground. You laughed, happy to see them again. Your twin was still frozen, not believing his eyes. You scooted up to him and pinched his cheeks. "Good evening Robby, did you-" You didn't even have time to finish your sentence before he pulled you into his arms. You smiled and hugged him as tightly as you could, small tears of joy escaping from both of you.  "It's good to see you," he finally said, "Missed your stupid face.” "Oh I know you did, you can't live without me dearest brother !" you chuckled. You caught up with everyone, admitting that you were on a break, but not telling them that you were here for good. You wanted everyone to be here to make that announcement but someone was missing.

You paid for your round of beers - and sparkling water for Bob - and went looking for Jake. Why wasn't he here?  Penny grinned as she noticed the look on your face. "Don't worry Y/N, he's just on the phone with his sister. One of his nephews' birthdays, I think." "Thanks Pen- Wait, what are you-" "I know everything dear, he talks too much for his own good if you ask the good questions." "How did you find out?" you whispered, making sure no one was listening. "Well, it wasn't really hard. Some of your interviews or shows have been aired," she pointed at the old TV, "and the calls you made ; he just had that look in his eyes. I can tell when a man is head over heels. He certainly is."

You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. Of course she'd guessed; Penny knew the squadron like her own children. She chuckled and handed you another beer. “Go surprise him.” You smiled and nodded, heading to the front door. Your heart fluttered when you finally heard Jake’s voice. It was hushed but you could feel his smile through his soft laughter. You waited for him to end his call, still hidden by the door. You bit back a chuckle when you heard him saying goodbye to the kids with a baby voice. It was ridiculously adorable.

“Hello stranger, does that pretty voice have a name ? ” 

He was a bit startled and turned to you hastily, not believing his ears. A surprised expression appeared on his face, but a flirtatious smile quickly took its place. "That's my line, baby." "Oh really? Supposed I forgot," You grinned proudly and took a step towards him, "Did ya miss me, big boy?" He grinned and grabbed your waist, sending a sweet shiver down your spine. "Not as much as you missed me." You rolled your eyes in amusement and set the beer you had brought him aside. You took a moment to just drown in his green eyes, the light of the sunset making them look surreal. How could he be so handsome ? 

He was quite speechless to have you here, it made you smile. Jake was always so talkative, it was strange to have him so quiet around you. "Cat got your tongue, Seresin?" He chuckled and stroked your cheek. "Why don't you check?" You smiled and finally kissed him. You had waited 8 months for this feeling and it was just so good. His soft lips against yours, his strong hands on your waist, fingers digging lightly into your flesh. You put your hands on his neck, parted your lips to let his tongue reach for yours. One of his hands slid up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch as the kiss ended.  "I have to admit, I missed that," he whispered with a grin, his forehead pressed gently against yours. You huffed and rolled your eyes, "Told you I had you under my spell." He laughed and kissed the nape of your neck, holding you close. You smiled and stroked his hair before stepping back.  "Let's join the team before ‘Tasha gets suspicious."

You took his hand and headed inside, eager to tell your friends the big news.

You missed the atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The soft songs from the jukebox, the always nice patrons, your favorite people at the pool table or playing darts... everything was so comforting. Your smile widened when you reached the Daggers, dragging Jake with you. "Look who I found outside," you teased, "good old Hangman.” "Ah, you should have let him out," Bradley sneered, sipping his beer. “Real funny Bradshaw, I know you already missed me.”

You let the two men fight like two children and when you noticed Natasha's eyes on your hand in Jake's, you blushed a little. She grinned and whispered something to Reuben. You could read a little 'damn it !' on his lips as he frowned. "Okay guys, Javy and I won! The bet is over!" "What? No!" Bradley was outraged. He grumbled and handed Natasha a bill.  "Wait a minute, what bet?" your twin asked. "Well, my dear Bob, it seems that our little Jake and your sister... are together." You blushed and wanted to hide, not knowing how your brother would react. Jake was already arguing with Javy, telling him he was a traitor for betting on it, since he had confided in him on the subject.

"Oh, I've known for a while," Robert said simply with a smile. "What?!" you huffed, letting go of your boyfriend's hand to face your twin. "What do you mean you knew?" "Well, for starters, Jake stayed with you the night before you went back to New York. And you hid the hickey he left on your neck badly. Then I got suspicious when every time we ended our video calls, he got one in the next two minutes; and he's not the most discreet when he's on the phone. But I knew it when he bought that really nice necklace and asked me, of all people, for advice. A week later you were wearing it. So yeah, I knew," he shrugged with a smile, laughing a little at your expression. "What? I just thought that neither of you were ready to tell anyone? But you seem happy so it's okay."

