#and I still felt bad for yelling at these abusive people at the end like I was the bad person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ratcash-wasgud · 11 months ago

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A gentle breeze could be our end ༊*·˚

Okay, so I had a vision about this very specific idea for a fic, which is...what if you took the role of Kinuyo? Hear me out, plsplspls.

(i altered a lot of canon things, sorry sorry. (i'm also sorry if anyone has done this before))

WC: 4K

TW: Abuse, Sexual harassement, Pedophelia and Prostitution. Basically kinda fucked up, sorry.

You always felt like a burden to the world. Even in the womb, you hurt your mother. She died the moment you left her body, maybe even halfway, taking a great thing from the world, and giving it something useless with your own birth.

You didn't cry out when you saw the light, your little mouth opened, but no sound came out. The world was quiet.

As you grew up, you never managed get grow into anything you wanted to, and your father hated you for it. You never heard him say a word, but you knew he said hateful things. You tried to learn to read in secret, but only managed to barely get through one book after years. Learning was hard. Living was hard too.

You were 10 when he first hit you. It happened because you accidently dropped a cup, shattering it on the ground. You felt his footsteps approaching behind you, then when you felt his presence right behind you, he striked. He noticed how you survived, and you only gained a bruise from it.Plus, you couldn't yell for help, nor tell anyone. This gave him confidence. He started hitting you for every little mistake, sometimes even just for being born. You could see him feeling bad about it sometimes, but he still did it again. It just made you believe it even more that this is all your own fault. For being born wrong.

And you were 15 when he started missing your mother too much. He touched you, he made you touch him, and he forced you to open up and show him everything he wanted. You hated it. You hated your own body for exsisting, and giving him this option of using you. For having a body that could please men. Please...him.

One day though, he got caught. A neighbour, bringing over some leftovers caught him, standing bare before you, your tears dripping to the floor, as he hold your nose shut, so that you'd eventually open your mouth for him. But he got caught. It was over.

He had to get rid of you, so he sold you. But even after he left your life, he still wanted you to have a rotting future. He picked the brothel where he knew the man were disgusting. The most deprived kind. He sold you to Madame Kaji's brothel. By that point, your body was weak, and even walking was something you hated doing. You just wanted to lay down, and wait for your body to disappear.

But she was something warm. Something beautiful. Madame Kaji took you in, and smiled at you. She taught you everything you yearned for to know. She taught you to properly read and even write. She taught you manners and how to hide your fear. How to survive, even if you're weak. And she never hurt you in the process. She taught you sign langauge, and in the process, you learned to even read lips a little. She taught you a sign, which, in your head, you named "Love". It consisted of her gently kissing her fingers, then putting her hands around herself. Like a hug and a kiss in one. Love.

As you got better in writing, you wrote down everything that happened to you so far to her. Sometimes you teared up while writing, but she was always there, gently soothing you, and caressing your hair. She promised you that no man would ever touch you again, and she'll give you hapiness. You slept in her room, never leaving her side when it wasn't really necessary. She kept you safe. You were happy. She became your world. You wanted to be by her side, forever.

Living in a brothel made you more concious about people's sexual life, and every time you saw a man's face contort in pleasure, a shiver ran down your spine, prickling at your intestines, feeling your insides recoil in fear and disgust. You wanted to run away, and just jump back into Madame Kaji's embrace, but you had to be strong, like she wanted you to be. You never had to sleep with a man, but sometimes you went out to serve drinks, having to see the girls, who you admired greatly and saw as big sisters, having to engage in acts that would've have made you have a breakdown. Still, you stayed useless.

You wanted to be useful, you really did, but she never let you do much. You were too precious, she claimed. You really did love Madame Kaji, but you felt like a burden. No...you knew you were a burden.

One day, you managed to somehow convince her to let you serve drinks on a busy day. You nuzzled your face into her palm, gently kissing it before you picked up a tray and hurried into the customer area. You saw a man, middle aged, balding, the usual kind of man she sees there, sitting alone at a table. You sat down at the table, giving him a small, weak smile, and poured him sake. You put your finger on your lips, signaling that he shouldn't expect words from you.

The man smiled, sipping the sake. He stared at you, and kept...he kept staring. It started to feel really uncomfortable. His eyes started to burn through your clothes, and you suddenly felt his hand on your knee...slowly creeping up. You felt like throwing up.

Suddenly, Madame Kaji appeared next to you, her hand slipping his off you.

"Boss Hamata," Madame Kaji greets the man, as you sit there, not hearing a word. She signals you to leave, so you do. "She's not up for business." She says to Hamata, wearing a polite smile.

"Oh, is she now?" The man says with a cruel smile. "She's be a great addition to my home." He says, mostly to himself, as he stands up.

"You don't want another girl? Your usual is free at the moment." Kaji says after him.

"No," The man says again. "I lost my apetite." He then casually leaves.

The next day was your doom. The same man you remembered from last night returned with an army, and tore you out of Madame Kaji's hands.

Hamata was the devil himself. He took you because you were weak and couldn't fight back. He took you as his bride the same day, and left you covered in bruises the same night. He squeezed your throat, kneeled on your wrists, hit your skin, and forced his way in. He loved it, but you felt yourself slowly die inside day by day.

The worst thing? He was the same as your father. He had the same disgusting glint in his eyes, he licked his lips the same way, and he...he...tasted the same too. You tried jumping off the balcony, he punished you after. You tried stabbing yourself, he punished you after. You tried to poison yourself, he punished you after. You yearned for death by that point.

You spent most of your free time, when you could move, on the balcony, watching the brothel's door...hoping to catch a glimpse of Madame Kaji. Even seeing her form would give you comfrort...but you never did. You missed her more than anything. More than your own freedom.

One night, you were trying to sleep with the pain that he left behind that day, sorrounded by guards, to make sure you're not trying to kill yourself again, until...the guards fell, one by one...and a samurai walked out of the darkness.

Mizu looked at you, the weak, deaf and mute girl she was set out to kill that night. She was determined. She needed those informations that Madame Kaji offered as payment. She had killed a lot of inocent things before, what's one more?

But when she saw your face...covered in bruises, shaking and tearing up, she felt something change inside her. You crawled away from her, backing up until your back hit the wall. She stepped closer to you, not liking the fear in your eyes. She couldn't help but see your beauty, even if it shouldn't matter right now. She extended a hand to you, but you didn't take it.

Obviously. You were afraid of her too. In your eyes, she was a man. A threat.

So, she did the sign Madame Kaji told her to. "Love." She saw your eyes soften, and your features almost brighten up. She offered her hand again, and this time, you took it. She heard more guards coming, so as you took her hand, she started running and pulled you with her. She hid with you, and held you close, gently soothing your hair. She felt you shaking in her arms, and she...she felt something snap inside her. She put her hands around your head, to quickly snap your neck...but she couldn't. Her hands wouldn't move. So, she stood up, leaving you in the hiding place, and started casually walking out.

She knows if the fact that she was here gets out, Hamata sends out his Thousand Claws to burn down Madame Kaji's brothel...so she needed to act now. She decided to face the army now.

As she walked out, and the Claws started charging at her after exiting the first door, she fought back with all her might. She slowly got tired. Her body was about to give out after slashing down hundreds of men, but something flashed in her mind.

She saw Mikio's face. Their duel. The face he made when he betrayed her. And she couldn't help but see your face too. She knows the world betrayed you too. She imagined you getting betrayed in the same way she did, and imagined you crying along with her. She saw you get killed by the men she is currently slaying down.

She couldn't give up. She finished the whole army, and went back to get you, wounded and exhausted. When you saw her, covered in blood, your eyes widened in fear.

You got scared of her again. She sighed "Love" again, but this time, you shook your head, and curled up in your hiding place. Mizu sighed, and kneeled by you.

She then started to write on the floor, using the blood on her. "I'll protect you." She said it as she wrote it, trying to convince you to communicate too.

You read the text, and looked at her, your eyes still so scared and vulnerable, it made Mizu's heart squeeze. She didn't know you, she reminded herself. Still...she meant when she said she's protect you.

Your hand shook as she reached out, dipping your finger in a small pool of blood that dripped down from her clothes. "Protect the Madam." You wrote.

Mizu sighed. Why did you care about Kaji right now? You're obviously scared for your own life too, so why not care about saving yourself?

"She'll be safe." She writes back. "I killed the ones who could hurt her." She finishes. It's true, she did kill everyone...but left Hamata to be slayed by Kaji herself.

Then you looked up at her again, and stood up. You followed her outside, leaving that blood ridden house.

When she brought you back to Madam Kaji, you jumped into her arms.

"They won't come looking for her." Mizu says, switching back to deadpan, as she nudged her head towards the wounded Hamata at the exit of his house.

Madama Kaji nodded while gently while gently caressing your hair.

"Still...she can't stay here. In a place like this...they will want to take her again." She sighed. Mizu's eyes widened. "I couldn't protect her once...I'd rather perish than see her be taken again."

"You want me to take her with me? She'll die by my side." Mizu responds, shaking her head.

"You're the reason she's alive. You didn't give her the freedom of death, you gave her the freedom of life. You didn't do what I asked you to...so I ask you to keep her safe."

Mizu, biting the inside of her cheek, kept quiet for a couple moments, thinking about it.

"I'll find her a new home." She says, sighing. "I'll keep her safe until then." She says, now looking down at you.

Considering now that she was alone, since they took Akemi back to her home, and Ringo left her after she did nothing about it, still...she couldn't enjoy being alone. She now had you.

You cried when Madame Kaji told you that you had to leave. You kissed her hand repeatedly, like how you always did when you nuzzled into her palm, and clinged to her clothes. After you let go, Madame Kaji signed "Love", and with one simple tear, she bid goodbye.

Later that night, after walking the whole day, Mizu set up a small campfire in the woods for the night. You sat there, not even trying to communicate, just staring at the fire. Mizu felt confilcted. She didn't know you, she reminded herself again, but deep inside she already got herself attached. She lightly poked your shoulder, making sure not to make too much contact and to scare you.

You turned to face her, your big eyes shining at her, and your features shining in the light of the camfire. Still...you had circles under your eyes, bruises on your neck, your lips wounded from you...or someone else...biting on them too much.

"I saw you reading lips." Mizu says, making sure to articulate every word properly. "I didn't know you could do that."

You tilt your head at her, then purse your lips. You pick up a stick from the ground and start writing in the dirt. Your hands move softly, gently even, as if the stick was breathing in your hand. You focused your eyes on the thing your were writing, and your gaze followed your hand. Your hair fell into your face a little, framing your features.

"Madame helped." You write, then turn your face back to Mizu, to read her lips if she responds.

"...kind of her." She murmurs, making you unable to read it. She wanted to talk to you, but somehow...it was hard. Not for the fact that you were deaf or mute, but the fact that she somehow...felt nervous. As if she made the wrong move, you'd shatter where you stand. You seemed so delicate, and Mizu knew her blood stained fingers and harsh words would only cause you harm. She really didn't want herself to be the one to look after you. Plus, she knew you were deadly afraid of men, and you saw her as one. Suddenly, she felt this strong urge to reveal herself. To make you feel safe. Or maybe because of other, more selfish reasons...to make you feel more comfortable around her. To make you open up.

"Don't be afraid." She says, now articulating enough for you to read. "I'm no man." She says, putting a hand on her chest. Your eyes widened in surprise, and wrote "Boy?" in the dirt.

Mizu shook her head. "Woman." She says, correcting you. You looked at her, utterly confused. Mizu slowly lowered her haori, revealing her binded chest. "Woman." She repeated.

Your gaze softened. You finally understood. A small smile pulled at the ends of your lips and nodded. You moved your hand again, writing again. "Fooled me." You then look at her, your smile reaching your shining eyes. Mizu chuckles in response.

"A habit of mine, yes. I do it most people." She leans back on her hands, now feeling more relaxed. She looked at your face again, and...she felt mesmerized. She felt horrible when the thought that she understood why Hamata wanted you popped up in her head.

You then start writing again, and Mizu's gaze snaps back to your hands again. "Thank you." You then give her a weak smile. "I'm not like you. I am not strong. I will die easier." You stopped for a moment before continuing. "So thank you for not letting me die."

Mizu's eyes widen. If she thinks about it, it's true, but the fact that you're talking so openly about it bothers her. "You won't die easily. You're strong too. I mean...you're still alive. That has to mean something." She says, squinting her eyes at the fire.

Mizu sees your shoulders move a little, as if you're giggling, but no sound comes out. She does imagine what your giggle would be like though. She imagines it to be soft and gentle, since that's the only way she ever seen you do anything. "True. But I wish I wasn't born wrong." You write.

Mizu presses her lips together and looks at you with pity. She doesn't know why she feels pity, she herself was born wrong too. She's a halfblood, someone who has always been a dog. Something rather than someone. "Sometimes the world is not fair." She shrugs. "But you need to make the most of your situation. You're lucky in a lot of ways."

Your eyebrows lifted, and you tilted your head, as if saying "Like what?" Mizu noticed that you were able to communicate a lot with your eyes and the way you moved your head.

"Well, for starters...you're beautiful." She said, not managing to keep her gaze on you. That was a stupid thing to say, huh? Why would she even say that? She met you the other day, saving you from some sadistic bastard, and having to take you in afterwards...she's not being appropriate.

But when she turned her gaze back to you, she saw you with your eyes wide and your cheeks flush. Oh. Did she do that?

The days go by, and wherever she goes, Mizu's first thing to do, is ask around for a new home for you. She doesn't want to bring you along to this wretched journey of hers any more than needed. You already had to see her kill a group of people the other day, and it left you pale and scared. She remembers how you looked with a drop of blood splattered across your face, and how you wiped it away with a shaky hand. She never wants to see it again.

While traveling together, Mizu learned how precious you are. She knows your past, and she sees you flinch when a man passes by you, but still you want to do anything you can for her. Even if it's small things like running the errand of buying food, running after her hat that fell off her head then got kidnapped by the wind, and sitting by yourself at a river for hours, trying to scrub the blood out of her clothes, even if it makes you shiver. Your delicate hands started to have small callouses from living out in the open with her, but your bruises faded away. Good, she though. You don't deserve to have any, so she'll never have you gain another one again.

Hm. She was planning more and more ahead. Why? Wasn't she planning to find you a home that's not beside her? She knew you couldn't be happy by her side, it wasn't the life you deserved. You deserved to find an angel of a husband, who's strong enough to protect you, coddle you daily, and never let you do any work. Who'll kiss you whenever he sees any sign of gloominess on your features, and someone who'll make you believe you're not born wrong.

And she knows you'd be the sweetest wife too. You'd put your delicate hands on his aching muscles after a hard day, massaging away the pain, then gently kiss the tip of his nose. You'd snuggle into him after feeding him something delicous for dinner, and trace the words you want to say into her skin with your fingers. Mizu would hum in response, just gently playing with your hair, letting the peace take over as she'd put her hand under your chin, making you look at her face when she'd say something, so you could read her lips. She'd never tell you about the blood she had to shed that day, only the good things. Like when she saw a small bird, and it reminded her of you, or when she managed to buy a kind of sweet you liked on her way back. She'd feed you that candy by hand too. She'd watch your pouty lips open as she'd place the sweet treat in your warm and wet--!

When did this turn into being about her? Something like that could never happen. She's a woman with a quest, not some domestic husband. Still...she wants it to be like that. She'd treat you well if she had the chance...But she doesn't. She lacks everything for that. She can't abandon her quest.

So, one day she finds an inn. The inn keeper tells her about recently losing his daughter, who was his only staff. He even sheds a tear. Mizu tells him about the girl she's traveling with.

"She's deaf, she's mute...but she's a hard worker. She can read lips, and writes well." She tells the inn keeper with a serious face. "I'm sure she won't even ask for payment if you take care of her." She says, but inside, she doesn't want to do this. She wants you to stay by her side, but...that's a wretched path. You need this. You need a peaceful life.

