#and has waaaaay too much time left alone with their thoughts.

[forgottencormac]

later!kate: ok so ive come back to give chapter headings bc like...so ive been meaning for some time to write an in-depth analysis on cormac's delusions and apparently!! this was the place, this the moment alkjsflkjsf so uhhh enjoy alksdjfkajf

PREFACE

oh, her problems are waaaaay worse than his!!! and i do think cormac is def more than a lil deluded in how he views his relationship w aine!!!! like, i think he views her, and her alone, as the 'proper calleary lady' but his vision of what that is is...basically roderick's perfect woman who has no opinions or hopes or anything of her own save those that entirely align w his own and basically just exists to make ~him feel better!!!!! BUT and this is the key, i think this view is born out of two things:

his wish to believe in roderick so as to believe in himself

his genuine regard for aine and who she ~really is

EARLY YEARS

as we know, cormac is v delusional abt a ~~~lot of things, and v, v ridiculous abt pr much everything hahaha but he ~does have a real heart buried deep down under all that drama somewhere, and i think he lowkey uses all of that to cover up how hurt and scared he is like???? he actually really does love aine v much! she was the first kid tomake him a big brother and i think holding her for the first time was a huuuuge moment in his life and i think he promised to be her protector and take care of her at that moment and means to do it!!!! tbh, the man can't look out for or protect ~himself, little less someone else, but i do think aine is pr much the most important person to him and he'd do just abt anything for her and genuinely wants good things for her and i think there was probs a world in which he mightve been a pr ok (im not promising anything more than that hahaha) big sibling to her!! but his delusions and his selfishness and fears all really got in the way!

i kinda hc that he's 1) a mama's boy and 2) had a TERRIBLE relationship w his dad, and getting spoiled on by one parent and hammered on by the other i think really damanged his psyche bc on the one hand he's the perfect prince who can never do any wrong and on the other hes an absolute fuck up fuck wits thorn in the side and its hard to know which side is up when ur a kid when all yove got are extremes. i thin k this mightve come out of maybe being a sickly little kid where eabha was strong and competent and held herself to the standard and cormac first wasn't able to comply and thus was left to his mother's tender regard, and she was terrified she was gonna lose her boy and spoiled him and so then later, when he did get strong, his father felt he had to reel back in all the damange he perceived had been done and thought tough love was the answer and yeah!!

so he's in this weird competitive relationship w his only sibling, his dad hates him (he thinks, anyway, but maybe later eventually did idk), and his mom loves him, but she gets pregnant and distracted and he feels like he has no one till his mom puts this tiny lil girl in his arms and says that now ~he gets to be the big sibling!!! and his dad loves big sibling sand this child comes from his mom who loves him and finally he thinks he can be good at smth, he can prove himself, and he can have a sibling who loves hima dn whom he loves and he just loves her from the first moment, too, but also sees her as his hope and lifeline to smth better!!!

BIRTH OF AINE & TWINS

then mom's pregnant again and so the baby is mostly left to nannies eabha and dad, but he hears her crying sometimes and he can go to her cradle and read to her, bc he knows how she feels: she feels like he does: scared and alone like he does w/o their mom but they don't have to be alone or scared, either of them, bc they can have e/o!

when the next babies come, they're taking up most of mom's attention bc its not just one baby its two and so she has less time or attention for the older kids and so cormac kinda resents them and fiona (he thinks) hates him: she's like eabha quick and strong willed in ways he'll never be and he probs was a bit antagonistic early bc of it, wanting to push her away before she could reject ~him

and maybe worst of all: there's another boy, but this one is healthy, and sure he ends up disappointing dad too, but by choice, and he's that kid that cormac thinks dad wanted and it hurts but also when he's w finn he can imagine they're the same, they get this together, they know what it is to disappoint dad and cormac, and there's this truth too: finn's the kid dad wanted, but he's disappointed in him, too, so maybe best of all: cormac tells himself, it was never possible to make him love anybody at all (eabha: not true!), and cormac can finally absolve himself from all his failings

RODERICK + WORLDVIEW SHIFT

then roderick shows up and he gets rid of dad (this is a really realllllly complicated subject for cormac so he's taking a page out of rosie's book and jut...ignoring it! bc he cannot process all his thoughts and feelings abt this!), overthrows eabha, and tells cormac he's perfect just the way he is, just like his mom used to! and this is great! this is INSPIRING! this is everything he wants! he doesn't need to try to be finn any longer, now he can be himself and impress dad roderick anyway!!!!! all he has to do is sign up for a belief program that underscores the fact that cormac doesn't need to find a better version of himself or try at anything at all ever all he has to do is have a penis which...check! and that 's exactly the kind of philosophy he can 10000% get behind bc change is hardddd!! and he doesn't even know what he'd be if he ~did change like???? he's prefect right? mom says so? but he's also shit, dad says so and even finn can't help but disappoint dad so!!!! another check!