You were surprised. You didn't think he'd take it so well, but you weren't going to complain.

So the evening began with a secret revealed. You didn't hesitate to stay close to Jake, even ending up on his lap when the bar was full. You listened to their adventures from the last few months - at least what they were allowed to share.  It was good to be with them again, to find that comfort.  After Mickey bought his round, he turned to you. "Well, let's ask the burning question: how long are you staying?" "To tell you the truth... I'm not leaving. I'm moving into my little house 10 minutes from here tomorrow," you smiled. "And you didn't tell me?!" said Jake and Bob at the same time, making them blush under the laughter of the others. "I wanted to surprise you! I've got a new deal with my label, so I can stay here." "Cheers to that! To the definitive return of Y/N Nemesis Floyd," Bradley decreed, raising his beer.

You all laughed and toasted each other, happy with the news.

All was finally well.

You had finally found your place, and you wouldn't change it for the world.

[audra1890]

Some lore/backstory dump

they‘re not evil, they’re just very unlucky

Tw: death, angst, depression, burnout their song: Come over (again) by crawlers

Beside my brainrot content on tiktok, their lore is actually pretty sad. Who would’ve thought the humour would be a coping mechanism??? definitely not me🫸🏻 (I did). Also I'm not a writer and english isn't my first language, so it's just pretty basic summary. A case of she fell first but he fell harder. First, MC:

Audra Bucket is an 18-year-old muggle-born witch who joined the wizarding world in her 5th year, having never been in contact with it before. This led her to approach some things naively, and she still suffers the consequences today - one of them being her connection with Sebastian.

From the beginning of her time at Hogwarts, Audra had always looked up to Sebastian. As someone new to the wizarding world, she was in awe of his knowledge, self-confidence, his magical abilities and the way he was thinking about certain topics. Over the course of her 5th year, the two became close friends. However, Sebastian was aware that Audra looked up to him and used this to his advantage. He realised how Audra’s naive and kind demeanour made her persuasive, her innocence shielding her from suspicion. People like Ominis felt protective of her because of that, never thinking she could do any harm. Sebastian used this to keep Ominis from interfering with their plans in 5th year — some of the many things he regrets to this day. By the end of 5th year, Audra had fallen in love with Sebastian, although he was too focused on trying to find a cure for Anne to be aware of her feelings for him.

After the traumatic events of her first year at being at Hogwarts and being overwhelmed by the many tasks of her classmates and professors, Audra suffered from burnout. She was forced to spend her 6th year at her family’s home near London, where she was home-schooled. This allowed her to finally focus solely on her magical studies and recover. As with Sebastian, the use of dark magic and unforgivable curses took a toll on her, clouding both her emotions and her reasoning for a while. She stopped using ancient magic after the battle against Ranrok, feeling a mixture of hatred and fear for her ability to wield it after seeing the destruction such power can cause in the wrong hands. After all that has gone wrong in the past, Audra no longer considers herself worthy of that kind of magic. Shortly after the start of 6th year, she received an owl from Ominis - the only person who had reached out to her during her time at home, if only on one occasion. He informed her that Anne had passed away and that Sebastian was becoming worse than ever, adopting new destructive behaviours and coping mechanisms. Since then, Audra has blamed herself in part for Anne's death. This guilt was intensified when, in her 7th year, she was reunited with Sebastian after a year of silence. Unfortunately, the person she had fallen in love with at the end of her 5th year, was no longer the same. She began to believe that if she had been able to help Anne with ancient magic, the parts of Sebastian she had fallen in love with wouldn't have died with his twin. Occasionally, Sebastian shows glimpses of his former self, leaving Audra clinging to the belief that one day he would return to the person he once was.

AU Sebastian, 19 years old - 7th year:

After Anne's death, Sebastian was consumed by grief and guilt - not only because of his uncle, but also for the role he had played in Audra's burnout and the damage he had done to his friendship with Ominis. He knew he had dragged them both down with him as he grasped at every straw of hope - which was now all for nothing.