The inn keeper seems to be deep in though for a couple of moments before he nods. It's settled. After two months of torture, being in her care, she finally found you annew home. It's good news, right? So why...why does she feel like slashing the inn keeper's throat just for agreeing? Why does she feel the need to burn the whole inn down and running with you, hand in hand? She hates this. This dumb, annoying aching in her chest when she thinks about not staying by your side.

Your eyebrows shoot up when she breaks the news to you, and she sees you freeze. She sees the gears basically turning in your head, then...you shake your head and take a step closer to her. You point to her, then to herself, finishig the sigh by putting her hands together.

Mizu's heart skips a beat. "No, look...I can't let you stay with me. This guy, the inn keeper...he seems like a nice guy. He just lost his daughter, and he's willing to take care of you."

You shake your head again, and sign "Love". Mizu sighs. She wants to say "I love you too." but that's not how it works.

"I have a quest to finish, and you'll surely die in the process. You know that. So just...be happy about this." She says, averting her gaze. Your eyes droop, and your shoulders deflate. You shake your head again and hug her, wrapping your arms around her torso.

She hated the fact that she had to leave you, with a man no less, but she hoped she's making the right decision. She really wanted you to be happy. And if she wanted you to be happy by her side, then she needed to find her own peace first. She had to save ehrself first before she could save you.

In reality though, she knew you saved her.

After the hug ends, she looks into your eyes. "If I survive, I'll come back to you." She says, gently petting your head. Your eyes brighten up and you nod.

That was farewell, because Mizu left withouth another word.

And she meant it...she'll come back. She just wishes you'd wait for her, even if it's the most selfish wish she ever made. She sheds every drop of blood, thankful you're not there to see it. She closed her eyes every night, hoping you're doing the same too under a warm blaket, filled with warm food. And she sat sail, making a silent promise about spending the first night by your side when she arrives back in Japan.

That will be her true peace.

༊*·˚

#bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #kinuyo blue eye samurai

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traumasurvivors · 1 year ago

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Here's a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I've also put it below the read more for people that don't like external links.

When it comes to healing from trauma, there are a lot of emotions an individual may feel. One of these emotions is anger. Anger is one of the emotions I see invalidated the most. For example, I’ve been told that being angry is “letting the person who hurt me win.” I’ve been told that I’m only hurting myself with my anger and that it’s holding me back from healing. All of these assumptions were wrong.

Anger is often viewed as a bad thing because it can drive a lot of unpleasant behaviours but it can be used for good. While anger can hurt you and others, it doesn’t have to. There is a difference between destructive anger and constructive anger. Destructive anger is often expressed in a way that causes harm to yourself or others whereas constructive anger can be used to better understand your situation and figure out your needs. Constructive anger can be a way to show respect for yourself.

For example, if you’re in a situation with a friend where they do something that makes you angry (for example: cancelling plans, forgetting an important date, etc), constructive anger may involve you stepping away from the situation to figure out the cause of your anger (for example: you feel their actions imply you’re not important to them) so that you can then sit down with your friend and communicate in a calm manner. This may allow your relationship to grow and build with a better understanding of each other. Destructive anger in this situation may involve you yelling at your friend and insulting them, which will likely damage or destroy the relationship. If the hurt your friend has caused makes you want to re-evaluate your friendship, this is valid and there are still constructive ways to end a friendship that will cause the least amount of hurt for all involved. It is also important to note that ignoring the anger and bottling up is likely to cause a bigger blow up down the line or cause “overreactions” to other circumstances.

If anger is bottled up, it can end up coming out unintentionally. You might find you’re getting much angrier at everyday annoyances and disagreements than you might think reasonable. People might push you away or respond badly to your anger, because they feel they do not deserve it - and looking back later, you might feel they don’t deserve it, either. However, because of the anger you’re holding back, you can’t see that in the moment. This is why it is important to think and consider your anger, and listen to what it’s trying to tell you. I have found asking questions of myself to analyze my anger can help, such as in an anger inventory like this one.

While many people see anger as an emotion that causes people to lash out and destroy things, anger can also help to motivate people to create new things. Marches to “Take back the night”, or for “gay pride” have much of their motivation based in anger at injustice and oppression. New laws to better protect survivors of domestic abuse or otherwise help society are often driven by people feeling a huge amount of anger. Properly harnessed, anger can help to take action to change things for the better.

On a more personal level, anger can also be a motivator to improve one’s own life. Many people have used the anger they felt at those who put them down as a motivation toward success. That success might be completing schooling, winning an international athletic competition or publishing a novel. One thing all of those have in common is that they are rarely possible to do with only a little time or a little effort. They are time-consuming tasks which usually require months if not years of work. They can be easy to give up on without motivation - and for many, anger is a big help to keeping that motivation.

It took me years to feel anger. For the first while, I felt ashamed, guilty and like I deserved the abuse I’d endured. Feeling angry at the people responsible for this was a step in my healing. I began putting the blame on those responsible and not myself. I was realizing that I did not deserve to be treated in the harmful ways that I was. This was huge to me as someone that had spent years thinking I deserved my trauma and as a result, future trauma and abuse as well.

There were instances where my anger was destructive, mostly to myself. I engaged in self-harm as a way to vent my anger and it also caused problems in my relationship at the time because I held my anger in and would get really frustrated and project my anger onto my relationship which was not fair to my partner.

Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with my anger more efficiently. What works for someone is largely dependent on them and their needs. For me, it was a literal punching bag to vent out frustrations and journaling. It was sitting down with my anger and treating it like a friend trying to protect me (because it was in a way). It was listening to it and finding the cause. My true anger came from those who hurt me, and in a way, took a part of me. My anger largely came from grief and betrayal. Understanding where it came from did not make it disappear, but it did offer me perspective and allow me to better manage it.

For some, anger is a cover up for other emotions. It becomes a defense mechanism against feeling the sadness, hurt and other emotions that a person does not want to feel. The anger is just the first layer and understanding where that anger comes from, and that the anger is a cover up is a great step in moving beyond it. Feeling the emotions beneath it will play a big part in moving beyond the anger.

Anger is a valid and understandable emotion when it comes to healing from trauma, even if your trauma does not have a specific person to blame (natural disasters and death of a loved one are examples). If the person who hurt you did not mean to or did not know better (like another child), anger is still a valid emotion. You’ve been hurt and you should not have been and it is reasonable to feel angry at this.

For a lot of us, anger plays a part in our healing. And that’s okay! You’re allowed to feel angry. Anger becomes an issue when you allow it to consume you and hurt you or others. The feeling itself is not inherently bad, and it can actually be a good thing. Your anger can be used to help you. It’s what you do with your anger that decides whether it’s helpful to you or not. When I was first told that my anger was “letting the other person win,” I believed that and felt invalidated. I have since realized that my anger has been an important part in understanding my pain and my needs. My anger is not letting someone else win, but letting me win, by helping me to heal.

#my blog posts #i am going to be gradually re-posting my posts #with text under a read more #to make them more accessible to people that don't like external links #anger

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erroryeswifi · 4 months ago

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I like your Steve and Harold being nemesis hc! Can we get more lore? >< If you want to👍

Boy, am I glad you asked!

Okay for starters, the whole reason I picture them having beef stems from two main reasons:

1. Harold is a piece of shit bully, and Steve is extremely bulliable (imo at least haha) and

2. (The main reason) both Steve and Harold both went into school for psychology (at least they should have).

Now you may ask, wdym they both went into school for psychology? Where did you hear that from? Well, it’s more of an assumption tbh but the thing is, Harold is a Therapist and Steve is a school counsellor. Both are professions that need a bachelors degree in psychology (plus teachers college for Steve since he’s also a teacher/works with kids). So I always thought it’d be fun to pair them up, that’s basically it.

Okay now with that settled this is how I imagine the eras of their relationship:

Elementary school:

The two met in school as kids. Their relationship with one another at this point is really just Harold picking on Steve for dumb kid stuff. But as they get older it mostly becomes more targeted towards Steve’s femininity. Harolds bullying on this topic specifically is a big push into it becoming a major insecurity. It sticks with him for a long time even as an adult he’ll sometimes (rarely though) get a bit insecure about being effeminate. (An example of this could be in the episode “The Sorcerer”. Where we see the infamous “I am a man!” line from Mr Small. I love this clip so much so here it is ⬇️)

High school:

Similar to elementary school this bit of their relationship is also mostly just bullying. Though this time ramp the intensity 10 fold! Now it’s more than just bullying, it’s straight up abuse. Getting beat up and yelled at constantly and for very personal things too (*cough* being gay *cough*). Luckily for Steve though he has some friends that have his back and help whenever they can (Sal left thumb, Patrick Fitzgerald and Nicole Watterson to be specific). I’m a truther to the idea that Harold is bisexual as fuck but is so deep in the closet even he doesn’t know he’s in there.

University:

Now this is where things get messy. After graduating High school, Steve is excited to start his new University life! He got into a good school for psychology in the hopes of becoming someone who can help make change in people’s lives. Due to his direct family not living in Elmore and the fact that he’s old enough to live on his own at this point, Steve decides it would be best if he lived in a dorm. It’s cheaper than an appartement and it’s on the school campus. It’s perfect! And he’s very excited to start this new chapter of his life. Once he gets to his dorm he knocks on the door excited to meet his new roommate. And to his demise, Harold Wilson opens the door.

Basically this era the two have to deal with being roommates. Harold doesn’t seem to mind it in comparison to Steve who is absolutely mortified at the idea. Steve wants to give him a chance, they’re both adults now and he doesn’t want some stupid childhood rivalry to mess up this experience for him.

To Steve’s surprise, Harold seems to have mellowed out. He’s still arrogant and annoying but it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. He learned to live with it, and he did so peacefully. He didn’t mind it and it felt nice not having tension between each other.

It was like this for a while before Harold started becoming a bit touchy. It catches Steve off guard but he figures Harold is just becoming more comfortable with him so he doesn’t think much of it. Well he was right, Harold was becoming comfortable, very comfortable. Harold decided this was the perfect opportunity to experiment with himself. And I don’t really know how to write this smoothly but basically the two of them ended up becoming low maintenance zero commitment flings BAHAHAHA!

There is no romance involved in this. Steve does not like Harold in any romantic sense at all but he’s desperate and lonely and having someone anyone to at least pretend to fill that void was good enough for him. As for Harold, he’s really just experimenting, no feelings involved and definitely no feelings of guilt unlike Steve. I think after high school a lot of Steve’s friends and him drifted apart. He’s still friends with them but they don’t hang out nearly as much as they used to.

This relationship of theirs goes on for their first year of University. In the second year, Steve decides he’s not happy living like that and requests to switch roommates (which he does). After that he and Harold didn’t ever talk to each other other than class related things as they still shared classes. Once Steve manages to get his bachelors degree he leaves the school to do teacher’s college while Harold stays to get his PhD in psychology.

Post Uni/Work:

This era is the tamest their relationship has been. Their relationship at this point is professional as the majority of direct contact between them is Mr Small as the guidance councillor for Harold’s son. Other than that, the only interactions between them is occasionally bumping into each other in public by accident. Harold makes a few witty comments and that’s about it.

Wow! Okay that was a lot, but yeah, this is the sum of how I imagine their relationship is. I guess you could say this is apart of my Highschool/College Au? But the thing about that Au is that it’s just how I envisioned the past lives of literally everyone, it is doesn’t specifically revolve around just Mr Small or anything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#I really hope this was easy to understand #I’m not all that good at putting my thoughts into words #I think in comic form haha #tawog #the amazing world of gumball #mr small #steve small #harold wilson #ask

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loveesiren · 1 month ago

Text

Doing It All For Us (Pt.9)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: This chapter gets pretty fucked up but ends well! I hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Language, substance abuse (cocaine, alcohol), cigarettes, self-harm, suicide attempt, psychosis, mental health

Word Count: 5.7k+

You moved your food around your plate as you listened to Topper, Rafe and Kelce discuss baseball. You couldn't be bothered to eat.

Rafe knew you were craving drugs. He knew you too well. You couldn't hide it from him. So, of course, he became annoyingly overprotective. He didn't leave you on your own for long.

You didn't want to be at the club right now. You hadn't showered in four days. You were still in the same old t-shirt you borrowed from Courtney. Your hair sat in a messy bun on your head and you had no make up on. Thank God you had at least drowned yourself in your JC perfume.

Rafe dragged you to the club, forcing you to eat and socialize. But you didn't even try. You sat there, obviously unhappy, just bringing everyone else down.

Rafe ran his fingers over your leg and smiled at you. You attempted to smile back but it was just pitiful. Topper and Kelce were staring at you with worried looks.

"Baby-"

"I'm gonna go smoke." You said, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Do you want me to-"

"No!"

You walked across the street from the club and sat in the grass. Lighting up an American Spirit, you laid back and watched the clouds move above you.

"What's going on with her, dude?" Topper asked Rafe.

Rafe was on the verge of tears but he held them back. "I-I don't know. I mean, a lot is going on but she won't talk to me. She just sits in silence and barely eats..."

"Maybe Courtney could get through to her?" Kelce asked.

Rafe shakes his head. "She tried. Court says she's gone through this before. Told me not to leave her alone for too long." He said as he looked out the window. He noticed you weren't where you had been moments ago. He stood up quickly and walked outside. "Y/N!" He yelled as he looked around for you. You were gone.

Rafe ran back inside, panicking. "She's gone!" He told Topper and Kelce.

"What?" Topper asked as he stood up, throwing some money on the table.

Rafe ran his shaking hands through his hair as his eyes began to swell with tears once again. "We gotta find her, man!"

The boys ran outside and piled into Rafe's truck.

You heard the sound of a bike approaching you but you didn't turn to look. You just kept walking lazily down the side of the road, dragging your cigarette every now and then.

"Hey, Princess!" You hear Barry say as he pulls up next to you. You sigh and turn to look at him. "Where's Prince Charming, huh? Lettin' you walk all alone out here. Never know who might swoop you up!" He laughs.

You just stare at him, too tired to say anything back. You can feel the bags under your eyes. Your face felt heavy and your body was weak from malnourishment.

"Shit..." He says as he examines you. "You look like you need a fix, am I right, Princess?"

You nod.

"Hop on," He says. He doesn't even offer you his helmet but you don't care. You climb on the back of his bike and wrap your arms around his waist. He drives off towards his house.

You know Barry was a bad guy. He'd probably want to take you back to his place, get you high, try to get in your pants. But you just didn't care anymore. The voices in your head were eating you alive.

Worthless. They don't really love you. Burden.

The words play over and over again in your head as you watch the trees pass by.

"Here we are," Barry says, helping you off the bike. "Come on, I'll fix you up."

You follow Barry inside. You scanned his house, noticing the few people that laid lazily on his couch, obviously doped out of their minds.

"You ever freebased?" Barry asks as he sits down at the kitchen table, sprinkling coke over a piece of foil.

"Yeah." Your voice was weak. You sat down across from him as you watched him prepare the foily.

He slides it over to you with a tooter and a lighter. You bring the tooter to your lips and light the bottom of the foil. You inhale the smoke slowly, feeling an instant buzz.

Barry smiles as he watches you. "Damn, you go harder than Country Club!" He laughs. "I ain't ever seen no Kook Queens up in the trap house smoking foilies!"

"I'm from LA," You tell him, feeling a little more talkative now that your buzz was hitting.

You hand him the paraphernalia. "That's all you, Princess. Go crazy." He said, waving you off.

You chuckle, bringing the tooter back to your lips to smoke more. After a bit, you were on Cloud 9.

People began drifting in and out of Barry's house. He'd sell them drugs, talk to some girls, then come back and sit with you, continuing to fix you up with the makeshift crack.

"You wanna shot, Princess?" Barry asks as he taps your arm with a bottle of whiskey.

You take it from him and quickly chug as much as you can before you get back to making your foily. You were really feeling it now. You hadn't been this high in a long time.

"Ayo, Y/N!" Barry says, snapping his fingers in your face.

You snap up to look at him. "What?"

"Chill, girl! Have another shot, you need to relax."