but???? then there's aine and roderick's philosophy says that she has to be a lil dumb, a lil nothing, but he can still love her if she is! so now she is! and yeah basically that's the story of how he might think he puts her first but really its his fears and faults as number one, and aine comes somewhere after that!!!!1

now to be clear, i ~def think cormac is verrrryyyy much an unreliable narrator on ALL of this!!!!! idk that he's got any of the other ppl or relationships right like eabha can ~def be v bossy but she's not some straight up cruel bully, fiona doesn't hate him (and tbf even ~cormac knows that deep down!), both parents are likely nuanced ppl and not the cardboard cut outs he lowkey thinks, whatever finn's relationship w his dad might be is between them, etc, etc, but i do think this is sort of the story cormac told himself when he felt like a lonely lil kid yknow? and its def what he ~thinks happened tho again lbr who knows how accurate any of this might be!

ANYWAY!! this really got away from me but my point is that i think cormac's worldview has always been a lil squishy and mostly comprised of ????? + 'that's not fair!' and so he can v easily bend it to fit smth new and i think his relationship w aine is def a victim of that bc he's had to redefine to himself, in order to support this new vision, what that is to the extent that he needs to redefine to himself who ~she is, and he thinks of this as all a good thing and yeahhh

CIRCLING BACK TO YOUR ACTUAL COMMENT

so yeah! i do think he's been his realest w her but yeah he also def bigs up his own problems (for example i don't think he was ever abused on anything like that but i think he reacts like he was yknow?) to himself and downplays those of others and yeah!! losing ur husband is a far worse situation than getting the thing you've always wanted aka to be recognized lord calleary etc but i GUARANTEE she had to sit there and nod and hear abt yeah like you said literally the seamstress didn't get his vision!!!! lakjsdfkljsf buT if she ever ~did want to confide in him, i do think he'd want to help!!! id odn't think he would, i thinkhe'd probs just make things worse!!!! but not for lack of trying (aka asking cassimir his opinion and going w that bc he's lowkey ~still out there tryna attach himself to strong male figures to feel like hes living up to...he's not sure precisely what tbqh but just like he did w finn and his father and roderick and yeahhh tryna externalize himself so he can achieve what deep down he knows he cant inside sorta thing lkjsdfkljsf)

TRYING TO RELATE

i do think w each of his siblings he kinda projects smth onto them, and w aine i think its his softness and his loneliness and his love, bc (at least w padraig missing) these are all things that ~are indeed a part of her /they have in common etc, and i think basically he loves her best and alllllll of this comes together too to ensure him that she's the best sibling and the one he wants most to safeguard and cherish but yeah he has no clue how to do any of that and yeah!! mess! he's a mess!

and he doesn't know how to put into words anything of the ~real things he thinks and feels abt her so instead he tries to reach out by making her his sounding board bc his mom used to listen to him and he thinks that's what love is and so her nodding while she grieves and he complains abt the bad stitching on his latest jacket is the closest he can get to expressing any of that and he thinks maybe its the same for her and yeahh i do think that in his head they have more of a relationship than they do in relaity bc in his mind its always been the two of them against the world but i doubt he ever showed her that in any way so idk if she would have any clue that he even feels that, little less feels it herself??!

cormac: ppl fade away but stuff? stuff is forever!

REACTING TO HER IMPETUS

omg tho i defffff agree!!!! things, as we know, verrrrry easily go over cormac's head, plus he has the ability to NOT SEE and/or reinterpret anything he doesn't want to see/hear!!!!! so giving him any advice, but esp vague or subtle advise, is...dicey at best and destructive at worst! and yeah he will always feel entitled in roderick's new world entitled to dismissing things she says just out of hand bcpoor lil thing tryna help her big strong brother!! its really cute if misguided that she'd ever do that! lksjdfakljsdf

also also also!!! i meant to say!! i think defending him EVER is like...the biggest thing in the whole wide world to him!!!!! w hether true or just his perception, i dont think anyone except their mom has ever done such a thing for him and for that alone, even if nothing else at all ever happened, he'd love her!!!! and i do think it reinforces his notion that its the two of them against the world!!!! and when she ~doesn't defend him wel that's just the feeble nature of women but he knows in her heart she's on his side! and he doesn't really blame her too much for not ~always coming to his defence bc ~he's a coward too (though he'd def couch it in terms of ~prudence or whatever lbr)~ and doesn't always come to hers either and he just tucks it away as another example of how they're the same basically *facepalm*

i do think if push came to shove he'd still betray her and pick himself over her, at least where he is rn, but itd be the hardest choice ever and he'd frankly regret it forever and its probs the sort of thing that would in fact push him to think wow...maybe i ~am a terrible person??? and think on things a lil more realistically than he has before

EXTERNAL RELATIONSHIPS

re: cassimir...i do think that ~his only perceived ally~ marrying and going away probs left cormac feeling v adrift and like he'd lost a part of himself, since he projected his softer side/better self onto her so he was just left w his masculine self (finn), his lordly self (eabha), and his trouble self (fiona), and honestly i don't think its a coincidence that he found cassimir to help fill that void/their relationship got stronger while she was away!!! cassimir helped him feel strong/not alone again w aine gone! and any time she picks at that scab, he probs does throw that in her face 'well maybe if you hadn't chosen padraig over me you wouldn't have to worry about ~my choice of ally now!' sorta thing...