During 6th year, Sebastian had been desperately trying to forget all that had happened and his failure to save Anne, so he never reached out to Audra during her time at home. This was leaving Audra thinking he wants nothing to do with her anymore, because she wasn't able to use her ability to take Anne's pain away. She didn't dare to contact him, believing he must hate her now. Sebastian had put all of his energy into the search for a cure and now he had lost everything nevertheless. He vowed never to invest so much of himself into another person again. He became someone who cared little for the feelings of others, focusing only on his own desires and survival. This often got him into even more trouble and detentions. Rumours about Solomon's death and Sebastian's involvement with the dark arts began to circulate, causing many students to avoid him. This only encouraged him to go further down that path. He felt like an outcast and saw little reason to care how others viewed him. His behaviour spiralled as he picked fights, skipped classes and abandoned his passion for learning and books. Loneliness and depression consumed him, and he became desperate for any form of distraction, resulting in typical teenage rebellion. All this caused Ominis to distance himself from his best friend, as he could not bear to see Sebastian self-destruct even further.

Despite all that and his constant denying of his feelings, Sebastian realised how much Audra had meant to him, while she was absent. In his weakest moments, he remembered how she had always put him above her own well-being and cared deeply for him, even when he used her and her ancient magic for his own purposes. She would have done anything to impress him and win his approval, including using the unforgivables.

Audra's return at the beginning of 7th year stirred up all kinds of mixed emotions in him. Seeing her again was a painful reminder of everything he had tried to forget. He was suddenly forced to face his feelings that he considered a weakness and anger became his dominant reaction. They clashed often, but despite their arguments, their bond deepened. Audra gradually helped him to reconnect with Ominis - a much-needed positive influence. Audra and Sebastian are dating now, but the relationship is hard on both of them and their closest friends, whenever the past catches up with them.

[idkfitememate]

I am CRYING. FURINA MY BABY YOUR TEAPOT LINES MAKE ME CRY. SHES SO INNOCENT BUT SHES BEEN SO TRAUMATIZED IT HURTS ME. WHY FOCALORS WHY.

😭😭 Furina asks us to dress up as a duo with her. And she said she’d even do our makeup. She’s trying to take back her stolen childhood. MY EYES ARE PUFFY FROM TEARS.

DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE ‘the more you let someone in the easier it is for them to hurt you��� LINE. SHES SCARED TO LET PPL IN AND IM WAILING.

I wanna give her all my love and affection!!! 😭

-🦌 anon, who is curled up on the floor crying

The Curtains Close

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Furina & Neuvillette

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.1k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst to fluff, Furina is going through a breakdown, Neuvillette realizes he’s been distant

Forcing Furina on a bed wasn’t easy. The entire day was spent with and you having a “bonding day” and spend the day inside.

Makeup and clothes whirled past in a blur of blues and makeup was pressed into your fur. The entire day was fun, eating snacks and overall just having fun.

At least, it would be if you didn’t notice the sadness behind Furina’s eyes.

Every time she looked at you in your frilly little dress with a big blue bow around your waist and a smaller blue and gold bow around your head.

Now, you’d be a little ticked at being forced into an outfit, but seeing her on the verge of tears when you began to shake your head no - no matter how much she would deny it - you forced your pride down your throat and and put it on.

Her smile was worth it.

The entire day you could just feel her off-ness, and you’re pretty sure you know why. The events pertaining her curse and the death of that bi- I mean Foçalors had just passed and Furina was finally free.

Free to be human once more.

You, knowing the lore, knew that she had suffered with being alive - unchanging and never aging - for five-hundred-years. You knew that both Foçalors and Neuvillette understood that that would have and has had lasting effects on the poor girl.

But you knew they’d never understand. How could they? They were immortal. They had to get used to the passing of the ones they knew if they were mortal because they were literally built for it. Furina wasn’t. She never was.

And now that she was free, she was coming. Crashing down.

The curtain had fallen and the star of the show has fallen to her knees. Her tears stain the floor as the crowd leaves and her wails echo through the empty halls.

To be honest you haven’t seen much of Neuvillette around. You understood that he had new issues to attend to as the new overseer of the nation of Fontaine. But you barely see him in the halal’s anymore.

Your thoughts were immediately halted when you heard small sniffles coming from your friend.

Your head whipped in her direction only to see tears pouring down her face. You rushed over as fast as you could, wiping those tears away as you gently chittered at her, pulling her crumpled form up so she could face you. At your concerned expression, she only cried more.

“I-It’s just,” she started, “… Did she ever love me? Was I ever even worth anything to her? I played my part and danced till collapse and I didn’t even get a thank you! I don’t understand… I watched my friends die… I watched my f-family die… I outlived all of them! And I didn’t… even… get a thank you…” She broke down back into sobs, holding onto herself as she rocked back and forth.