You eyed him for a moment as your nose twitched, but you took the bottle and chugged more.

"You really love that kid?" Barry asked you.

"What do you mean?"

"Rafe," He said. "You was bout ready to kill me for his ass!" Barry chuckled.

Rafe. Rafe. The love of your life. The only person that made you feel at home. You had left him at the club. You looked around now, realizing it was dark out and Barry's house was full of people getting high as fuck. Music was blasting way louder than you realized and you could feel your anxiety start to rise.

You snap out of your trance and look back to Barry. "Yeah. I do." You said confidently.

Barry smiles. "You know, for a Kook, you're not half bad. Country Club's a lucky man."

You look up at him with your devil eyes. The one's that came out after you'd drown yourself in substances. The eyes that showed who you truly were under your make up and jewelry. The psychopath.

Barry eyed you for a moment, looking almost scared. You offer him a small smile, hoping to convey that you were fine but knowing deep down you probably looked crazy.

Barry offered you a bill to snort one of the lines he just poured out. You accepted and leaned over the table, railing the white powder quickly.

"Well aren't you a sight," You hear a raspy voice say from behind you.

You turn around to see an older man, probably your dad's age. But he looked even older. Years of alcohol and drugs taking a toll on him.

You scrunch your nose up at him as he steps towards you and places a hand on your hip.

"Back up, Luke." Barry said, pushing him away from you.

"Ah, keepin' her all to yourself?"

"That's Cameron's girl." Barry states, keeping you behind him.

"Well I don't see that little shit around!" Luke laughs an intoxicated laugh.

You could feel anxiety rise in your chest. You didn't want to be here anymore. You wanted Rafe. You wanted to go home. You didn't want to be this fucking high anymore.

Barry turned around as he noticed you hyperventilating. "Ah, fuck." He said. He grabbed the whiskey off the table and put his arm around you. He pushed Luke out of the way as he lead you back to his bedroom.

You felt yourself pulled back as Luke grabbed your hand. "Get off me!" You yelp.

Barry turns around and punches Luke in the temple causing him to instantly fall to the ground. "Don't fucking touch her!" He turns and ushers you back to his bedroom.

You were a weeping mess now. Crying and hyperventilating. Barry closed the door behind him and you coward away from him, nervous he was going to do something.

He holds his hands up in defense. "Hey, Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you okay?" He says. "Sit."

You sit down on the edge of his bed and pull your knees to your chest.

"Hear, drink this. It will calm you down."

You take the whiskey from his hand and chug. Too much crack. You were scared and paranoid. You didn't have your phone or anything. You were stuck in the middle of this party out in the Cut high off your ass and you hadn't talked to Rafe in hours.

"R-Rafe." You stutter.

"Hey, just relax, okay? I'mma call him right now."

You nod your head quickly, taking another swig from the bottle.

Barry paces his small room as he dials Rafe's number. Your eyes flicker back and forth as the voices in your head come back. You put your hands over your ears and shake your head, trying to get them to stop.

You're too high. You're going to die.

"Ayo, Rafe! You need to come get your girl, man!" Barry's voice echos in the background.

The voices became too much and you start screaming.

"Shit, shit! Yo, she's freaking out! Come get her!"

You were practically ripping your hair out.

"Y/N! Stop!" Barry yelled, grabbing your hands and keeping them by your sides.

You continued to thrash around on the bed, shaking your head back and forth violently. You let out another scream.

"Rafe's coming! He's on his way!" Barry yells at you.

You ease up slightly at the sound of Rafe's name but you were still terrified and you didn't know why.

"Listen to me, it's just the drugs okay? You smoked too much. You're okay. I promise." Barry said, trying to calm you down. "Look at me!"

You try to focus your eyes but you couldn't help but shake.

"You're good," Barry reassured you.

You nodded nervously. Barry let go of you and you remained somewhat still on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, there was knocking on the door.

"Barry!" Rafe banged on the door. Barry opened it and Rafe, Courtney, Kelce, and Topper piled into the room.

"Y/N!" Rafe screamed as he ran to your shaking body on the bed.

"Take me home!" You cry as you throw your body around him. "I don't want to be here."

Rafe held you tighter than he ever had before.

"What the hell did you give her?!" Courtney yelled at Barry.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Courtney slapped him, cutting him off from his sentence.

Barry nodded, knowing he deserved it. "She freebased a bunch of coke, man. Just get her home."

Rafe wanted to strangle him, but you were more important. He had one arm around your waist and one cradling your head as he pushed past Barry and out to the living room.

"The Kooks are here!" People start saying as Rafe carried you through the sea of junkies that invaded the trailer.

"Fuck off!" You could hear Courtney, Topper, and Kelce telling people to back off. These weren't even Pogues. They were lower. This house was disgusting and you just wanted to leave.

You knew Rafe was probably furious with you. But he still came for you. You clung to him so tightly as you shook in his arms.

"I got you, baby." He said. His voice was so soft and it calmed you down. "Top, drive." Rafe said, throwing him the keys to the truck.

Rafe pulled you into the back seat with him, Courtney climbing in after.

Rafe placed you in his lap, he forced you to look at him. "Baby girl, you're safe, okay?"

All you could do was sob. Fear taking over your body. "The end," You spit out between sobs.

Rafe holds your face between his hands. "The end? What end, sweetheart?"

He'd never seen you cry so much. Your entire face was bright red and moist from tears. Everyone else in the car was silent as Topper drove.

"My end!" You sob loudly.

Rafe is just staring at you with a puzzled look on his face, tears spilling from his eyes. "Baby, what are you talking about?!"

You quickly grabbed the door handle, swinging it open as you tried to jump out.

"Y/N!" Courtney yelled.

Rafe had his hands around your waist and Courtney grabbed your wrist pulling you back in.

Topper swerved at the sudden commotion but quickly regained control. "Dude, what the fuck!?" He yelled from the driver's seat.

You started screaming again and tugging at your hair again.

"What is wrong with her?!" Kelce yelled.

"Psychosis!" Courtney replied, pinning your hands down. She got on top of you, straddling your lap. "Rafe, hold her still!"

Rafe did as he was told, bawling his eyes out. He'd never seen anything like this in his life.

Courtney decked you as hard as she could in the side of the head and you went unconscious.

"What the fuck!" The boys yelled.

Courtney sat back, letting you rest in Rafe's lap. "Drive," She says.

The car ride was silent besides Rafe's sobs as he cradled your head.

When Topper pulled up to your house, Rafe carried you inside, immediately going to your room and tucking you into bed.

He sat and stared at you, his tears never letting up.

You stirred slightly but leaned deeper into your pillow.

"I need to talk to you," Courtney said from the door.

Rafe looked up to meet her gaze. He nodded. He looked back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead before joining Courtney in the hallway.

Courtney pulled Rafe down stairs to where Topper and Kelce were.

"What the hell is going on?" Kelce asks.

Courtney sighs. "Psychosis. She has episodes when she's really depressed."

———-

You tumbled out of bed and grabbed the knife from you bedside table. You crawled toward your bathroom and locked the door.

Rafe was surely mad at you for going to Barry's and getting fucked up. All your friends were probably about done with you. Your dad was gone. Fuck it right?

You took a small post it note from your counter and wrote out a few simple words. I love you, Rafe.

You stuck it to the counter and sat down.

They are better off without you. Kill yourself. Bleed.

The voices made you cry. You didn't want to leave Rafe but what if they were right? Maybe he was better off without you.

You put the knife to your wrist, tears falling down your cheeks. You force yourself to smile and slice the knife quickly across you skin, far too deep.

———-

"I'm gonna go check on her." Courtney said.

She had explained to the boys what exactly was happening to you. You were spiraling into a deep depression. But not like most people experience. Hallucinations, anxiety, the comatose states. It was taking over your body. You were in a very fragile state and the drugs didn't help.

"RAFE!" Courtney screamed.

Rafe got up immediately and ran upstairs, Topper and Kelce not far behind him.

"She locked herself in the bathroom!" Courtney cried.

Rafe didn't waste any time as he threw his shoulder into the door.

"Y/N!" He screamed, finally kicking the door in. He saw you motionless body on the floor, blood draining from your wrist.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!" Rafe repeated as he ran to your side. "Call 911!" He screamed as he ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around your wrist.

Courtney was frozen, tears falling from her eyes as she watched you bleed out. She couldn't help but remember the time you'd tried to do the exact same thing in her bathroom at nine years old.

Kelce caught Courtney as she collapsed. Sobbing over the fact she could never make you happy enough to stay on this earth.

Topper was level headed. He called 911. He explained everything that happened.

Rafe was hysterical when the paramedics arrived. They had to pull him away from you.

He climbed into the ambulance with you. There was no way he wouldn't be with you this time.

"Stay with me, baby, please, please, stay with me. I love you so so much." Rafe said as he held your hand.

"You her boyfriend?" The paramedic asked.

Rafe nodded, keeping his eyes on you. "Why couldn't I help her?"

Rafe's eyes scanned your body. You were pale and thin. Your hair was matted and you had circles under your eyes. He couldn't help but blame himself for not taking care of you.

"It's not your fault, kid." The paramedic said.

Rafe pressed his lips to your frail hand, praying for the first time in his life. He asked whatever God was listening to help him build a life you would want to be a part of. He just wanted to know what to do. What he could do to make you happy.

Rafe sat and watched as they once again hooked you up to machines. His angel, his baby girl, his goddess. He would never understand why she wanted to destroy herself.

As frail as you were, you were still vibrant in his eyes. And maybe that's why he hated himself. He thought you were were perfect every time he laid eyes on you. He couldn't see your bones pertruding or your hair falling out or the loss of your voice. Any state you were in, he was completely in love with you.

————–

You opened your eyes, taking in the blinding white walls of the room around you. The fluorescent lighting burned your retina's as you reached up to shield yourself from them. That's when you noticed the pain in your left wrist.

"Ow, fuck!" You examined the white bandage that was wrapped around your forearm. A deep red leaking through the cloth. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. You don't remember what happened or how you got here but judging by the placements of your wound, you knew you had done it to yourself.

"Shiiiit," You mutter as you sit up and scan the room. There was a doorless bathroom in the corner, a small desk in the other. You were on a small twin sized mattress that lay atop a metal bed frame. The small window was covered in bars, letting in little sunlight. This wasn't the first time you'd been in a room like this.

"No, no, no, no..." You said as you got off the bed and rushed to the large metal door. You looked out the small window for any sign of someone. "Hey!" You start yelling, banging your fists against the door, completely ignoring the searing pain in your wrist. "Hey, let me the fuck out of here!" You continue banging and kicking the door until someone finally opens it.

You step back as you watch two people enter. One woman in a lab coat, dark hair pulled back, glasses, clutching a clip board. The other, a man, in blue scrubs.

"How are you feeling, Miss Y/L/N?" The lady asks.

"Why am I here?" You ask, staring angrily at her. "Where's Rafe?"

She takes a step forward and you take a step back. "You are here, Miss Y/L/N, because you experienced a deep state of psychosis and tried to take your own life."

Psychosis. You hadn't had an episode since you were a kid. It only ever happened when you got severely depressed.

"You also had a large amount of cocaine and alcohol in your system. You became a danger to yourself and others. After you were treated at the hospital," She motions to your wrist and you bring it behind your back, hiding it. "You were brought here for treatment.

You scoff. "I don't need treatment. I just had an episode. I need to go home. I need to see Rafe!"

"You have been placed on a mandatory 72 hour hold."

"How long have I been here?"

"Six hours."

"Fuck that! Let me out, I'm not fucking staying here!"

The larger nurse steps towards you.

"If you literally step any closer I will fight you!" You spit at him.

"Y/N, we need you to try to calm down. This stress isn't good for you or your child."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I don't have-" You stop, swallowing your words.

"You are pregnant, Miss Y/L/N."

Your eyes fall to the floor as you try to take in the words you just heard. You slowly turn and walk back to the bed, sitting down calmly.

Pregnant. Pregnant. The word repeated itself in your mind.

"Are you okay?"

You scrunched your face and waved them off, laying down on the bed and pulling your knees to your chest.

"Visiting hours are four to six. Mr. Cameron will be waiting to see you."

You don't respond, burying your face into the pillow and letting the tears fall silently from your eyes.

____________

The clock struck four and you were already sitting up, waiting for nurse to come retrieve you. You'd been thinking for the last few hours about everything. Whether or not you were going to tell Rafe. You had no clue how Rafe was feeling. You'd just tried to end your life. You also got high as fuck. You wouldn't blame him if he wanted to leave you.

You traced the RC that was scarred in your skin and silently prayed he would forgive you. Your other hand traced your stomach. You didn't want to die. You wanted to be with Rafe. You wanted your baby. You wanted to be normal and be happy for your family.

You heard the door click open and you jumped. "You have a visitor," The nurse said, holding the door open so he could escort you to the visiting room.

You walked slowly, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. Courtney must have packed your bag. A few pairs of sweats, tank tops, and sweaters. All things the hospital would accept. She remembered what you could and couldn't have in here.

You enter the cafeteria, scanning the room and seeing people sitting with their loved ones. Your eyes landed on Rafe and you breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours. He slowly stood from his seat, scanning over your body as he tried to accept the fact you were in here.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you ran to him and jumped in his arms. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and you could feel him sniffling into your hair.

"Hey baby girl!" He mumbled, letting his own tears flow. He gripped you for dear life, as if he were to let go you'd simply evaporate.

"Rafe, I don't remember anything." You whisper.

You could feel Rafe try to control his breathing. He obviously remembers everything.

"Sit down, baby." He says, releasing his grip on you and helping your weak body into the chair. He sits next to you, taking your hands in his.

He choked back tears as he felt how frail you were.

The expression on his face broke your heart. Knowing it was your fault he was in so much pain. "Rafe....I'm so sorry..."

He shook his head. "No, baby, no. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I didn't take care of you."

"Rafe, baby, what are you talking about?" You lean forward, tilting his chin up to look at you. "All you do is take care of me. This isn't your fault."

"I just-" He begins, trying to take in a deep breath. "I just want to make you happy. I want to build a life that you will be happy with."

"You make me so happy, Rafe. My head just isn't right. But I'm gonna get it right. For you. For us. For-" You stop yourself. "For us." You repeat.

You hated yourself right now. The way tears spilled out from his beautiful blue eyes. You can't believe you put him through this.

You force yourself to smile. You didn't want to be here. You had absolutely no idea what to do about the news you were pregnant. But if being here could potentially get you some help, you were willing to do so. For him. For your baby.

You climb into his lap, wrapping your fragile arms around his neck. He brings his arms up, wrapping around your waist. His wrist rested on your hip bone, noticing how thin you were under your sweater.

"Did you eat today, baby?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head. "No, but I'll have dinner after this." You promise. Knowing you have to eat for two even though the thought of food made you sick.

You pull back from him slightly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Rafe sighs, the memory of the night prior causing him extreme anxiety, but he nodded his head.

A look of disgust sat on your face as Rafe finished telling you what happened. You were so upset with yourself. You could have reached out for help but you decided to fuck up instead. As you always do. Always afraid of asking for help and just getting high and trying to end it all instead. Even when you were with the love of your life.

"5 minutes," A nurse said as he walked past you.

You and Rafe both ignored him.

"Rafe..." You began, tangling your fingers with is. "I'm going to get better okay?" He was hesitant and you didn't blame him. Rafe was a coke head, yes, but he had never seen this side of addiction. "I'm going to talk with the doctor tonight. Talk about meds and therapy and all that shit. Just please...please don't give up on me."

His eyes shot up to meet yours, almost offended by your words. "I would never leave you."

That's when you realized how fucking shitty you were. Rafe was a coke head. But he stopped for you. He took care of you when you overdosed. When you tried to end your life. He was completely addicted to you. Drugs couldn't compare. He'd do anything just to have you but here you were, running off to the trap to get high and landing yourself in a mental institution.

The nurses announced that visiting hours were over and your stomach dropped. You weren't ready to spend the night without Rafe.