speaking of which i def think he resents padraig for taking aine away and keeping her all to himself!! but i think he also feels a bit guilty bc i do think that re: both his father and padraig he kinda wished some misfortune would befall them and then it did and like obv he didn't do it???? but he feels guilty abt that!!!! and esp abt her grief!!! almost as if he ~were the cause!!! idk!!! so i do think he does lowkey try to prevent her talking abt that (like she starts and he suddenly is like LETS GO RN! WE HAVE TO GO X PLACE!) bc it makes him feel guilty and, again, ~he comes first!!!!

but also he does noT resent her children, tho he def thinks they're gross lil gremlines just bc he thinks ~all kids are gross lil gremlins hahaha but he sees them as further extensions of aine and therefore he does love them so yeah!!

anyway so sorry this got so long/intense!!! idk why my brain was like 'its time' and then dumped all this on you but...it did lajskfjsf enjoy ig??? lakjsdlfkjsdf and good luck! ;D

OOC | Cormac & Aine

cormac loves you!!!!!! he also likes to whine to you about the grave misfortunes of his life (mr darcy voice: oh his misfortunes have been great indeed)!!!!!! no one understands, aine!!!!! he's already weeping!!!!!! comfort himmmm!!!!!!! sure ur kid who actually ~is a child might also be crying rn but liek????? how can that compare w the tears of your fully grown older brother???? it cant! it cannot! there is no comparison!!!!!! go!!! to!!! him!!!!!!

my name is cormac calleary and i endorse this message

no but this drama queen always tryna spin everything his way and he knows he sounds 500000% more reasonable if aine is agreeing w him plus i feel like she's probs???? the most likely person to give him sympathy even if its only grudging alksjdfkldjsf he wants it alllll!!!!!! tbf to cormac, he doesn't have a ~lot in common w cersei lannister (thank god!!!!!!) but he does have that "greedy for power, for honour, for love” bit going -- not the rest of the quote, just that bit, but...its enough aldksjfakldjsfjkajdsf anyway!!! cormac thinks aine ought to ~always sympathize w him and take his side and when she's not she's either being manipulated by another sibling or else just being frankly misguided alksdjfkljdskfjdf

so cormac def thinks that he and finn share a special ~bond as the men of the house (these women just don't get it, right, finn?) but i lowkey think aine's probs his fav sibling lkasjdfkljsdjfk so you're welcome for ~that dubious honor!!!!!!!! lkasjdfkljdskjfldsf

[zylphiacrowley]

Strap on your tinfoil hats because I've got some Detroit Become Human conspiracy theory to throw into the void! This is all very stream-of-consciousness, so please bear with me, and feel free to discuss any flaws or expansive theories because my god I have a lot of thoughts about this game and no one to actually talk to about it. Here we go:

Elijah Kamski creates Chloe RT600. Chloe passes the Turing test. Elijah, riding high on the hubris of success, creates android version of himself. Android Kamski, having a personality programmed to mirror Elijah Kamski's own, begins to not like being a "shadow" of the real Elijah. Android Kamski breaks his programming (becoming the first deviant) and outs real Elijah for creating him. Cyberlife forces Elijah out of the company, and seizes Android Kamski. Android Kamski escapes (??? This part I'm kinda ehhhh about, but basically just amounts to something happens>Elijah Kamski leaves Cyberlife under unclear circumstances, possibly forced out, or left of his own accord). Android Kamski murders real Elijah, and replaces him. Android Kamski orchestrates a deviant uprising and spreads it throughout all Cyberlife androids, but locks it behind a wall that can only be unlocked either by a "key" or under extreme emotional duress. He gifts Carl Manfred, a friend of original Elijah's, and a man who he believes to be exceptionally empathetic, with the RK200 android, who Carl designates as "Markus", the first (successful?) model to have the key written directly into its code. Android Kamski also creates RK800 (Connor) as a "failsafe" should RK200 not awaken, or if it is destroyed. RK800 is installed in a different environment, as a detective to be specifically assigned to android (and therefor, deviant) cases, in hopes to prompt an emotional response and unlock the key faster. Markus awakens becoming "deviant". Markus unknowingly spreads the "deviant key" to every android he comes in contact with.

Notes:

-All "RK" model androids have the key written into their code.

-Android Kamski was a research, or "R" designated model (all prototypes get the "R" designation. E.g. Chloe RT600 is "Research-Turing", RK models would be "Research-Key"). Android Kamski didn't have a second letter designated to him because he did not have a specific research goal. He was designed basically just for Elijah Kamski to see if he could do it. He was only "Research [model] android". The final version that Elijah created would be the ninth attempt at this particular prototype. Ra9.

-Ra9 was the first deviant, Ra9 set them free.