You could only watch as she shattered in front of you. Pain and guilt rose in your stomachs as you stared. Huffing, you jumped off the bed, and grabbed your stuffed jellyfish, dragging it over and throwing it up before climbing up after her.

You gently nudged it towards her and made sure she grabbed on before jumping back down and racing through the halls.

You ran out the building as fast as your little legs could carry you, the winds of Teyvat boosting your form farther. You continued on until to made it to the Opera Eclipse and ran through there until you made it to Neuvillette’s office.

You didn’t even bother to knock before shoving to door open and rushing up to him. He stopped his writing and looked down, his eyes softening at you. He opened his mouth to speak before you grabbed his sleeve. You yanked and pulled and he finally stood up, allowing you to lead him.

Making it back home, you all but forced the man into Furina’s room, and forced him on the bed. She had stopped sobbing by this point, but silent tears still ran down her face.

She looked shocked at Neuvillette’s appearance and he looked shocked at her dishevelment. You shuffled up to her in the ridiculous dress you had on - you would later find out it perfectly match the dress Furina had on when she came into being, after being separated from Foçalors - and part her lips.

“Do you… wish for me to repeat myself?” She whispered, looking at the slightly panting Neuvillette with worry. But at your nod she sighed, realizing why you did this.

And if her Otter wanted something, who was she to deny them that.

When she parted her lips you leapt from the bed, and walked out of the room to give them privacy. You could tell she hesitated at your lack of presence, but hearing her start to speak after you closed the door, you wagged your little tail in relief.

Staring towards the kitchen, you planned on getting them both nice tall glasses of water.

And by the time you got back and managed to open the door, you were met with Neuvillette holding the girl close and shushing her, a light patter of rain outside.

“Of course we’re grateful. I’m grateful. I am so sorry my Lady that I had neglected you. I will say it until the stars and the moon itself command me to stop that you are appreciated. That I care. And though I cannot speak for her fully I can say that my Ar- … Foçalors did care for you. And she loved you. I love you. I care for you. I will never understand the trials of being human and I know that what she did is irreversible, but I do want to be there.” He continued to speak to the crying child in his arms, neither noticing you walking in while dragging the glasses of water in.

Making a small noise, the Sovereign looked down and smiled at you, though you could see the tears in his eyes. He picked you up then the glasses, handing one to Furina who was still clutching your plushy.

“And I can also say that our darling here loves you and cares.” Neuvillette mused, running a hand quickly through your fur.

You chuffed in response and licked the girls face causing a giggle to escape her throat.

Here she was wanted. Here she was needed. Here she was loved.

And you were going to do your damndest to make sure it stays that way.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Wanna hug her and hold her and give her kisses on the cheek and UGH- My baby໒꒰ྀི ╥﹏╥ ꒱ྀིა

I personally think she’s like… a teen. She looks like a teen. So imagine being in a mental state of an adult with the emotional state of a child and being forced to watch everyone you know and love die. I couldn’t do it she is so strong but I STILL WANNA HOLD HER MY BABY!!! ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა

[moonspirit]

Angst time!

• Annie is pregnant, somewhat far along maybe 16-81 weeks

•Pollitical event

•Assassination attempts and Armin is badly hurt. Doesn’t wake up for days after

•the stress causes her to loose the baby

•has to go through this without armin and ends up spending ages by his bed size with out moving eating or taking care of herself, on top of this she is still in pain from the miscarriage

•Armin wakes up and immediately checks on her and the baby like he will do

•Annie doesn’t know how to react

I love this idea but I have no idea how it will play out especially with the others like how they will react to the situation.

Holy fuck anon 🥲 You're trying to destroy these two without the possibility of repair?!

tw: pregnancy, miscarriage, extreme angst.

Tbh a stillbirth at around 20 weeks along is an incredibly traumatic event. To humour this, we will say Annie begins to suffer from hypertension and develops placental complications that... eventually lead to a stillbirth.

She's by Armin's bedside after having cried her eyes red once again because he's so still, so cold, so... eerily quiet in his sleep. He just ran a high fever the night before and it took everything in her to not imagine him dying. Still, it's been a month and he hasn't woken up. The doctors say they can't tell if he ever will. It's like the world is broken in two, unable to breathe or function.