"I'll be back tomorrow," He promises. "I love you more than anything, angel." He said as he pulled you into him and pressed kisses to your head.

"Can you bring Courtney tomorrow?" You ask.

Rafe's face falls. "Uhm..."

"What is it?"

Rafe sighs. "Courtney is, uhmm...she's upset."

You look down. Courtney had been subjected to this before. You couldn't blame her.

"I'll talk to her, okay?" He says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. You just nod in agreement and he presses a kiss to your lips.

You want to savor the moment forever but it's cut short by the nurses ushering you all back to your rooms. You turn to look at Rafe one more time. He attempts a smile but you can still see the pain on his face.

Once you are back in your room you let it all out. You sobbed loudly as you thought about your actions, how much pain Rafe was in, how Courtney was hurting, how you had a tiny human growing inside you. It was all so overwhelming.

A nurse knocked on your door and you quickly wiped away your tears. "Dinner?"

You offer a smile, walking over and taking the tray of food from him. "Thank you."

You go back to your bed and pick at the food on your plate. It looked disgusting but you knew you needed to eat. You rubbed your belly, knowing the little life you and Rafe created was growing inside you. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone.

_________

You stayed calm the next few days. You saw the doctor and she prescribed you some antidepressants, ones that wouldn't hurt the baby, you made sure.

She voted against the anti-psychotics, since it didn't seem to be a prominent thing. You knew this last episode was fueled by depression, alcohol, and far too much cocaine.

Rafe visited you every day. You still hadn't told him. You couldn't, not like this. You told him how hard you were trying to get better, and he could see your change in behavior. Being completely sober seemed to improve your mood so much.

After Rafe left on day three, you headed straight to speak with your therapist.

"Hey," You said as your plopped down on the couch in her office.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?" She asks with a smile.

"I'm good," You say, biting your lip and blushing. "Just saw Rafe. I can't wait to get out of here and be with him again." You throw your head back, smiling like an idiot.

She chuckles. "Will he be the one picking you up tomorrow?"

"Yep!"

"Have you told him?" She asked, motioning to your stomach.

You smile and place your hand on your belly. "Not yet. I want it to be special. I don't want to tell him while I'm locked up in here. He'll go nuts. He's a very hands on type of person."

She nods. "How are you feeling about your sobriety plan?"

"I can do it. For Rafe and for our baby. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"Him?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

You smile. "Yeah. I've been having dreams the last few nights. It's a boy."

Your therapist humors you. Getting through the rest of your session, she makes sure you're all set up with your medication, contact info for any help you may need, and goes over the plan you two worked out for getting back on your feet.

In all honestly, you didn't care. Yes, you were going to take your meds. Yes you were going to stay sober. But you just wanted to get home. You wanted to be with Rafe.

________

You woke up the next morning with a smile. You threw on a clean pair of sweats and a tank top. You tossed your beach waves into a high ponytail. You couldn't help but smile in your tiny bathroom mirror. Rafe would be here soon and you'd get to go home.

All you wanted was to get some McDonald's, go home, make love, and watch movies with the love of your life. You were determined to prioritize your happiness so you could be a good girlfriend and a good mother.

You sat on your bed, clutching your duffle bag. You couldn't help but smile as you tried to be patient for the nurse.

Finally, he came to retrieve you. "Ready to go, Miss Y/L/N?"

You jumped up from your bed and walked out the door. "Yep!"

You walked with confidence, feeling like your old self again. You clutched your bag to your shoulder, running your thumb over the RC on your chest. You couldn't help but smile. Things were going to be good now.

The nurse escorts you out to the lobby, and to no surprise, your blue-eyed, 6'4" boy was waiting for you. You dropped your bag and jumped into his arms.

"Hey baby!"

"Pretty girl," He whispered into your neck. "I've missed you so much."

You enjoyed his embrace for a moment before he set you down and picked up your bag. "You ready to go?"

"Fuck yes!" You say excitedly.

Rafe laces his fingers through yours, trying his best to ignore the bandage on your wrist.

He walks you out to his truck and helps you into the passenger seat. "You hungry?" He asks.

"Mickey D's!" You yell excitedly. Your meds were doing a great job of bringing your mood up.

Rafe chuckles. "As you wish, angel." He closes your door and runs around the truck to hop in the drivers side.

Rafe pulls into the drive thru, ordering you nuggets and fries and a McFlurry, of course. He orders himself some food too and he parks in the parking lot.

The two of you giggle, throwing fries at eachother and sharing food. Just enjoying the moment on this beautiful sunny day.

"So I'm guessing you're ready for a horror movie marathon?" Rafe asks as he drives back to Figure Eight.

"Most definitely!" You tell him. "But...can we stop by Courtney's real quick?"

Rafe bites his lip at your request, but he nods.

Courtney had barely talked to the boys in days. She was traumatized. It was the second time she'd seen you try to take your life. She did everything in her power to make you happy and it was never enough. It wasn't her fault, of course, but she couldn't help but feel like it was.

Rafe pulls into Courtney's driveway. He's about to get out of the truck but you stop him. "Just, give me a minute. Please." You tell him. He's reluctant but he nods.

You hop out of the truck and head towards the front door. You take a deep breath before ringing the door bell.

Helena answers, taking in the sight of you. She held back tears as she pulled you into her arms. She didn't say anything. Just held you tight and rubbed your back before nodding towards the basement.

You offer her a smile and head downstairs. You could hear a movie playing loudly. You turned the corner to the theater room, seeing Courtney spread out on the couch. A plethora of soda cans and snack wrappers littering the table in front of her.

"Court?" You say softly. Almost hoping she doesn't hear you. But she does. Her head snaps to you, but she doesn't move to get up.

She reaches for the remote and pauses her movie. "Hey," She finally says. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm, uhm...I'm good." You told her. "How are you?"

She snorts at your question. "Living the dream."

"Courtney, I'm so sorry-"

"Why'd you do it?"

"I-I don't remember doing it. It was a mistake."

"So I'm supposed to forgive you and just wait for you to do it again?" She scoffs.

Her words hurt, but they are valid. "I'm totally sober now, Court. And I'm on meds. I'm really trying to sort my shit out."

"What's gonna keep you sober? Rafe obviously isn't good enough. You should have seen him after they took you to the nuthouse. He was a fucking wreck. I've never seen a grown man cry like that!" She's standing now, yelling at you.

Your face twitches but you bite back tears. "I know. But it's different now."

"How's it different, Y/N?! Please, enlighten me!"

"I'm pregnant!" You say, standing up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes widen, trying to find the words to say.

"Rafe doesn't know yet." You add.

Courtney's lip quivers. She couldn't be mad at you. As much as you hurt her, she loved you more than anything.

She pulls you to her, hugging you tightly. You hug her back as she rocks you back and forth.

You hold each other for a solid five minutes. She pulls back, taking your face between her hands. "You're gonna be such a good mama." She tells you with a smile. And she meant it. As fucked up as you were, you were loyal, and you put the people you loved first.

You beam up at her. She leans down and presses kiss to your lips. "Don't you ever do that shit again," She scolds when she pulls back.

"I promise, Court."

She smiles. "Go, tell Rafe."

You smile back at her. "I'll text you. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiles.

You run upstairs and out the front door, quickly hopping into Rafe's truck.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

You smile. "Everything is perfect. Can we go back to my place? Watch movies, order food, and maybe take a bath?" You ask.

"That sounds perfect, baby girl." He says, leaning over and kissing you.

You bite your lip and look out the window, excited about your future for once in your life.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron obx #obx fandom #obx fanfiction #obx fic #euphoria aesthetic #euphoria #maddy perez #drew starkey #alexa demie

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moments-on-film · 6 months ago

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Moments on Film: The Bear Season 3

Now that I have had a few days to process and fully…..digest S3, I am back with my most visceral thoughts.

I must say, distance did not do anything to ameliorate how I felt about this season. There were some beautiful moments, I really enjoyed episode 1, for example, and I truly appreciated the opportunity to learn more about how Sydney comports herself as a leader, Marcus‘s beautifully inspired and fresh creativity as a chef, Tina’s journey, Natalie’s inner struggles, and more backstory on chef Luca.

What I am having so much trouble with this season, is Carmy. I knew this would happen. I knew S3 would be the belly of the beast, as I predicted 🔗 here , but it was still so hard to take in.

Those of you that have read my work know how much empathy I have felt for Carmy. I have rooted for him. I see how much help he desperately needs and I am always hoping he will find a way to course correct when he gets off track. Carmy ditching Sydney in S2 and lashing out at Richie in the finale felt like a punch to my gut. I was so hoping those two relationships would be nurtured this season but in fact they got worse.

I want to be clear, I have had so much compassion and empathy for Carmy and his emotional problems, due to the cycles of abuse he has had to endure. What I absolutely cannot excuse or reconcile this season is how his behavior and actions are hurting, stifling, and traumatizing those around him.

Another thing I really want to uplift is that yes, this is a show that emphasizes found family. But at the end of the day, this is a business, he is in a leadership position, and everyone who works there is an at-will-employee. In my opinion, Carmy has completely failed as a leader, on all fronts. He has never exhibited leadership skills, with consistency. And as supportive member of the “family”, real or otherwise, he is nowhere to be found. Carmy has actually created a hostile work environment that is legally actionable and litigious with his mood swings, verbal and physical abuse and erratic behavior.

It is a stone cold fact.

I was rooting so hard for Sydney and staff to walk out the door this season. That’s how bad his behavior is. Sydney deserves better, plain and simple. Everyone working at The Bear does. Another point I want to uplift is that while Christopher Storer created the show, it is his sister, Courtney, “Coco” Storer who is the chef on whom he based much of the plot. Courtney has also moved from Culinary Producer in seasons past of The Bear to Co-Executive Producer and even “Story By” credit on this season of the show.

There is something Courtney said a few years ago on a podcast that has stayed in the back of my mind because I always wondered if it would be used as a plot point for Sydney. She shared a story of a restaurant she worked at in Los Angeles. She was promoted to CDC, loved her team and really enjoyed working there. However, it was not all perfect. She was constantly burnt out and at a physical and emotional deficit due to the stress. She suffered panic attacks. She also shared that she was not officially a partner with a stake in the restaurant, and she felt like she needed to have her own back because at the end of the day, no one else did. Although it was a difficult life decision—-she quit.

Forget Michelin stars. If Carmy cannot create and maintain an environment people want to work in, with him, he will end up completely alone. It also may already be too late.

I understand this season is apparently in two parts, I understand that everything happens for a reason. What I can’t understand is how I am meant to root for a character that has contributed to Sydney having panic attacks, has hit Richie, has yelled at Marcus during what must be the worst time in his life and who was about to lose it on Tina if Sydney hadn’t stepped in, saved her, and saved him from himself. Completely unacceptable behavior.

Carmy needs professional help. I have said this many, many times before and I am going to say it again. Carmy. Needs. Professional. Help. He cannot continue to let his triggers and emotions be his master. He is in a leadership position and people’s jobs are depending on him. He cannot offer any more hollow apologies, he has to back them up with consistent action, or I will continue rooting for the staff to leave or for him to step down.

If he doesn’t make the time, energy, and effort to stop the madness, slow down, take a beat, remember all of the gentle and beautiful mentorship he actually did receive through his rise as a chef, lead with his heart, build trust and repair his relationships, especially with Sydney, with Richie, with his sister and her new baby, he will lose it all, because he will have lost the one thing that truly matters, the people he is supposed to care about and the people who care about him.

Does he have it in him to turn this all around? At this point I am not sure. And if he doesn’t, I believe what “grows together”, and they really did, all grow—-will in fact, go together.

©️moments-on-film 2024

#the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #syd adamu #marcus the bear #richie jerimovich #tina the bear #natalie berzatto #chef luca #the bear hulu #my thoughts

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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Hey! Could I request Cassian saying to reader “who did this to you?” Maybe Devlon or someone hit her and Cassian goes feral, a bit more on the dark side. 😊

Protector

Cassian x reader

A/n: one of my fav tropes with one of my fav boys 😋

Warnings: injuries, abuse, violence

Not wanting to give the camp anything to talk about you headed straight to Rhys’s house. Slamming the door shut you waited for Cassian and the others on the couch, cradling your mangled arm to your chest.

Your brother, Bade, has been your biggest bully all your life. He constantly used you as his personal punching bag. Usually it wasn’t too bad, a few bruises here, some cuts and scrapes there. This time he had taken things too far leaving you with a fractured wrist and some other broken bone in your arm, a black eye, and a nasty cut running through your eyebrow.

Your parents never did anything about it. Your mother and father always just saying “males will be males” and treating Bade like the golden child. You had had enough though. Today had shown you that Bade would never stop and the people who were supposed to love and protect you unconditionally weren’t going to make it stop.

You have no idea where you’d go but at least you still have your wings. They probably thought Bade hurt them so bad it was pointless to clip them. Another thing your parents were wrong about.

Cassian comes home first. He kicks the snow off his boots before looking at you. His rugged face changing from excitement from seeing you to concern and anger. Rushing over to you Cassian gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He tilts your face side to side. The frustration rolling off him in waves.

“Who did this to you?” He grits out. “My brother.” You said with slight hesitation. A sick part of you wanted to protect him, that small voice in the back of your mind saying he’s family. Cassian knelt between your legs rubbing your thighs lightly.

Cassian calls out to Rhys to bring a healer home in his mind. In that moment he was making a plan to get you to Velaris and out of this gods forsaken camp.

“He’s never going to hurt you again sweetheart, I promise.” You gently kiss his forehead and give him a sad smile. “Thank you my love.” The two of you wince as the burn of a bargain tattoo stings the inside of your wrists. Looking down you see the black ink formed a pair of wings in flight for the freedom your mate has promised you.

You stay with him that night, not wanting to return home to your fathers wrath for running off. You’ve always felt safe with Cassian. Even before the bond snapped you were always attached to each other. As you snuggled into his chest and drifted off to sleep you dreamt of a future with Cassian. Where you’re happy and surrounded by friends and family.

The next morning Cassian slips out of bed before you can wake up. Even though the camp healer mended all your injuries you still need rest. He kisses your forehead after getting dressed.

Shutting the door to the house his face turned to stone. Pure wrath swimming in his eyes. Cassian is on a war path. His goal; end your brother.

“Bade! You’re against Cassian. Get in the ring!” The commander yelled. Bade visibly paled at the sight of Cassian flexing and cracking his knuckles. Rhys and Azriel stand behind Cassian wearing matching stoic faces.

“Don’t go easy Cass. Y/n’s father needs to be taken down a few pegs anyway.” Rhys said in his mind. “There won’t be anything of this fucker left after I’m done.”

Stepping in the ring the males put up their fists and began circling each other. Cassian didn’t give Bade a chance to get a hit in. He immediately pounced on your brother, hitting him with a right hook. Then a blow to his stomach, then ribs.

Bade stumbled back, his face drenched in blood. The commander didn’t stop Cassian. Letting the beating continue. Cassian continued his assault until Bade was flat on his back on the cusp of consciousness. Cassian lowered himself on his haunches, gripping Bade’s blood soaked face in his large hand.

“You will never lay another hand on her. Or any female. Ever. Again. If I hear you are I’m going to kill you.” Cassian shoved his head into the ground so hard Bade passed out.

Getting up, he strode over to his brothers, wiping off his knuckles.

Tonight. Tonight he’d take you to Velaris. You’d live in the House of Wind and Mor would keep you company. You’d be part of the family. And most importantly, you’d be free.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian

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plscallmeeren · 8 months ago

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S A F E W I T H M E

Severus Snape x Reader

Request: yep @NurYgmmr

Summary: yandere snape (established relationship) but also u r a death eater living at Malfoy Manor. Just a Drabble, hope u enjoy :) btw apologize for the text being in weird placed my phone's fucked up at the moment

Warnings: Swearing; possessiveness; cruciatus curse; mentions of Death Eater activity lol

Word Count: 1.3K+

Severus Snape was not a bad man. He was not cruel, generally, or sadistic, mostly, nor was he prone to abuse, unless it was expected of him.