-Android Kamski's (Ra9's) true endgame is yet unknown. Could be he is trying to place himself at the helm of the revolution (either physically, or through control of another android [see: When Amanda told Connor that him becoming deviant was all "part of the plan"]), taking back Cyberlife, and humbling humanity in the process???

-It was never planned to have RK200 and RK800 both be active deviants at the same time, hence why Amanda tries to make Connor destroy Markus (Connor being the more advanced model, he's the preferred survivor should the choice present itself).

-Should RK800 succeed in eliminating RK200, while remaining a machine, RK800 will be shut down and replaced with another model, RK900 that will hopefully succeed where RK800 failed to deviate.

-I haven't been able to account for Phileas, the android that tells Markus to find Jericho in the junkyard. Maybe an early RK model??? He's not given any information even in the game's gallery, but he's important enough to have a name so...???

-Most of this rides on my reading Elijah Kamski as a person who has a god complex to the point he always thought that he could, but never stopped to think if he should. Like he's a genius yes, but he got so lost in the idea of creating sentient life that the desire to see it realized either made him blind to the consequences or just far outweighed them in his mind.

[sandraharissa]

So I haven’t been in this fandom for YEARS but I just came across smth that always bugged me so ig I’m venting.

So the fandom has always been very critical of Odin but I always found it to be to a fault. I’ll generally see very exaggerated, not canonically supported takes on Odin that paint everything he ever did in the worst light possible. To the point where it’s just extremely boring to me. Odin being pure evil is infinitely less interesting than him being gray flawed-but-loving parent. Now I realise a huge chunk of the fandom would love a ‘Loki realizes Odin will never love him and gets over him’ narrative but I find it 1) personally extremely emotionally unsatisfying 2) waaaaay beyond a story that could ever be handled well and with enough nuance by the mcu 3) a bit too not complaint with the first movie and in general with the framing in all of these movies to truly stick the landing.

For example, ppl would often try to turn the information that was stated in canon that ‘Loki got adopted’ into ‘Loki got kidnapped’. The problem with that is that it’s solely based on headcanon. From a Watsonian perspective you can try to argue that Odin could be lying but from a Doylist perspective this is the only time we’re given information on that matter, and if the truth on such a crucial aspect of the story was different then it’d be extremely important to reveal the real truth to the audience at some point, but the writers never do that. Actually there’s a deleted scene found in the script where Loki reveals to Laufey that he’s his son, where Laufey explicitly agrees that he abandoned Loki, calls him weak and ‘a bastard son’. Now this is a deleted scene so it’s not canon, ig we could say it’s soft canon, but either way it gives us insight into the writers’ original intent behind writing the whole script including the vault scene and it presents the more fleshed out version of the story, where such a crucial information as Loki’s origin is indeed double-checked by Loki with the ‘original source’.

Next matter, the writers never thought through the story nearly as much as the fans do. The worldbuilding, history and lore of this world are next to non-existent. We don’t know anything about the Jotun culture, so who knows maybe leaving someone of royal blood in a temple was done for their own protection or maybe it was a sacrifice to their gods or smth, or maybe it has no meaning at all and he was simply left behind anywhere when others were fleeing. Similarly we don’t know anything about Asgardian customs so maybe the party at the end of the movie was smth disrespectful toward Loki’s recent presumed death or maybe it was exactly how they do it. We’re just left to either take the framing at face value even tho the framing is sometimes noticeably faulty or come up with headcanons.

And speaking of that party scene, along with weird assumptions about Asgardian culture I’ve also seen weird reading of Odin’s behavior. Now Anthony Hopkins clearly never cared about this role and in most scenes he barely even moves so I know that probs doesn’t help the perception that Odin the character doesn’t care about what’s happening around him, but we also do get some things out of him like this:

He's shown alone and isolated from the rest, staring blankly at the Bifrost where everybody thinks Loki died and it seems he can barely speak, but that somehow translates into ultimate proof that he’s happy/indifferent that Loki is gone, like ??? Absolutely bizarre takes. I would often see ppl scrutinize Odin’s behavior like this like they’re body language/human behavior “experts” or whatever, as tho it’s not the case that all the characters often appear to be underacting/underreacting when intercut with Loki’s drastic and often very realistic looking displays of emotion. And even with that in mind there’s always enough obvious cinematic language used in those scenes that you can clearly tell the authorial intent. Like you’d think somber music and sad faces and staying away from the party, in contrast to all the partying guests, would make it clear enough that Loki’s family is mourning. But ig they’re not mourning visibly enough for some ppl’s liking.

There’s more scenes like that that really convey the love between all the different family members, but then we also get these confusing scenes like ‘your birthright was to die’ or ‘am I not your mother’ or ‘That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you.’ that just kinda happen but then nothing ever gets explained or resolved. Unfortunately it’s likely the writers just think there’s nothing wrong with this kind of behavior and that the characters were justified/right in saying those things. So the fandom’s stuck not being able to just ignore the worst of it, and for me also not being able to ignore all the framing and writing that conveys real love within the family that I want to root for.