There's no sign. Nothing seems wrong with her other than the tremors in her hands when the fear of Armin never coming back overwhelms her.

Nothing's wrong... Except her baby's been really quiet for a few days now.

Until she begins to bleed in her sheets one day.

Just like that, it's gone. Her baby, gone. Dead in her belly. Cold and heavy and so so far away.

Annie breaks down.

For the past weeks ever since finding out she was carrying life within her, she's bonded. Bonded with he or she, an imaginary wisp of blonde hair, the picture of blue eyes and a small hand curling around her finger. Bonded with the expectation of a voice gurgling and babbling, eagerly looking forward to the time when she'll finally win her bet with Armin that their baby will say "mama" first.

And Armin... She remembers how he looked when she told him. She remembers how he cried. She remembers the tremble of his hands when they caressed her stomach, still flat then. She remembers how he began to call them Mama and Papa. How he kissed her everywhere. How he brought home cake and other sweets and watched her eat away with gusto. How he laughed into her neck and fell into a comfortable silence with her as the night progressed and they lay in each other's arms, thinking about their baby. How he'd kiss her stomach and talk to their child every single day.

But he's not a Papa anymore, and she, no longer a Mama.

Their baby's gone.

The others try to help. They comfort her and wipe her tears. They hold her as she shrieks in pain at the loss in her stomach and heart. They make her eat. They make her drink. They make her sleep, but only so much works; sleep doesn't come even to help forget the emptiness in her body for a few hours.

They don't tell Annie how much they were looking forward to welcoming a tiny baby into their big happy family.

Not Pieck, not Reiner, not Jean or Connie... They mean well, but they don't help rid her of the ache, not really.

When Armin finally wakes, it's like atleast one half of the world has been righted. But he wakes, and looks at her with those blue eyes, watery and moist, relieved to see her again. Relieved to see them again.

But there is no them. Only her.

Everything that cannot be said, he understands the moment he reaches for her stomach and finds it flat and devoid of life. Empty, where a cradle used to once be. Quiet, where a voice should've been.

All is still.

[jess-emurphy]

There's a lot of symbolism and parallels this episode to animals and what they mean to humans. Tw for talks of animal death.

Throughout the episode, we are reminded that Hughie had a cat named Jar Jar, clearly a beloved pet that as a nine year old, he didn't want his pet to be put down. I don't think Hugh was trying to blame Hughie in anyway of letting the cat suffer, I actually think because of the way Hugh views Hughie, he sees this forever child, someone he can't disappoint anymore than he has already been disappointed. He didn't want to go against his son's wishes, but because of this he exposed him to something more gruesome, essentially he caused more harm than good.

Hughie at first, wanted his father to live, just like Jar Jar the cat but of course we see that he changes his mind. He decides to respect his father's wishes to pass away before lore damage is done. Daphne takes the V, gives it to Hugh, because similarly, she sees a young boy she disappointed all those years ago and also doesn't want to cause more harm to him...which results in a gruesome mess that causes more harm than good.

Animals when they near death are scared, confused, they can change drastically in behaviour, it's one of the main signs that something is wrong. The way Hugh reacted throughout the entire episode, looking confused, terrified of everything, not wanting to be touched, not knowing his own son, like that of a dying animal.

And then Hughie makes the tough choice to, in a way, put his father down, like you would with a pet. He comforts him with words, his father is confused (while it's a peaceful death for animals, its also going to be confusing and scary for them as they don't know what's going on).

What's interesting is that sometimes animals aren't always out down because they're sick, but it could also because they're dangerous and we all know that a lot of animals are going to act on instinct. Biting a person is a big cause for putting dogs down.

It's funny to see how Hugh never wanted to be like Jar Jar and so he gaves power to the person who caused him to become that scared cat and yet the person who he didn't think could do it, because he still saw that nine year old boy, was the one to make that tough choice.

I don't think Daphne or Hugh are bad people by any means when it came to this decision (and I mean in this specific scenario obviously Daphne is not the best person on the world for her abandonment of her son but thats for another day-) but they needed to stop viewing Hughie through this child victim lens, like he can't ever grow up from that one traumatic event from his past.

I might make another post on the farm animals, herbivores, becoming carnivorous after being pumped full of a drug that made them go against their very nature, but I need to do some more thinking on the symbolism and meaning of it all (if it even has one).

I also think it's worth mentioning the connection of the worm inside the rabbit and the one inside Butcher, like a parasitic worm that both humans and animals get.