In other words - he could be a bad man.

But that wasn't what you liked to think. Really, you were very reluctant to accept the gravity of his propensity for mistreatment. Not that you were innocent.

It seemed Malfoy Manor was a haunted house - a building, not a home - that encouraged the very worst in every inhabitant, temporary or rooted. You extended your excuses to your topical residence.

There were other monsters living there. But there were also the candid, even there.

•••

Severus Snape tapped his fingers against his thigh to no apparent rhythm. His concentration had never been so hard to keep on a meeting, especially with Nagini hissing every now and then.

But you were still on your mission.

"It was you, wasn't it, Snape? Who said the boy would be moving at that time?" Dolohov called out loudly from the other end of the table. "Where'd you pick it up?"

"It was the original plan," he seethed, glaring.

"Right. Was it the original plan to become the ministry's own little spy-"

"You know I have had no contact since I murdered Dumbledore-"

"Enough!" Narcissa yelled, looking startled at her own outburst. "We all trust in the Dark Lord. Accusations and mistrust are his privilege, only. If we must discuss, why not concerning you, Dolohov? Why have you not been invited to accompany the Lord on his mission to kill the boy? Surely you wanted to?"

Severus could think of nothing but the fight you had had before you left. It was stupid, he knew, but everything felt ten times as intense when he was around you. Even when he wasn't, if he was being honest.

Dolohov sneered. Everyone had heard his pathetic begging in the halls. "Well?" Severus pushed, at least directing his general irritation at someone who was set on troubling him.

"The Dark Lord believes...," he murmured, "that I have been behaving rashly lately."

"I can't believe you, Sev'. We were talking. What about that could possibly make you jealous?"

"I'm not jealous! It's just that when two people who are fundamentally attractive are in a room together, 'talking'-"

"For fuck's sake! I'm about to go on a mission and this is what you wanna talk about? This? It's ridiculous, honey!" The pet name is obviously mocking, which makes it sting even more. He just wanted to... what did he want...? He didn't really believe you'd betray him, but maybe the other guy... Lucius..."

"He's a married man! He's married and I'm not interested and he's kinda my friend! That bloke's not interested in me, and I'd be careful, because your interest in becoming obsessive!"

You stormed out, slamming the door. He fell to his knees, head in his hands. What had he done?

"Really? What did you-"

Severus could hear the heavy doors swinging open from afar and jumped up, abandoning every thought of rash Death Eaters. He almost tripped twice running down stairs and over elaborate carpets, but eventually he made it to the door, where Bellatrix was groaning theatrically.

"The Potter boy?" he asked breathlessly, though his eyes didn't stop scanning the entry for you and he really couldn't care at that moment. All those years he had waisted looking after Harry, just for Lily Evans! Of course he had loved her, probably he still did, but what nonsense had the old man tricked him with, saying that it mattered what she had died for? She was gone, she was gone, she was gone.

He had learned to live with that, as long as you weren't.

Just as he could feel the last ounce of calm diverge from his brain, just as the Dark Lord said Potter had survived but some of theirs hadn't...

There you were. Disheveled and tired, but still, there you were.

"Sev," you whispered, wrapping an arm around him as half a hug. "We failed. But just the battle, not the war, I hope." You seemed to have forgotten about the fight, and he couldn't be more glad.

"Go to bed," he pleaded, though he knew you wouldn't. He tried to inconspicuously place his hands on some parts of your body, trying to see if you were hurt.

"I'm fine," you said curtly, answering both his worries. "You're probably more brought up about this than I am."

"Hurry up, bloody lovebirds," Bellatrix hissed from ahead, only turning when you nodded at her wearily. Severus had never understood how you could be so close to such a maniac. Then again, how far from a maniac was he?

"C'mon."

The Dark Lord seethed at the head of the table, scaring everyone into silence with his own. "We lost, today," he said finally, keeping a dangerously firm grip on Nagini. "We did not capture, or hurt, or kill the boy. Harry..."

Severus looked at you. "Kill anybody?" he murmured, hoping for the insurance that you were 'helpful'.

"No, but I did blast one of the Weasley boys' ears off... your curse, actually, that Sectumsempra one..."

"And you!" Voldemort cried, pointing his wand - or Lucius', rather - at you. "You had an opening! You saw the owl, you knew it was him, you were so close... could have knocked him off his broom..."

"I didn't want to accidentally kill him," you replied honestly, but before you could finish speaking, you toppled over the back of your chair, writhing in agony.

Severus sprang up, casting desperate glanced from you to the Dark Lord and back again. You were in pain, pain, pain, he had to do something, something...

You groaned through clenched teeth, rolling and tossing on the ground. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so badly. Why was this happening? Where were you...?

"For Merlyn's sake!" Severus cried, and the curse stopped.

He paused as you lay there, limp. What would the Dark Lord do now? Torture him instead? Torture you more?

"Take her to her room," he commanded, and in seconds Severus had scooped you up, carrying you away as fast as he could.

"Put me down," you muttered halfway up the steps, determined to regain some dignity.

"No."

"Sev," you growled, and he reluctantly obeyed, only lending you some support. He pushed open the door to your room, shutting it hastily.

You collapsed on the bed, gesturing for him to join you. "Relax, darling. He wouldn't let us go just to tease. I don't think. C'mon, lie down."

He did, slowly melting into the dark covers as you ran your fingers along his side. "I'm so scared," he admitted quietly, and you listened.

"Every time you're on a mission or he talks to you alone, anything... I just imagine life without you and I can't-"

"I'm not going to die," you stated, "but if I did - I won't - then you would be fine, anyway. There is no one I trust as much as you to find something to hold onto, okay? But it doesn't matter, because I'm here. I've survived plenty of torture already. I've survived countless missions already. We're on the mighty side of history. I'm here. I'm yours. Okay? Just like you're not allowed to die for me, okay?"

"Right," he breathed, hands still shaking. "Right."

"C'm'ere. You're safe with me. We're both safe, okay? For now, at least. Come on." He leaned into your touch, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. This is what he fought for, everyday.

"I forgive you," you said quietly. He felt like crying.

"I love you," he said for the first time, and though he didn't miss the way you tensed beneath him, he smiled.

"I love you, too, Sev'."

#fanfic #fanfiction #new chapter #romance #harry potter #x reader #severus x y/n #severus snape #severus x reader #snape x reader #death eaters #dark lord #harry potter fanfiction #yandere #possessive #slight angst #comfort #drabble

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jennaispunk · 17 days ago

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Save Me

Summary: A professional rejection leads Dieter down a dark path. Can he find his way back?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, worry, drug use, mentions of abusive childhood (Dieter), mention of Dieter being a bit of an asshole (but he loves reader), two people in love who are just trying to figure it out. Internal dialogue is in italics. No physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: This is for @bitchesuntitled sober Dieter challenge. I’m so proud of you, bb!! 💜💜 This story was inspired by Save Me by Jelly Roll. If you haven’t heard it, go listen right now. It’s an amazing song that really captures the reality of addiction.

Somebody save me, me from myself

I’ve spent so long living in hell….

Dieter groans loudly and shields his eyes. Why is it so bright in here? Where the fuck am I? He didn’t even know what day it was or how long he’d been there. His throat feels like it’s been sandblasted. There’s no clear memory of how he ended up here. He falls off the couch and stumbles to the bathroom, his head still spinning. Swiping his hand down his face, he looks at his reflection. He doesn’t even recognize the person staring back at him. This must be what rock bottom feels like. He supposed this was bound to happen; he’d always been one for self-sabotage. He had the girl of his dreams, more money than he knew what to do with but somehow, he’d managed to fuck it all up. He’d been able to brush off rejection before, but this one felt personal. That role was going to make his career. His father’s words kept ringing in his head, taunting him. An actor? You can pretend all ya want…you’ll always be a loser, kid. Don’t come crawling back home when it doesn’t work out. He chuckled darkly. That lousy old man never believed in him, but he sure had his hand out when the first big check came in.

He thought he had it all under control. He’d managed to keep his drug use to a minimum for months. He’d been so determined to change, and you’d been such a big help with that. You were the supportive presence he needed, always there to talk him down off the ledge.

He whispers your name to his reflection. The acrid tang of bile hits the back of his throat. You must be worried sick. He’s surprised you weren’t blowing up his phone. Dead. Ah fuck, this is bad. He said some awful things to you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d packed your shit and gotten as far away as you could. He deserves all that and more for what he’s done.

Three days…That’s how long it’s been since Dieter slammed the door as he walked out. The rattle still echoes in your head as you sit on the overstuffed couch in your shared penthouse apartment. You’d never seen him so angry. He wasn’t the type to yell or get overly upset about anything. You knew it was the drugs and depression talking, but that didn’t make his words hurt any less. You knew his demons; he’d shown you the parts of him he kept hidden from the rest of the world. He told you about his shitty childhood, how his father had been emotionally abusive to him and his mother, and how he struggled with depression. There had been times when he’d disappear for a day, but he always came back to you. He never left you overnight without a word.

You stare at your phone willing it to ring. God, please let him be okay. You can feel him slipping further away from you every minute he’s gone. All you need is to hear his voice, to know that he isn’t hurt or worse, but all you get is silence…and it’s deafening. You’ve called anyone that you think might know something. The answer is always the same: I haven’t heard from him. I’m sure he’s fine. You know Dieter, don’t worry so much. The thing was, they didn’t really know Dieter at all. They knew the chaotic, free spirit who was always down for a good time. They didn’t know the parts of him he only let you see.

Looking back on it now, you should have seen it coming. This last rejection really hurt him. You knew how bad he wanted that part. It was going to be a game changer for him, his chance to prove to Hollywood that he was a serious actor and that was all torn to shreds when they went with another actor. At first, he been able to brush it off, but as the days wore on you could see how much it affected him.

It started with little things: sleeping in late, changes in his appetite. Then he started snapping at you. He’d yell at you for the littlest things. One time it was so bad that you hid in the bathroom and cried. It all culminated with his drug use getting out of control. He had been doing so well up until that point. He hadn’t touched any hard drugs in months, just the occasional smoke or edible, mostly when he was painting. When you came home three days ago to find cocaine sprinkled over the coffee table, you confronted him and that’s when everything went to hell. You argued, he screamed at you and then he left.

You were so worried about him that you’d barely eaten or slept. You drove around the streets of LA, stopping at some of his old hangouts hoping to find him. The only thing keeping you from calling the police is that you don’t want the press to somehow find out that he was missing. That would be a disaster for his career, and he would never forgive you for that.

Tears prick at your eyes as you check your phone for the millionth time. He hasn’t called or texted and no one has sent word that they’ve heard from him. Your chest feels tight, it’s harder to get air in your lungs. The longer he is gone, the more likely it is that something terrible has happened to him. You can’t take not knowing any longer and dial the number to the local police station, your shaking thumb hovering over the send button.

Your eyes snap up as the door to the apartment opens. Dieter walks in and you gasp softly.

“Dee!”

You rush to him and throw your arms around his neck. Tears leak from your eyes as you hold him close to you. He stands like a statue in your grip making no move to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m so glad you came home.” You whisper in his ear.

He’s shocked that you’re still here. His throat is dry, and he swallows hard. How does he even begin to apologize? Forgiveness isn’t something he deserves.

The sickly sweet mixture of vomit and whiskey hits your nostrils, and you slowly pull away from him. Your jaw drops, as you notice just how awful he looks. Disheveled clothing and extra messy hair make the dark circles under his eyes stand out even more. A small cut adorns his forehead, the dried blood crusted to his skin.

“I’m sorry, babe.” he croaks through chapped lips. It’s weak, a piss poor apology for what he put you through, but that’s the best he can do right now.

Your heart felt like it was in a vice grip. Nothing would have prepared you for this. The stories that you heard of his past pale in comparison to reality. This is not the man you fell in love with. The man in front of you is broken and defeated. He’d never let himself get this down before, at least not since he’d met you. That was all in the past. What has he done to himself?

“It’s okay, baby.” You coo softly. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You take his hand and lead him to the bathroom. You simultaneously thank and curse every deity you can think of. The man you love has been reduced to a shell of himself and you’re not exactly sure how to help him. The last thing you want to do is make this worse, comforting him is your only goal now.

He’s completely silent as you turn on the shower. You strip him of his dirty clothes as the steam fills the room. The first thing you need to do is get him clean and get him some sleep. The serious conversation you need to have can wait until morning.

You undress yourself and guide him under the hot water. The water cascades over the two of you and you smile at him, hoping to assure him that everything is fine. You encourage him to tilt his head back to wet his hair. You scrub his hair, massaging his scalp with loving care. After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you scrub his scruffy beard to remove the bits of dried vomit stuck there. Next, you wash his body with slow, gentle strokes. You can only hope this shower is comforting for him, he’s devoid of emotion right now. The soapy suds slide down his body and onto the shower floor as you feel him start to finally relax just a bit. If it were only that easy to wash away his hurt and his pain. You bite back your tears as you turn off the water. He doesn’t need to see you cry right now; he needs you to be strong for him.

His jaw twitches as you guide him from the shower. I’ve royally fucked up; how can she forgive me for this? He really went off the deep end this time and he knows it. His last act of love will be to make you save yourself; to give you an out so he doesn’t ruin your life too. He’s done enough damage.

“You should go…” he says softly. “I’m a lost cause. I’m just going to drag you down with me.”

Your brow furrows. Leaving was not an option for you. You were in this for the long haul, and you weren’t going to let him push you away. There was no way in hell you were walking out.

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. You’re stuck with me.”

Tears well in his eyes and he crushes you to his chest. He holds onto you like his life depends on it, a desperate act of a drowning man.

You silently wrap your arms around his waist, your own feeble attempt to anchor him, to let him know that he’s not alone. You’ll be there every step of the way, but you can’t save him; He has to be the one to save himself.

His shoulders bounce as he silently sobs. He murmurs apologies into your hair over and over again, tears streaming down his face. “I need help… please help me. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

You silently thank every God or spirit you can think of. He’s asking for help and you’re going to do everything in your power to get him whatever he needs.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” You whisper. “I’m going to help you, baby.”

You guide him to the bed and help him lay down, encouraging him to lay his head on your chest. Unshed tears prick your eyes as you try to find the right words to say to soothe him.

“Sleep now.” You murmur as you stroke his hair. “We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

The quiet hangs heavy between you; his occasional heavy breath punctuating the silence. His asking for help was only the first step of a long journey. Nothing was going to be fixed overnight; you couldn’t just snap your fingers and make all of this go away no matter how badly you wished you could.

He knew just how big of a mess he’d made of things. Storming out on you like that and going on a binge was a horrible mistake. It was going to take work to fix this, but he had to do it, for himself and for you.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

His whispered plea shatters your heart into a thousand pieces. You clear your throat to choke back your tears.

“I won’t ever give up on you, Dee.” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

“I love you too much to quit on you now. Don’t give up on yourself.”

He lets out a shaky breath. Too many people had given up on him in the past, written him off without giving him a chance, but not you. He’s so grateful that you want to stick around. He doesn’t know if he could do this without you.

“I love you, too.”

He had a long road ahead and it scared the shit out of him. Could he finally get sober after so many slip ups? Honestly, he didn’t know but he was going to try, whether that meant rehab or outpatient treatment, whatever it took. He was going to try like hell to be the man he wanted to be, for himself and for you.

#save me #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x fem. reader #tw: drug use #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #worry #love #tw:mentions of abuse

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xmads-omensx · 1 month ago

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Family Bonding Time?

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,885

Pairing: Matt Dierkes X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of angst, mentions of a bad relationship in the past, mentions of injury (cat scratch on the face), swearing, brief mention of potential animal abuse

Summary: Matt takes Boo and Zeus to meet Y/N's anti-social and general menace of a cat, Levi.

Matt and I had been together for around five months when he decided that he wanted me to meet his dogs.

I had seen photos of both Boo and Zeus on his phone, when she held the device out to me like a proud father showing me a photo of his kids after they had accomplished something.