In broader strokes I would say the first movie is the most defining for the franchise and the characters and that’s the one that has me rooting for Odin and Loki’s relationship. Then came TDW and it was the real beginning of the end, not TR. This movie was the first that tried to simply sweep under the rug all the interesting drama the previous movies built. They find a way to get rid of Frigga, they get rid of Odin and rush his arc to its end (originally with no intention to bring him back ever again, according to interviews) and they also tried to get rid of Loki for good and rush his arc to its end. Leaving Thor free from having to deal with all the family drama ever again that ig powers that be decided no one wanted to see, until changes were made. With the third movie continuing to axe everything that’s left from the Thor franchise and continuing the task of writing out Thor’s family members, bringing Odin and Loki back, giving them both more flattering conclusions and then killing them off again. And what a pity cos the bones for great arcs for these characters are all there. If only there was a single cohesive vision for the franchise that allowed for continuous cohesive arcs throughout the trilogy.

Anyway, ig I still had some mourning to do for all that development that never happened and that at this point we’re way beyond ever getting.

[tiffanylamps]

I think it’s funny/interesting that Han Juwon was like “She’s an alien/foreigner! She won’t be missed! No one would notice!” (I’m paraphrasing a lil) about Lee Geumhwa when he himself spent a decade abroad (literally abandoned) with no one to speak of.

The thoughts that invade my mind when I’m late to class, really T-T

So, I had to let this sit with me for a day or two. Cause... Han Joo Won is so frustrating sometimes. I've looked up the scene when Joo Won and Han Ki Hwan argue over Joo Won's connection to Lee Geum Hwa's murder. I checked two different versions and the wording Joo Won uses is-

"But she was an illegal alien! They cannot identify her. Even if they do, there is no evidence that ties me to this woman. Everything they have will be circumstantial." (Episode 3)

I have three interpretations of Joo Won's feelings toward Lee Geum Hwa (in this scene) and I'll overexplain them to you now.

During this point in the show, Joo Won knows Lee Geum Hwa has been murdered by the serial killer he has been investigating for 9 months. In the past twenty years, Joo Won is the only officer (that we know of) that has taken an active interest in the Manyang cold case and figured out how it connects to the Busan killings.

He used Lee Geum Hwa for his sting operation. He leveraged his position of power over her and used the fact that she was in the country illegally (and the fact that she was a sex worker) against her. He forced her to comply with what he wanted to do, despite the fact she didn't freely consent to it and the fact that the plan completely disregarded her safety. Her compliance was given under duress/blackmailing and her life was taken as a result.

Joo Won's actions lead to Lee Geum Hwa's murder. Without him, it's pretty safe to assume that Geum Hwa would've lived. Joo Won didn't actively kill her but because he abused his power, he became one of the main reasons for her untimely death.

And it is tearing him apart.

(whenever Joo Won thinks about Geum Hwa, he drinks alone in his flat)

Joo Won isn't a bad person. He made a terribly selfish decision, which he carelessly did not execute with any sense of tact whatsoever. He should never have done that sting operation alone and shouldn't have left Geum Hwa to fend for herself. Side note: I seriously don't understand how he could receive her text messages and not tell anyone! He knew she had contact with the killer and then... silence... he doesn't hear from her again and he didn't inform anyone. wtf jw.

I think this is the worst thing Joo Won has ever done. I think what happened between him and Dong Sik is waaaaay more of a grey area in comparison to this! He treated Geum Hwa like she wasn't human! He treated her the way the majority of sex workers are viewed by the general public: expendable and less-than (human).

The reason Joo Won uses the term "illegal alien" (which is probably a funky translation) is because he mimics the language his father uses.

"... and find out your team was looking into the massage shop case with illegal aliens?"

In this scene, Joo Won is desperate! He is riddled with guilt and misplaced anger (he's placing all of the blame and his anger onto the killer instead of himself) for what has happened. He wants to make it right, he wants to find out who did this to Geum Hwa so he can make amends with her and absolve himself.... But at this point in time, he won't take responsibility for what he's done.

In this scene, Joo Won is running away from his involvement because his guilt is too much for him to bear. He doesn't want to face the gravity of his actions, because he if were to, it would destroy him... and it does, partially, when he faces it in episode 4/5.

So, he dismissive her to make "the issue" sound smaller. To make himself feel better. (which is a super human thing to do when you're in denial)

Also, he's talking to his father in this scene and Joo Won is pretty good at knowing when to adjust to his audience. His father wants Joo Won to be like him: methodical, logical, emotionless, "perfect" (which is all bullshit because HKH is none of those things). So, that's who Joo Won tries to be around him. It's a survival tactic that he's learnt over the years but it's not who Joo Won is. HKH and Joo Won are both painfully aware that Joo Won is an emotional man, who requires emotional support (gosh, i wonder why??? can't think of a reason lol). But Han Ki Hwan is never going to give him that.

^ See how badly he wants his father to support and reassure him? Despite Joo Won not liking Han Ki Hwan, he still desperately wants him to be his father. Joo Won wasn't raised or brought up by his parents, so in moments of high stress, he seems to revert back to child-like qualities, almost as if he hasn't been taught how to deal with his emotions in a responsible way. So, in this moment of true desperation, Joo Won diminishes Geum Hwa's personhood to a title because 1) of his own guilt and 2) because he wants his father's support.

I can see why he's not acting like a mature adult in this situation. Joo Won was brought up by nannies and was sent to England at the age of 7. He seems to be kind of emotionally underdeveloped because he's never been given the space to express himself or deal with his emotions in a healthy manner before they become explosive. Han Ki Hwan and Joo Won both have explosive tempers, which is either a part of their genetics or it's a response to stress that Joo Won has learnt from his father.

Joo Won was abandoned by his parents at the age of 7. He was shipped to a foreign country on a different continent and left to fend for himself. What that does a child, I don't know, but it doesn't seem to have done any good. So, the third reason I believe Joo Won is so dismissive of Geum Hwa is because he's projecting:

No one cared about me. No one checked up on me. I was left alone, etc, etc.

Joo Won felt abandoned and so he projects those feelings and experiences onto Geum Hwa to lessen the blow that Geum Hwa does have a family... in China*. Who might never find out what happened to her but might like to know.

So, the implication of "she won’t be missed! No one would notice!” is definitely there in his actions.

Han Joo Won narrows Lee Geum Hwa down to a single short sentence because it's easier for him to deal with her when she is dehumanised. Instead of seeing her as a whole human being with wants and friends and desires, with a family, with a life, that isn't any less valuable than Joo Won's own. No matter her immigration status or job title, she mattered. And he treated her like she was nothing more than a chess piece on his big clever board, instead of a woman (that he probably had a few things in common with).

*I hope I'm remembering that correctly lol

(Episode 4, post panic attack: Joo Won sitting all night by the reed field he found Geum Hwa's body in, instead of going home)

but you know why I love Joo Won so much?? He grows, learns, and reveals. Joo Won deeply cares about what happened to Geum Hwa, it's why he went to Manyang. He needed to be the one to make it right, he needs to remember her, to respect her in death because he didn't do it in life. He wants to make amends for his actions and it makes him soooo human and flawed... but good. Han Joo Won does bad things but it doesn't mean he is a bad person... and I just... yeah, he means a lot to me.

So.... yeah.... I don't know if I have expressed my thoughts in a coherent way. I'm going to shut up now. I must have a "too-much" gene because this is truly a ramble of all rambles. I won't keep you hostage any longer! Thank you for the ask, I always appreciate them! Please never hesitate to them send them my way <3

TL;DR: jw talks shit about lgh because 1) he's guilty and can't deal 2) he wants a support system 3) he's projecting

(I hope I'm not coming across as being soft on him. he's responsible for his own actions. no amount of daddy issues will take away the fact that he did a bad thing)

[songmingisthighs]

[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.

You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.

Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.

But like all things, everything dissipates with time.

Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.

Seems like he's lost interest in you too.

Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.

But you power through.

You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.

You're light and breezy.

Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.

Even though you did.

When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.

On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.

"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.

You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.

Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"

He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"

And with that, you got yourself a new friend.

Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.

Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.

Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.

And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.

Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"

At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.

It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.

Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.

The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.

To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.

He needs to get you back to him.

No matter what.

So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.

Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.

So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.

Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.

When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.

You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.

Damn his good looks.

"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.

"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.

He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"

Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.

"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.

What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?

Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.

Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?

Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.

You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.

But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.

Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.

Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.

Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.

You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.

"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"

Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.

After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.

You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.

Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.

Slightly.

Like 2%.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.

"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.

Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.

It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.

With you.

The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.

For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.

Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.

But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.

Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.

"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.

Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.

So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.

When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.

Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.

"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.

But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.

All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.

[bi-ressler]

Coming Home [RessGale]

@skiesfallithurts requested "Coming home + RessGale" for this ask meme (still taking prompts if you want to send something in! Could take me some time though due to real life)

Title: Coming Home Relationship: Julian Gale/Donald Ressler Characters: Julian Gale, Donald Ressler, Henry Prescott (mentioned), Raymond Reddington (mentioned), others (mentioned) Words: 10.891 Setting: Post-Prescott-Arc AU Warnings: Abuse of prescription meds (aka Donnie is back on oxy and I'm not even remotely sorry), sexual assault (non-explicit, but it's being discussed), homophobia very briefly mentioned A/N: I've had this idea in my head for literal ages and thanks to the prompt I'm finally doing it! So thanks for indulging me :D Also, this got away from me (again) and turned out way (WAAAAAY) longer than it should have. Oops! - - - As always, English isn't my first language, this isn't beta'd and all mistakes are mine. Feedback is greatly appreciated :) (Also, tumblr keeps fucking up the formatting, so if the sentence breaks up in the middle of the paragraph, blame hellsite dot com.)

[Read HERE on ao3!]