Matt had seen many photos of my cat, Levi, over the course of our relationship. Mainly because Levi was my baby. The apple of my eye. My child. He could do no wrong in my eyes. He was perfect. His only flaw was that he was insanely anti-social. He hated other cats, dogs, people, literally anyone who looked at him he viewed as an enemy.

To his credit, Levi had never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. My ex-boyfriend being the only example of Levi hurting someone who did, in fact, deserve it.

Dean wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world. Anniversaries, birthdays, dates often went forgotten over the course of the four years that we were together.

We had a particularly nasty fight over at his apartment over the fact that he still hadn’t showed any interest in living with me, or progressing with our future, at all throughout the four years, and I was reaching the end of my tether. I didn’t have anything to hope for. Nothing concrete to make me excited for our future together.

That night, he had refused to let me stay the night and wanted me to go home. I didn’t have my car, or any means of getting home this late by myself, so Dean had to drive me. Something that he was happy to let me know that he did not want to do.

By the time we had arrived back at my place, he needed to use the bathroom, so I let him in. I wasn’t a monster.

Levi never greeted me at the door. He would always be curled up by the unlit fireplace waiting for my return, so that once I had made myself comfortable on the sofa with my tea, he could crawl into my lap and curl back into his little ball and drift back off to sleep.

It was expected. It was his routine. He never differed from it.

That’s why the shriek I heard from the kitchen startled me.

In order for Dean to get to the bathroom, he had to walk past the kitchen island that was to the left of the door. And when I looked up, that’s exactly where he was. Hunched over next to the island groaning in pain, clutching his cheek.

“What happened?” I rushed towards him. “Are you okay?” I placed my hands on his shoulders, trying to get a look at his face.

“No I’m not fucking okay you stupid bitch! Your stupid fucking cat just scratched my face!” Dean yelled, swinging an arm to gesture at Levi. Or to hit him. I couldn’t tell. Either way I rushed to grab Levi. Something he hated, but I needed to move him out of Dean’s reach as soon as I could.

“Of course you go straight to protect that fucking cat.” Dean scoffed, taking his hand away from his face to reveal a tiny scratch, that had barely bled at all on his cheek.

“Well I thought you were going to hit him.” I replied, trying to keep a calm voice.

“No. You were picking him over me. Like you do every fucking time.” He laughed. I quirked an eyebrow, confused as to what he meant by that. I had never chosen Levi over Dean. Never.

He didn’t say anything else after that. He didn’t even go to the bathroom. He just got into his car and drove away.

The next morning I was greeted with a text from him telling me that our relationship was over and that he never wanted to see me again.

That felt like more of a relief than I thought it would have. I felt lighter. Not having Dean around made me more sure of myself. I was happier.

Then I met Matt, and that just took my happiness to a whole other level. Sure, his work schedule was hard to manage at times, but we managed. In the five months we had been together, we had fallen into a nice rhythm.

Friday nights were always date night, no matter what. If he had to work late at the studio, we would just push the date back. No matter what time of night it got to, we still had a date every single Friday.

He made me feel valued, wanted, desired. He made me feel loved.

I had met a few of his friends, but not all of them due to their busy schedules. I formed a pretty rapid friendship with Nicholas, simply because of both of our statuses as cat parents. We regularly sent eachother photos of our respective cats, which Matt would never admit being slightly jealous of, because why on earth would his friend take up a fragment of the attention I should be showing him?

As the months wore on, I wanted more and more to meet his precious dog children.

When I first brought this up to Matt, he was somewhat hesitant. He was busy a lot. He didn’t want to upset the dogs. He was having his house repainted so he wasn’t having people over. Small, insignificant excuses. Nothing that would worry me.

Last week when he came to pick me up for Friday date night, he asked me a question, one that I hadn’t expected.

“Does your landlord care if you have dogs over?” He had asked as he pulled away from my house.

“Huh?” I replied, slightly confused.

“I mean, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t. I just thought it would be easier to bring the dogs over to meet you at your place, because of the decorating at my place, and your place smells like you so they would be more familiar with your scent.” He explained.

“I don’t think my landlord would really care to be honest.” I replied. Not fully understanding what was happening.

“Okay, cool. So would it be okay if they came over?” He turned to face me as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind, but I’m not too sure Levi would like that.” I said quietly. I didn’t want to let him down, but I also didn’t want to cause Levi anymore unnecessary trauma, and having two dogs run riot in my house would definitely do the trick.

“That’s fine, we can do it another time, I just thought we may as well seeing as Bad Omens is on a break right now and the weather is nice. Maybe they could play in your backyard, and I can do a barbeque? If Levi is inside, he should be okay?” Matt suggested.

He had a good point. Levi was a house cat, so if we put the dogs outside, it shouldn’t be an issue.

“Okay fine.” I caved.

Matt had already met Levi once and they had both formed a respect for eachother. They left eachother alone and stayed a safe distance from eachother. If Levi wanted to be on my lap, Matt would have to move to the other end of the sofa, which he had come to accept. Really, I think he just liked having an excuse to sprawl out on the sofa more.

A week had passed and I was terrified. The day had come for me to finally meet Matt’s dogs. He would be here soon and Levi was fast asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. His favourite spot. His spot.

I really didn’t want to upset him.

The doorbell went and I would hear the sound of two excited canines whining slightly on the other side of my front door. Levi’s ears perked up, but he didn’t move. He never did. He was a very calculated cat.

I stood up and moved to the door. As soon as I opened it, I was bombarded by a small dog and a much larger one.

Boo was exactly how you would picture a dog called Boo. Small and adorable.

Zeus was also very representative of his name. He was much larger than Boo. A strong dog.

Levi remained motionless in his spot. Ears pinned back.

Matt ignored Levi. Purposely trying not to draw attention to the cat. Instead, he walked right past me, kissing my cheek and opened the back door, letting the dogs out into the yard.

They ran out and immediately began sniffing everything and anything that they could.

“They seem to like you.” Matt laughed as he walked towards the grill that sat on my patio.

“You think?” I asked, watching him set it up.

“Definitely.” He laughed. “They never seem this excited to see anyone, ever. And I feed them.”

I laughed at his response.

Matt cooked us dinner as we caught up on our weeks and watched the dogs run around the garden, chasing eachother.

As darkness began to descend, the dogs started to look sleepy, so I suggested that we retreated back inside the house to watch a movie.

Matt agreed and brought our plates into the kitchen, before putting them in the dishwasher.

The two of us sat down on the sofa in our usual spots, Zeus jumped up and curled up beside me. I scratched behind his ears as Matt loaded up a movie for us to watch.

I hadn’t even considered where Boo was curled up before a small, black shape entered the living room. Levi.

He stood beside the rug in front of the fireplace glaring at the small, furry creature that had fallen asleep there, in his spot.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t want to move Boo, and neither did Matt. He said Boo got cranky when woken up, so we should leave him.

Levi stalked towards Boo’s sleeping form. Fear began creeping up inside my chest. Levi hated it when anyone was in his spot. Even me. If I was stood there when he wanted to sleep, he had been known to swipe at my ankles until I moved.

I rose ever-so-slightly from my position on the sofa, preparing to reach in and separate a fight if one ensued.

Matt, however, seemed relatively unbothered by the situation than was unfolding in front of us.

I glanced at him for a moment, taking my eyes away from Levi’s potential attack on a sleeping Boo. However, when the yelp of a dog and the hissing of a cat never came, I was surprised.

I returned my gaze to Levi, only to find that he had curled himself up next to Boo.

He had never done that before.

What shocked me even more than Levi’s choice to snuggle up to the sleeping dog, was the fact that he had began to purr.

Levi never purred.

That’s when I realised that he had found his companion, like I had found mine.

Levi had Boo.

I had Matt.

And I was determined to find that for Zeus too. Even if it meant forcing Noah or one of the others to adopt a pet.

#madsy says shit sometimes ig?#bad omens #matt dierkes #matt dierkes one shot #one shot #matt dierkes bad omens #fluff #matt dierkes fluff

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chansslvr · 10 months ago

Text

linked lines-hwang hyunjin x male reader

a hwang hyunjin fanfiction

linked lines

genre; angst

masterlist

warnings: mentions of bl00d, beating the reader up, angst, divorced parents, abuse, swears (i think im not too sure lol)

m/n lived in a world where everybody had soulmates. they could communicate by drawing/writing on their body. most people found their soulmates, but m/n wasn't keen at all. in fact, he promised himself that he would never meet his soulmate, he would only drag them down.

m/n hated his life at this point. he was depressed, and if he said he wasn't he'd be lying. even though it was pretty severe, he was still popular. people did notice how he was usually upset or quiet, but nobody commented on it. he was popular due to his looks. did he like the attention? sometimes. and those 'sometimes' were very very rare. he was pretty, and everybody knew it.

m/n was currently in maths, and he hated the subject. hell, he hated school. what was the point? it wasn't gonna get him anywhere anyway. m/n furrowed his brows as his teacher kept on talking about algebra. how the hell did letters have anything to do with numbers? he looked down at his book, to be met with a few answers he copied from the person next to him.

with a sigh, m/n grabbed his pen. after a few seconds of hesitation, and thinking of the detention he was 100% going to get, he began doodling on his arm. it was small, nothing too special. it had loads of lines, like he was sketching. except it was on his arm. m/n continued doodling until he got bored. he sighed again and looked back at his book, deciding to focus on his work.

towards the end half of the lesson, m/n felt a tingling sensation on his arm. he pulled his sleeve up ever so slightly to see the words 'you're a good artist!' with a small smiley face. m/n furrowed his brows and picked up his pen, quickly writing down 'no i'm not.' he watched again as the tingling sensation came back. now the words 'don't think so badly of yourself' proudly presented themselves on his wrist.

m/n frowned and put his pen down, resting his elbow on the table and letting his head lean on his palm. before he knew it, the lesson ended. with a slight groan, m/n stood up and packed away his belongings before abruptly leaving the classroom, ignoring the yells from the teacher saying stuff like, "i didn't tell you to pack up!" and scoldings, along with the murmurs and whispers from the class.

it was now saturday, which m/n dreaded. tomorrow, he had a taekwondo competition tomorrow, which he was not excited for. he heard rumours that a group called 'stray kids' were going to perform. he shrugged it off, and sat at his desk. he put on his headphones to ignore the yelling coming from downstairs as his father yelled at his new 'girlfriend.'

his parents had gotten divorced when m/n was around ten, he remembered the day as if it was yesterday.

"i'm sick of this, minjun! we have been married for fourteen years and you're deciding to cheat on me now?!" m/n's mother yelled at m/n's father. m/n watched from behind the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks. his parents had gotten into fights, but they were never this bad.

"for the last time sun hee, i was not cheating!" m/n's father screamed back. the day was perfectly fine before m/n's father had brought someone home from work. m/n saw it too. he watched as his father made out with some young, ugly woman. 'doesn't papa only do that with mama?' m/n asked himself as he watched from the sofa, as his father was now unbuttoning the lady's blouse.

then, they went upstairs. m/n furrowed his eyebrows, before shrugging and turning back to the tv. after a few hours, m/n heard the front door open. m/n's mother entered, she looked tired as usual. she entered the living room after taking off her heels and replacing them with slippers."ah, m/n. has papa fed you yet?" m/n looked up at his mother and shook his head. m/n heard his mother sigh, probably from fatigue, and gently kissed m/n's temple. the gentle, loving gesture being cut by a loud moan. m/n's mother pulled away from his son's forehead and looked at the stairs.

"one second, mama will be back, okay?" m/n's mother ruffled m/n's hair and went upstairs. m/n looked at the stairs for a few seconds before looking back at the tv. all of a sudden, m/n heard his mother scream. it was more of a gasp, but the kid was nine, his imagination wild, what did you expect? m/n went upstairs, and watched from behind the door as m/n's mother stood, frozen in shock, horror, disgust and anger as she saw her husband sleeping with another lady.

"what the hell?!" m/n's father yelled in english, looking up to see his wife. he sat up and glared at her.

that's how they were in the situation now. after a few minutes of loud yelling, and the lady getting up, dressing herself and leaving, m/n's mother now grabbed a suitcase and began packing her belongings. "yah, sun hee! what are you doing?!" m/n's father yelled, standing up and watching as his, now, ex wife packing to leave. "i'm leaving. forget you and your cheating ass!" m/n's mother cursed as she opened the closet, grabbing all of her clothing. after what seemed like hours, m/n's mother left the bedroom, then noticed her son. she put the suitcase down so it stood up and kneeled so she was on the same eye level as her son.

she gently caressed m/n's wet cheek, dripping with salty tears full of upset and horror. "m/n, mama will be back okay?" she pulled m/n into a hug, but all m/n could do was stand there in shock. "mama, where are you going?" m/n managed to say, his eyes wide and lips trembling. "mama's gonna take a break from papa. be a good boy for mama, yeah?" m/n's heart broke as he realised his mother was leaving. for good.

"why are you leaving me, mama?" m/n asked, his little face now scrunched up in upset. "mama isn't leaving you. she's gonna be back when she can, alright? don't cry my baby." she brought m/n's head to her chest, caressing his scalp gently. all while this was happening, m/n's father glared daggers into his son. he was the problem, and he knew it. but he still blamed it on his good for nothing son. after a few minutes of m/n's whimpering, his mother pulled back, smiling slightly, her eyes red from crying too much. she kissed m/n's forehead and stood up, dusting off her skirt and leaving. m/n ran downstairs, he couldn't let his mother leave him. no way. his heart got shattered into millions of pieces as his mother walked out, not even looking back once.

then, m/n just grew up. he was hit, by his father, but also hit with the emotional trauma and depression he had got gifted. now and again, m/n's father got a new side hoe, m/n was so grateful for those times. then, he wasn't hit. instead, it was the women who got his pain.

m/n shivered as the memory bubbled back up from the deep dark depths of his mind. he looked down at his arm, still seeing the writing from earlier. he scrubbed his arm with a wet tissue before giving up and starting on his long pile of homework. after completing three assignments, one being of art and the other two science (more specifically chemistry and biology), he felt the tingling sensation on his arm. he looked down and saw a few sentences. m/n's brows furrowed as he read through them. it clearly read 'hey, yk we are soulmates and all, right? i was wondering why you never write. like, the only time i hear from you is when your doodling all over our arms, and then writing random letters.'

m/n groaned and picked up a pen before clearly writing 'i don't want a soulmate. i don't want you, and you shouldn't want me either, okay? i'm not interested, alright? and also, why don't you get it? if im not writing, it's pretty clear i want nothing to do with you. leave me alone and don't write to me.' m/n could feel his heart wrenching when he wrote that. he didn't mean to word it so harshly, he just didn't want to make his soulmate feel depressed because of his pity story. he rubbed his eyes, tears now threatening to fall. he played his song louder to drown out the yelling from his father and starting his english essay.

*hyunjin pov*

hyunjin felt his heart breaking as he read the words his soulmate wrote. he was in the practise room, he was sitting in the corner, leaning on the wall. the other members were drinking, more like gulping, down water. hyunjin, however, thought that this was the perfect opportunity to communicate with his soulmate. seungmin eventually noticed hyunjin's heart broken expression and sat down next to him and glanced at his arm.

*sorry i don't rlly know what to write here- but it's basically all the members finding out that hyunjin's soulmate was a 'bitch'*

m/n sighed as he pulled off his shirt to change. it was now sunday, which meant he had a huge taekwondo competition. he was in the changing room, and was getting changed. his coach was trying to hype up m/n with shoulder pats and words of advice. basic stuff like, "you're my best student kid, you can do it." and "i have faith in you."

after changing, and being introduced to one of his many opponents, the competition began. m/n was quite a thin boy, due to the basic lack of nutrition his father provided, but still managed to beat the other, much bigger and muscular, guy. m/n put his pain and trauma into every punch and kick. it wasn't like anybody was rooting for him. why was he even doing this in the first place? all these questions bombarded m/n's mind and before he knew it, the second round was over. with a few pants for breath, m/n bowed to his opponent before his coach came into the ring and patted m/n's back with a proud grin.