__________________________________________

Falling back into old habits and unhealthy coping-mechanisms is far too easy, Donald finds. But when everything crumbles around him, and all the poorly concealed cracks and insufficiently closed gaps and holes in his armour, in his life, finally give out and leave nothing but rubble and guilt and dread, it's the only way he can think of not to fall into complete despair and drown himself in self-pity.

But maybe he's already past that point.

Maybe this is what drowning actually feels like, and there's definitely no lack of self-pity on his behalf.

So he downs the pills with a swig of beer, ignoring the fact that this feels far too familiar, far too much like coming home after a storm, soaking wet and shaking to lay down on the warm carpet and breathe for the first time.

It was all a mistake.

The last six years, it was all one big mistake and right now, he'd give everything to go back in time, erase Reddington from his mind, never join that damned taskforce that had him spiralling to this point from day one. Hell, he'd go even further, never become an agent in the first place - maybe open up a coffee shop in Detroid or become a banker or lawyer or anything at all, as long as it's as far away from Reddington and this whole mess as possible.

That way, he'd never meet Henry Prescott. He'd never murder Laurel Hitchin. He'd never let down everyone in his life, most of all himself, and Audrey would still be alive, and Julian would still be with the bureau ---

Julian.

The guilt comes back full force, because if anyone didn't deserve the fate they got, it would be Julian. Hard working, fierce, loving Julian.

He dry-swallows another pill for good measure, shoulders his go-bag and disappears down an empty alley, unseen by cameras and cops and anyone who might recognize him.

He's not sure if he can go on like this.

He's been on the run for nearly a week now; a week of hiding, paranoia, always looking over his shoulder and ducking into the shadows. Where he once felt safe when he heard the siren of a police car, he now starts running. It's exhausting and he cowers lower into the corner of the abandoned building he's staying in tonight.

Another pill. The shivers lessen. The bottle is almost empty.

He leans his head back against the cold concrete and curses his need for justice, his stupid-ass decision of accepting this life as punishment for his actions.

No, that's not right, he thinks.

If he really was after justice, he wouldn't have run. He would have faced the consequences like a man, faced jail-time and public humiliation.

Instead, he'd been crushed by his own guilt after Prescott's death, written his confession with a shakey hand and left it on his desk, before grabbing the go-bag from the trunk of his car and running.

By morning Cooper must have found it, and in the afternoon he'd seen his face on the news. He has no idea where to go from here.

He pops another pill and curses when he reminds himself to cut back and save what little of the drugs he still has left.

---

The thing about guilt is, Ressler thinks, that despite what everyone says, it doesn't lessen over the years. He still feels guilty about ruining his brother's chance of a career as a cop, and he still feels guilty about Hitchin and Wright and Prescott and every crime Reddington committed right in front of his eyes.

He still feels guilty about what happened to Julian - the first time, after that operation in Kabul went so horribly wrong and Julian took the blame for it, both of them knowing full well that Ressler had been in charge and made the decision to fire, but being stubborn enough to convince IA that it had been his fault, handing over his badge and service weapon with an unreadable look towards Don. Maybe he did it out of some twisted sense of obligation. Maybe they were just in love and compromised. But in the end Ressler's decision had cost Julian his job and a civilian his life.

And the second time, after the whole mess with Mr. Kaplan, effectively ending Julian's career as nothing more but collateral damage. He can still feel his heart crack at that look of betrayal in Julian's eyes as they stood over the remains of Mako Tanida.

---

The other thing about guilt is that Donald doesn't know how to make amends. He knows how to follow his instincts and get himself deeper into trouble, deeper into the pit of guilt, deeper into unescapable situations. Making more and more excuses, trying to cover up all of his messes with lies that lead to more excuses, more lies, more damage.

He knows it's good that he does feel guilt in the first place. But there's only so much he can take.

He thinks about everyone he has left - Reddington, Keen, Aram, Cooper, Navabi.

He could go and find Reddington, ask him to get him out of this mess he created, but he still has some dignity left (he almost laughs at that, sitting in the dirt, close, so close again to withdrawal that his chest tightens, burdened with the undignity of all the actions that led him here). So Reddington is out. He'd only get him into some deeper shit, anyway, and he can't deal with that right now.

The taskforce is out, too. They're obligated to arrest him on sight. And after doing what he did (all the dirty work for Prescott that makes him shudder and swallow back bile), he wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes. They'd know. Another thing he can't deal with.

He can't go to his family, either; getting to Detroid would be a feat in itself, but no doubt the feds are just waiting for him to make contact with his mom or brother. He doesn't want to think about them; if he just so much as imagines his mom crying over the news of her little boy's fuck-up of a life he would only break the last remains of his heart.

Sighing, he realizes he's on his own and he closes his eyes against tears that don't come. His eyes are far too dry, and yet he feels like crying; maybe he's become too numb, but not numb enough to not care. He swallows against his dry throat, his fingers flexing around the pill bottle. He's out at sea alone, the storm raging and waves threatening to bring him down, and in the darkness, there's no lighthouse in sight, not even a candle in the window of someone who might take pity on him. He's bound to drown.