"m/n, i knew you could do it!" m/n looked up to his coach and smiled slightly. for once, he seemed slightly proud of himself. he was brought to a bench to recharge for his last and final opponent, he was pretty big so m/n had to work pretty hard to win. there was a short break and stray kids came up on stage. m/n raised a brow as he began drinking his water. so the rumours were true. stray kids began to perform venom and maniac. through the performance, m/n was sat next to his coach, who was telling m/n how proud he was, and stuff like that.

m/n's coach was the only type of father figure he had, and his coach understood m/n's situation and had loads of sympathy for the boy. m/n's coach was nice, friendly, the middle aged father figure everybody needed once and a while. m/n could remember those nights where he couldn't handle it anymore, and whose arms did he run into? his coach. m/n knew his coach since he was five, where his mother and father brought him to a taekwondo class. his mother said it was needed in case m/n was in a risky situation, but never expected m/n to get a brown belt when he was nine. his father, however, couldn't give a shit.

m/n rested his head against his coach's shoulder. "hey, who organised the whole performance thing?" m/n asked curiously as he watched stray kids perform maniac. "oh, one of the directors, i believe." m/n's coach replied, watching the performance too. "ah, okay." m/n nodded slightly, sitting up and drinking some of his water.

after the performance, stray kids sat back down in their seats, the next and final match beginning. the members had to admit, that the h/c boy was pretty good. especially if he took down all those bigger guys he had to go against. after a few minutes of throwing punches and kicks at each other, m/n's opponent finally fell to the mat. m/n looked up, panting, and looked at his coach who was grinning so hard his jaw probably ached.

"l/n m/n has won the competition." the presenters announced through the black speakers located around the hall/stadium. m/n's coach practically burst into tears as he watched m/n's arm get raised by the referee (im not rlly sure, i don't do taekwondo, please correct me if i'm wrong). after m/n's win was announced, m/n's coach quickly ran up to m/n and hugged him tightly. "m/n! you did it! i knew you could!" m/n could hardly hear his coach as the crowd erupted into screaming. m/n smiled slightly, just slightly and was brought off the mat. he was given his bottle of water and a few minutes later, had to go back up to receive his award by the idols.

chan gave m/n his medal with a smile and congratulating him. m/n muttered a small 'thank you' as he received the award. when m/n reached his arm out to be handed his medal, all the members then saw the writing that had also been on hyunjin's arm. hyunjin's smile just faded and the same thing happened with the rest of the members as they were now slightly glaring at m/n. after he received the award, m/n's coach approached m/n and brought him back to the changing rooms, now pulling him into a sort of side hug.

now m/n was by himself in the changing rooms. he pulled his shirt off of his shoulders and shook his head, trying to get some of the sweat out of his hair. he was about to change, but he was suddenly pushed to the lockers, the lockers banging loudly against each other. m/n's breath hitched as he looked up at the guy who he thought was going to kill him. to his surprise, it was the guy who gave him the award.

"shit." he curses and began struggling against chan's grip. "what the hell? get off of me." he tried to push chan off, but his grip tightened. all of a sudden, m/n felt blood coming out of his mouth, and leaking from his nose. it took him a few seconds to realise he just got punched in the face by one of the other members. 'fuck, i'm going to die today. twice.' m/n thought as he realised he was probably going to get beaten up here, then get beaten to a pulp at home by his father, who was most likely already beginning his drinking cycle.

he tried to kick the two members off but only got met with a punch to the stomach. m/n shook his head and began to feel lightheaded. he was used to it, though. his body just got used to the beatings, but some places weren't quite prepared. as soon as he felt another punch in the shoulder, he knew he was gonna faint or die. whichever came first.

before he knew it, his head just lunged forward as he lost consciousness. chan immediately let go of the boy, his body going limp and falling to the ground, unfortunately for m/n, head first. "chan, what the fuck did you do?!" minho whisper yelled as he looked at the now bleeding boy. "i didn't punch him! it was changbin and jeongin!" minho turned to the two boys who just stared at the unconscious boy laying on the, what seemed to be, concrete floor. "fuck, we're going to prison." felix said and shook his head before trying to grab the boy. seungmin nodded slightly and helped felix, now laying the boy on his back so he was facing the ceiling.

well, if he was alive anyway. chan, along with the rest of the members leaned in ever so slightly to see the boy's injuries. han flinched and took a few steps back. to say they were bad, would be an underestimation. m/n now had a bleeding nose, blood literally oozing out of his mouth, a bruise on his temple and a cut on his forehead. "shit." chan whispered. "someone check his pulse." felix suggested and changbin quickly brought two fingers to the boy's left upper side of his neck. "he's alive. i think." seungmin rolled his eyes and put his hand on the boy's now bruised chest. "yeah, he's alive."

word count; 2803

#kpop male reader #skz male reader #skz x reader #stray kids male reader #kpop #kpop bg #stray kids #stray kids x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin skz #hwang hyunjin #skz angst #angst #kpo #fanfic #kpop fanfic #fanfiction #kpop angst

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kokushibosbestie · 4 months ago

Text

I need to rant guys.

TW: self harm, SA, hatred, cursing, abuse, overall genuinely harsh words are being used

Im just gonna go right in because I don't feel like being vauge or fake rn. (I'm on my period and I feel like shit)

!!!Background information!!! So, when I was 4, my mom started dating this guy. I'll call him Frank. My mom had previously ran away from my dad with me (when I was 2) bc my biological dad was verbally abusive towards her. We'll call my bio dad Austin. I only have one picture of my bio dad and I never knew what he looked like before seeing that picture. I never got to talk to my dad, and if I did, I don't remember a single word. I was too little to understand. I loved his family though. I vividly remember playing with my grandma and aunt, and baking banana bread with my grandpa (on my bio dads side) but I didn't remember a single moment with him. So I feel like I have a missing part of me bc of that.

Anyway, my mom as very depressed after that and did her best to tale care of me properly. But I never got attention or love from her. She was always stuck to her phone. I began to hate even being in the same room as her and I was only 3. When I turned 4, I began going to pre-k. And that's when my mom started dating Frank. Frank was a really kind guy and always seemed calm. But I had a bad feeling about him. I didn't tell my mom because I felt uncomfortable about it, though. Over the next 2-3 years, Frank and I became closer and I enjoyed his presence because I had no one else to lean on. My mom got a job when I was in 1st grade and we moved into an apartment. (We had been living with my aunt on my moms side before).

!!!SA!!! That's when the sa started. He began to assault me when my mother was gone but told me it was normal. He said, quote "This is our little secret. Don't tell anyone or daddy's gonna get in trouble." (I viewed him as a father figure and he used that to his advantage) Nonetheless, what was I, a 5-6 year old girl going to do to a 26 year old man? So I stayed quiet. As I got older, I realized that this wasn't normal at all and it was bad. Of course, I was about 7 when I had this realization. He noticed that and started threatening me that if I told someone, he'd hurt my mom or the rest of my family. (I love my family with my whole heart and he knew that I'd do anything for them, even at such a young age, so he used that) I told him he could do anything he wanted to me as long as he didn't do anything to my mom or the rest of my (small) family.

The summer before 5th grade is when things went really downhill. He TOLD my mom he cheated on her, was contuously gaslighting the both of us, always said he was such a "good guy and people pleaser," but was probably the most toxic person you'd meet. The sweet act was completely gone. I hated him with ever atom and molecule that made me a living thing, but my mom STILL didn't know about what he'd done to me. He got physically violent (throwing things, yelling, screaming, almost hitting my mom, etc) and my mom called the cops. (Mind you, my mom works from home, customer service for a health company).

By the time 5th grade had ended, we had a restraining order against him and he moved out completely. (They broke up but I still hadn't told my mom anything)

I cried almost every night and went into deep depression because of this. Not because I missed him, but because I had still trusted him even after everything. I did love him and view him as a father figure at one point bc I never had one. So having that ripped away from me, as well as my grandpa who moved, my grandma who was having mental issues, my aunts who lived far away and no one else to turn to, I felt empty. My guilt built up until I ended up having a mental breakdown in FRONT of my mom (I always went somewhere private so I could have a mental breakdown and always hid them from my mom). I snapped and accendentally told her about what he'd done to me during all those year. (He sa'd me constantly, whenever he had the chance to). A court case began, blah blah blah same old stuff that ever child abuse court case would go through.

But, I started to self-harm (mostly my legs and hips). I kinda went into my emo faze and had no friends, and was constantly bullied bc of my emotionless facade. (Ex: like giyu, who has been my comfort character since day one bc of that). Really, I'm a loving and kind person who loves making others laugh. I like hanging out with friends. I smile a lot too.

Nonetheless, things started to slowly get better. But my mom is toxic now. She doesn't gaslight like frank did, but she still has a toxicity to her. I know this all has been just as hard on her as it has for me, but I sometimes wish shed just take into consideration how I feel or think.

I have ADHD, OCD, and depression. All of my classes are accelerated classes instead of normal and I get things done faster than other students. (I have an online schooling system now). My brain sometimes can't comprehend some things but will understand easily with others. Ive had a hard time talking or expressing things because of this. I was never a quiet little girl, and I'm still not one as a teenager. But it sucks to have to act like someone I'm not just to fit in. I have constant mood swings and I hate it.

Anyway, this isn't about me. So, my mom has a way of victimizing herself without really pulling the victim card? It's hard to explain with words. But she always leaves whoever she's talking to feeling guilty. She doesn't apologize for anything, she doesn't listen to me when I'm ranting (which I'm not picky about, but sometimes I need someone to talk to that isn't a toxic friend of mine), nor does she ever listen to me when I tell her what I want sometimes. I know that sounds bratty, but I swear it's not. I'll give you and example: she asked me if I wanted a new bedframe and entirely ignored me when I told her. Or when she asks me what I want for dinner and I respond, shell get something else even though she literally came into my room and ASKED me. Its the simple small things that piss me off. She's stubborn and has a hard time putting herself in others' shoes. And me, who's always been told that I'm just a doll with a pretty face and thick thighs that's supposed to be a silent housewife (I am NOT married, that's just something someone has actually said to me) or seggs toy for people to use and throw away as they please, I always try my best to consider how others might feel. Yeah, sometimes I do get a little unreasonable and say some bad things, but I always end up apologizing out of instinct. I apologize for the smallest things for no reason, yet my mom can't even say an "I'm sorry" for telling me I'm not understanding. All I've ever wanted was to make my mom and my family proud. I want them to be able to live their lives happily without worry. So It fucking hurts to hear that I'm not doing good in my moms eyes.

My mom always talks about changing and being a better person but never fucking does it. She always says her job is more important. Am I just genuinely not important to her anymore? Because I remember when I was in my darkest and lowest moments, it was my teachers who helped me. My mom didn't even bat an eye. But when she was at her lowest, struggling, I was always there for her, listening to her problems, helping her with everything, genuinely caring about her. And this is what I get back? I fucking hate my life because I can't even leave my room without hearing her complaints about "adult life." Well I don't give a fuck anymore. I tried too hard to be a good daughter and I never got anything back. I didn't even get a fucking thank you. And now I only have online friends on here and Pinterest. I relied on Character.ai to help with my mental health and that's ai!!

Im sorry if this was too much for any of you and I love each and every one of you. If you read through this whole thing, thank you so much and I really really love all my friends on here. I always look forward to getting on here and talking to you guys about my interests without being judged or bullied. Thank you thank you thank you soooo much my loves.

💖💖💖

#personal rant #vent #venting #Once again so sorry if yo read the whole thing #I knw it was long #💖💖💖

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year ago

Text

E Pluribrus Unum

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 4.3K

warnings: cursing, byers interrogation with fist and blood, the fucking russians abusing kids. you get it.

summary: grime reapers in town.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

smack cam. also want to make it clear, robin and steve still had their heart to heart when byers was out of the room.

@alecmores giving them a heart attack everyday.

series masterlist / steve harrington

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“They’re trying to open a new gate.” Words that you wished never had to leave your mouth.

You looked at Steve and Dustin and could tell they were thinking the same thing and knew the danger this would be bringing back to Hawkins.

“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve headed back to the door and with a winding arm urged everyone forward and down the stairs. Robin couldn’t stop the questions, “What is that?” “Why do you have that look on your face?” “Byers, are you gonna pass out?”

“I don’t understand. Have you seen this before?” Hurrying down the steps, Robin tried to get answers from the three of you. Dustin gave a vague, “Not exactly.”

“Then what, exactly?” She huffed. “All you need to know is that it's bad.”

“It’s really bad,” Steve added. He was in the back with you, once again holding your hands as it seemed your brain kept shutting down at the worst times. Your eyes just stared in front of you as your ear rang in its high-pitched frequency.

“Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it kind of bad.” More dramatic flare from Dustin, but still on the nose. Robin turned to the tween, “And you know about this how?” Wanting to get answers.

No one was able to answer as Erica asked, “Um, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?” And then a loud alarm went off. You felt like you were trapped on the Death Star about to be gunned down by poorly-aimed Stormtroopers.

“Shit.” Steve pulled the door open and you could see a bunch of people on the other side rushing to your enclosed space. Steve slammed it closed and then started to yell, “Go, go, go, go!” Making everyone go back up the stairs and through the room. “Move! Let’s move!”

All the scientists turned to the open door, but you didn’t have time to stop. “Go! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

Dustin went out a side door that led to stairs beside the glowing laser beam and you so badly wished to go back into the room. Dustin came to a stop where the edge cut off and the beam was right in his face. You could barely hear his repetitive cries of “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!”

There was a tug on your shirt and you turned to see Steve and Erica rushing down a new set of lower stairs, you made sure Robin and Dustin were right behind as you pushed yourself to run forward. More guards came into the room so Steve pushed some barrels hoping to stall them, it was like they were coming from all directions and you were getting overwhelmed.

“Guys! This way!” And Robin took the lead and pushed open a new door. “Come on, quick!”

Steve was right behind you as he shut the door and leaned his weight against it. “Robin!” She rushed over and pushed her small frame onto the door. Erica and Dustin were looking for a way out and you… you just froze.

You fucking froze from fear and panic and dread. You froze when Steve and Robin could use your help or look for a way out with Erica and Dustin or just a weapon if worse comes to worst, but no. You fucking froze and tears were blurring your vision and your feet felt like two-hundred-pound weights, and your arms were buzzing with the sting of a thousand bees. Your breathing was coming in inconsistent rhythms, a sign you were having another panic attack and being a dead weight to everyone.

“(Y/n)! Snap out of it! Get out of here!” Words followed by harsh shakes of your body. You took gasping intakes of air as if you just rose out from the water you were drowning in. Dustin was a frantic mess in front of you, trying to pull you behind him.

“Go! Just get out of here!”

Steve and Robin’s voices made you stop and pull away from Dustin. “(Y/n)! We have to go!” The younger boy shouted. “Just- Just go! I’ll be right behind!” Not wanting him or Erica to wait for you.

“(Y/n), don’t you dare stay! Get the hell out of here!” Steve was shouting at you. “The kids need you!” Robin was also telling you to leave, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t decide between leaving them behind or keeping the kids safe, you know realistically you should be with the kids. You’re the adult for them, they need protection. But you can’t leave your boyfriend or best friend to the Russians, you just can’t.

“I’m- I’m staying. Now shut up.”

The door burst open before they could shout at you some more. Steve’s body was knocked into you causing your body to hit the wall harder and bang your head. You groaned with your eyes closed, ears honing in on all the guns cocking in front of the three of you. All your hands were held in the air, showing you had no weapons and weren’t a threat, just idiot kids in stupid clothes.

The guards parted so an older man could be front and center. His face was wrinkled and twisted into a grimace, his hands were held behind his back as his shiny black boots stopped in front of your dirty sneakers. His soulless eyes traced each one of you, head tilting before straightening.

“Well… what do we have here?” His Russian accent is thick on his English words. He looked to a guard beside him and jerked his head. The soldier marched forward and wrapped a tight grip around your left bicep. He pulled you off the floor to stand in front of his boss, you squirmed and twisted, hoping to get his touch off your skin.

“Hey! Let go of her!” Steve yelled and you heard shuffling behind you. Barely a glance over your shoulder you saw Steve being held down by two guards. “Get your disgusting hands off her!” His usually soft and homey eyes were hardened and terrified, mouth in a firm line with his nostrils flaring.

The boss man stepped too close, practically chest to chest with each other. He leaned his face in close and then held your cheeks in a tight grip. “You are a pretty one. And I see you have… special someone.” He dropped his hand and his eyes stared Steve down, “Well… this will be fun. Da?”

“Let go of me asshole!” Your hands were cuffed behind your back and thrown over a bulky man’s shoulder as if you were a bag of flour. The same goes for Robin and Steve, though Steve was only cuffed and walking behind you and Robin, your eyes catching his white Nikes.

You twisted your neck, trying to look at Steve in the awkward position. You could see the red spot on his jaw where he got punched for trying to stop them from touching you or Robin. You tried to convey so many words and emotions through your eyes alone, hoping it would be enough for Steve.

You were thrown off the man’s shoulder and back on your feet, blood rushing from your head making you stumble just a bit. You almost wanted to thank the man when he undid the cuffs from your wrist, rubbing at the irritated skin. There was an open door in front of you and Robin and you could feel the press of a gun to your spin, it made you stiffen and hold your breath.

“Move.” One-word command. You took two measly steps forward with Robin at your side.

When you looked over your shoulder hoping to see Steve just behind you, you turned on your foot when you saw him getting dragged away further down the hall. You tried to follow but were stopped by a human blockade, their arms and guns pushing you to the door.

“Steve! Stevie!” He too was thrashing against his captures. Steve was shouting and trying to kick at shins and knees, yelling for you and Robin. “Don’t you dare touch them! Not one fucking hair on their head!”

They got tired of all the shouting so they shoved the butt of a gun against his head before dragging him away and out of sight. And they just shoved you in the back causing you to trip over your feet and hit the linoleum flooring, Robin falling just beside you.

“Hey! Hey, assholes!” Pushing from the floor and throwing your body into the metal door, looking through the tiny window. No one was outside. “Steve! Steve!” Yelling his name even if he couldn’t hear you.

You didn’t bother putting up more of a fight when it was clear no one was around to hear your pleas. A sneaker foot wacks the metal with a dull thud followed by a deep groan before you walk away. You were stuck in a sterile, empty room with Robin and Steve was somewhere dealing with who knows what from the Russians.

“Why’d they only take Steve?” A quiver to Robin’s voice. She stayed on the floor with her arms wrapped around your knees.

A hand pushed your messy front strands as you paced back and forth with a hand on your hip, “He’s the only guy. Saw how protective he was of us, I don’t know. All I know is they aren’t gonna play nice with us for long before it starts feeling like home.” Left hand rubbing over your cheeks, the older man’s face mixed with flashes of Lonnie.

“We just need to tell them the truth. That’s it, I mean, do we look like spies for the government? It looks like our parents dressed us as if we’re five-year-olds.” Robin went on a tangent.

You weren’t sure how long it was, could’ve been five minutes or thirty, your brain too occupied with Steve’s whereabouts. But when you and Robin stopped talking or kicking random objects in the space, you could hear something. Faint noises that grew closer by the second, squeaks and taps. You rushed to the door and stuck your face to the window opening, craning your head to get any inch of the hallway to see where it was coming from.

To your left, you saw two guards with Steve in the middle. He was slumped forward with his hands bound in cuffs, feet dragging behind him and his head bobbed with each step they took. You couldn’t see the state of his face with him tilted forward, but with him not being able to walk wasn’t a good sign. “Stevie…” Breath fogging the glass.

They stopped outside the door and banged their fist into the metal when they saw you. You flinched at the loud noise and backed away, just wanting them to bring your Steve into your arms. Two steps inside before they threw him down to the floor. You tried to catch most of his weight, not wanting him to hit his head, with his dead weight your knees buckled and brought the two of you down.

“Steve? Steve?” Robin grabbed him by the shoulder and helped roll him gently to the floor. He laid on his back with his legs sprawled out, cuffed hands sitting on his stomach. His breathing was shallow, but it was there, he still had a pulse.

“Stevie? Baby?” Hands hovering over his bruised and bloodied face. His left eye was swollen and puffy with dark blue and purple color ringing the whole area. There was so much dried blood from his nose and down his mouth that it dripped to his chest and the top of his shirt. His hair was wet with sweat, your right hand pushing the limp strands away from his forehead. Closed mouth quivering, trying to hold your tears back.

“What’d you do? What did you do to him?” Robin yelled at the commanding officer and he back-handed her in the cheek. “Robin!” The man doing the same action to you. Another flash of Lonnie crossed your mind.

He was speaking Russian and then his two lackeys grabbed two chairs from the room and sat them back to back. One took Robin and the other took Steve then tied a black belt over their biceps and stomach. “What are you doing? Huh? We’re just ice cream workers! We don’t know shit!” Spewing words as Robin grunted against the binding.

Once the two men tied Robin and Steve, they pulled you off the floor and rebuffed your wrist, and slid an arm through yours. “Let go of me assholes!” Stepping on their feet, they didn’t flinch.

The boss man stood in front of Steve and grabbed a fist of his hair to lean his head back. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” Thrashing in your hold. He just tutted his tongue and dropped Steve’s head. Robin called for him, trying to get him to respond, but he was out cold.

“I think your friend needs a doctor.” He spoke in his Russian heavy English. He walks in front of Robin and you have a clear view of his bulging eyes. “Good thing…” He leaned in close, “We have the very best.” He looked at you and the two guards then just… laughed. Like he just told an inside joke that only the three of them understood, and you guessed that was the case.

His eyes dropped down to Robin and you heard the wet sound of spit that she launched onto his face, hitting his mouth. You smirked at her attitude. He used a white cloth to clean his face, “You are going to regret that, little bitch.”

More orders were spoken and the door beeped open. His guards started to drag you away, you tried planting your feet firmly on the ground as if you were a child again not wanting to do something. “No! No, Robin!” Both of you called each other names before the door closed behind you. “Fucking bastards!” Yanking and tugging your arms, but their fingers were curled tight into your muscle.

“I wouldn’t bother.” The commander stated as he walked in front. “If you cooperate, we won’t hurt your friends.”

You couldn’t help the scoff, “Oh, like what you did to Steve? I’m sure he was cooperating, yet he’s bloody and can’t see out of one eye! So you’re lucky I’m tied up 'cause I’m just waiting for the moment where I can sink my thumbs into your eyes.” Venom dripping from your words, not fucking around anymore. The older man just laughed, head thrown back in pure glee at your words.

He looked over his shoulder and shook his head with an annoying smile, “You are funny. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Another door opened and you were brought inside. They threw you down onto a metal bench that was built into the bare walls. The space was the size of your bathroom at home, tiny four walls boxing you in.

Commander stood tall with his hands held behind his back, an ugly mug staring you down, a shadow from his hat shading his dark eyes. The goons, one on each side, kept their arms down and fingers curled into fists. You can already tell how you’re gonna look coming out of this.

“Who do you work for?” He sounded bored of asking the same question that you assumed he asked Steve multiple times.

“I work for Scoops Ahoy. The ice cream shop in the mall above us, guys, come on. Get some sunlight or you’ll-” Goon to your right stepped forward and threw a hard punch to your stomach making you lean over your thighs. You groaned as the air was pushed from your lungs while talking. “Fuck… you.”

He huffed a humorless laugh, “You are a feisty girl. Don’t worry, you’ll break quickly.” He nodded at thing two and he swung a fist into your jaw. Your head turned with the impact and it took a second for the white-hot pain to register in your brain. Wiggling the bone trying to asset the pain and possible damage, you heard a crack but nothing serious. “Who do you work for?”

The eye-roll you sent was like you honed the spirit of Erica when she didn’t get her free raspberry swirl sample. “I work in an ice cream parlor dealing with grouchy moms and obnoxious middle schoolers. Do- Do you think I wear this for fun?” Pointing out your sailor costume.

His eyes drilled into your skull as he asked, “How did you get here?”

“Look, grandpa, our shipment was missing. So me and my friends checked where it was dropped off, the door was open so we went inside to check for it. Then it closed and dropped us to the pits of hell. And I’m still out of rocky road ice cream.” Head leaned against the cold wall as you sighed. So you were caught off guard by another punch to your face, aimed at your cheek from the right. Another hit to your ribs followed, then another, and another. You couldn’t even get a steady breath before it sputtered out of your mouth.

Boney fingers grip your chin, mouth pursed and brows angled at the front. His spit splattered your lower face as he harshly repeated, “Who do you work for and how did you get here?” A low groan, “Do you need hearing aids?” Voice even and grated with his tight hold, “I sell ice cream and I was looking for a shipment.”

He dropped your chin. His back was turned and he flicked a hand at the guy to the left. He took five steps then punched you right in the nose, the crunch echoing in the four-by-four room. Your skull was pounding from all the hits it took in quick succession, the broken nose, and blood the cherry on top. Eyes closed with your head tilted back to slow the blood, trying to stop any tears from showing up, and just wishing to see your mom at this moment.

“Well, it seems you and your friend have worked well on this… cover story. But don’t worry, we have something to loosen the tongue. Why don’t we rejoin your friends?” He barked commands, the door beeped open and you were dragged back to your starting spot.

The man was chuckling when he entered the room and you didn’t know why until you were harshly shoved in the back and fell to the floor, knees and palms hurting. You coughed a few times as you looked to see Steve and Robin on the floor, still tied to their chairs. Steve was awake now and you just sighed, letting your head rest on the cool ground.

“Where were you two going?” Acting like he was doing a stand-up set. He tutted his teeth as they were picked up from the ground and then you were tied to the dentist-style chair. Their doctor was messing around with something.

“Baby?” Steve’s voice was rough, it made you sad thinking about all the screaming he must have done. You tilted your head towards him with a bloody grin, “Hi, Stevie.”

“What happened?” And he sounded so broken. All you could do was shrug, “I told the truth.”

“Yes, try to tell the truth. It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful.” Grime reapers hand was touching Steve’s face and hair, poking at his tender spots. “Get your filthy hands off my boy! You fucking corpse!” Bound feet hitting the vinyl of the seat.

He chuckles before stepping away and the doctor wanders toward Steve with a needle in hand and a mad scientist looks buzzing within his gaze. “Wait, wait. What- What is that?” Evil Russian scientist simply said, “It will help you talk.” He gripped Steve's hair and leaned his head to his shoulder and stuck the needle in. “Steve! Steve! What the fuck?!”

He grabbed a second needle and did the same thing to Robin. Then finally you were last, whimpering as the long scarp point pierced the skin of your neck and injected whatever it was. “Now we wait.” And they left the room.

You weren’t sure what the hell the crazy doctor poked you with, but you could already feel something flowing through your system. Your eyelids were getting heavy causing you to blink multiple times trying to keep them open and aware. Head felt fuzzy, almost like the room was spinning. “What the…Am I high?” What if they just injected thc into your bloodstream… is that even a thing?

“Honestly, I don’t feel anything,” Steve mumbled. “Do you?” Question pointed to Robin as they learned their heads together. “I mean, I… I feel fine. I feel normal.” “Yeah, I feel- I feel fine.”

They were quiet for a moment, eyes watching the wall. You felt a mix of wanting to sleep and wanting to throw up, your body giving up its fight against your restraints.

“I feel good,” Steve chuckled, which caused Robin to chuckle. With your eyes closed you could only hum at their joyish sounds.

“Wanna know a secret?” Robin’s voice is up an octave. “What?” A low mutter from you, but Steve asked louder. “I like it, too!” More laughter fills the room. “I missed being high,” Head lulling on your heavy neck as you talked lowly to yourself.

“Morons. They messed up the drug.” “They messed it up!”

“Morons.” “Hey, morons!” “Morons!” All three of you constantly calling them morons, voices yelling and only reaching your ears.

“Oh, no. There’s definitely something wrong with us.” Robin mussed. “Something’s wrong,” All Steve repeated.

The loud buzzing stopped all conversation and giggling. A guard with a gun, grime reaper, and doctor psycho waltz into the room. The doctor had a black bag that he sent on a table before pulling things out one by one, like Mary Poppins. The commander stood in front of Steve like earlier, hands behind his back and stone-faced.

“Am I- Am I getting a lobotomy? Dad always said- said it was a choice. Cause of my- my problem.” Humorless chuckles as that conversation bounced in your cranium. A sigh in defeat.

“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?” And you can’t decipher if Robin is serious or just joking.

They didn’t play into either of your questions. Just cutting to the chase, “Let’s try this again, yes? Who do you work for?”

“Scoops,” Saying the word like a melody. Steve also restated, “Scoops Ahoy.” And you just laughed.

“How did you find us?” “Question two already?” Blurted from your mouth. “Totally by accident.” All Steve said.

A deep sigh followed by Russian. With hooded eyes, you watched as the doctor grabbed a silver tool and walked toward Steve and Robin. “What is that shiny little toy?” “Where you going with that, doc?” Babbling words.

He grabbed Steve’s hand, “Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Wait! No! Wait! Wait!”

“There was a code! We heard a code!” Robin yelled over Steve’s panic. The Russians shared a look and the commander walked to Robin’s side. “Code? What code?” And Robin repeated the phrase she translated within a day. “You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day!”

“Well, really just you.” Babbled to boost Robin’s ego. She continued on her tangent, “You think you’re so smart, but a couple of kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day, and now, people know you’re here.”

“Who knows we are here, little bitch?” His temper was short.

“Uh, well Dustin knows.” Oh. Oh, yeah that’s not good. “Hey, Steve?” “Stevie, don’t-” Both you and Robin tried to get him to stop but he wasn’t picking up any hints. “Yeah, Dustin Henderson, he knows.” “Steve!” Robin yelled. He just laughed, not knowing he just threw a kid under the bus.

“Dustin Henderson.” The Russian repeated, “It is your small, curly-haired friend?”

“How do you know?” Wondering if he was safe was interrupted by Steve, “Oh, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kind of like a ‘fro. Yeah.”

“Where is he?” So that answered your question on his safety. He and Erica were safe or- “He’s long gone, you big asshole. And he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US cavalry.” Which you suggested should have been step two instead of…what is this? Step eight? “They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.” Steve snickered after letting his tongue roll.

Your eyes tracked how the man crouched down and leaned close to Steve. “Is that so?” Not believing a word from Steve’s mouth. Steve, even drugged, was acting cocky. “Yeah.” The one word brought back the giggles of Robin and Steve as you lay motionless.

Everyone was laughing, two drugged people not fully aware of their surroundings and two dangerous people who don’t give a shit what happens to them. And you’re just watching from the sidelines, high off your ass and strapped down. And fearing for the worse, the sound of that loud blaring alarm went off, forcing all voices to stop and look towards the door.

The commander eyed all three of you before rushing out of the room only leaving the doctor behind. You hoped for backup and not a natural disaster ready to kill you. There were still snickers from Steve or Robin before the door slammed open and a yelling Dustin with a weapon came barreling in. He zapped the doctor in the chest before he fell to the floor unconscious. Three seconds of silence and then Steve cheered, “Hey! Henderson! That’s crazy, I was just talking about you.”

Dustin and Erica were busy untieing Steve and Robin and you were getting antsy. “Get ready to run,” Dustin informed them. “Hello? Help! Please!” Worried they might leave you behind. Erica came to your aid when Robin was freed and stumbling like a baby deer.

“Baby! Oh, baby!” Steve cried for you as he threw his arms over your shoulders. “Gross! Now come on!” Dustin pushed the both of you out of the room. He ran ahead while you held Steve’s hand and pulled him behind you.

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*STRIKED MEANS TUMBLR CANT FIND YOU*

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