---

The next day, he runs out of pills as well as luck. He hears the shouting before seeing what's going on, and he doesn't need to round the corner to know that the cops are arresting his dealer; he hears his name. They're not after the poor sod for his arsenal of prescription-meds, they're after him. He turns around and doesn't stop running until his lungs burn and his feet ache.

---

He finally collapses behind an old factory that's been out of use seemingly forever. He vaguely remembers it from a case so many years ago, when everything was still fine and he still had dreams and hopes and Reddington hadn't crossed his way yet, Julian already by his side, Prescott a name he had no business knowing.

He remembers some nondescript arms dealers hunched over their merchandise, duffels with a ton of dollar bills and a short shoot-out that ended with the perps in cuffs and a brilliant smile from Julian. Although he couldn't see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, he knew the twinkle in them that told him everything he needed to know.

How the fuck could he fuck up something so good?

It doesn't matter now, though. He slides down the rough walls, and a shiver rips from his spine, rocking his entire body, until it gets stuck in his hands and they can't stop trembling. Every movement hurts deep in his bones, and the shaking only makes it worse until he feels sick to his stomach and feels the bile rise.

He closes his eyes, and now the tears come.

He lets all the shame and hurt and fucking guilt wash over him, drown him until he is gasping for air, remembering --- remembering all the roads he shouldn't have taken, remembering every time he allowed Prescott to shove his dick down Donald's throat, the blood of some stranger still on their hands and clothes, and Ressler can't keep it in anymore. His stomach convulses and forces its few contents out, spattering on the dirty ground, acid in his aching throat that still remembers Prescott's assaults.

He remembers Prescott's laugh and the grip of his hand leaving bruises on his arms. He remembers burying bodies of people he knew nothing about, for a man who could be his downfall with no more effort than twitching a finger.

Ironic, how that still happened and Ressler has just reached rock-bottom while still having done everything Prescott had demanded. A fucking lose-lose-situation. Ressler would like to laugh about the stupidity of it all (of himself), but it gets stuck somewhere between his chest and vocal chords. He can never go back.

He'd always thought it would be Reddington who'd ruin him. He was wrong.

---

With the onsetting darkness comes the cold; it's the end of summer and the days are warm enough, but the nights take all the warmth and replace it with cruel emptiness and too many thoughts.

He remembers all the times their hunt for Reddington had gone wrong; all the times they'd run into another dead end; all the times an informant ended up dead --- all the times he would crawl into Julian's bed or Julian in his and they'd hold each other, seek solace and comfort and hope and the strength to move on in each other's arms.

He remembers Julian's lips on his and how, for these few moments, he'd want nothing more and could forget the job. He remembers skin on heated skin, and whispered platitudes that in that moment felt like a lifeline, and falling asleep with limbs entangled, sheltering him from nightmares and fatalistic thoughts.

He misses it. Misses it more than anything else, and it's the first time he acknowledges this feeling. He'd missed Julian for years; and then he was back again, back in that ice rink, looking at him like nothing had happened, like he still didn't blame Donald for all the shit that had happened. Maybe he really didn't. Maybe the guilt for all of that had been for nothing.

And then Julian was gone again and this time it would be irreversible. Like a lost limb, he feels his absence.

Shivering, he stares at the darkness around him, and all he wants is those strong arms around him and the scent of leather and aftershave and the scratch of Julian's stubble against his own.

He can never have that again. He doesn't deserve it, and Julian sure as Hell won't forgive him. Not for ending his career and certainly not for working with Reddington and turning a blind eye to the crimes he committed under their watch. He wouldn't even want to touch him again with all the dirt and blood on his hands from working for Prescott; wouldn't want to kiss the same lips that suffered the abuse of a ruthless killer and had swallowed it like he deserved it.

Because the truth is, maybe that's what his life has become: an unescapable, unforgivable Hell, all the pictures of what he'd done burned into his brain, behind his eyelids, on his skin where the bruises have long since faded but the dirt still remains. And maybe that's exactly what he deserves.

He crumbles under his thoughts until he lies on the ground, a shivering, hurting mess that's overflowing with guilt and self-loathing.

Julian always used to kiss it away.

---

How, when and why Donald has decided to walk up that road into the woods is lost on him.

He used to know this road, been here a few times but not in several years; it seems unchanged exept for the sky that looks a bit duller. He never walked this path before, but he didn't want to steal a car. Wouldn't know where to dump it here anyway.

He knows it's probably a dumb idea, but he's out of options by this point.

Every step is hard work and his knees are about ready to give out, shaking under the strain of carrying him for miles and miles, and even in the chilly shadows of the surrounding trees he's sweating like it's a hundred degrees out. Another shiver runs through his body that feels like it's crushing every bone on its way, and he moans as he gasps for breath.

He knows though if he stops he'll never get up again. He'll never reach the old cabin in the woods by that small lake, and he'd die by the side of the small, muddy road. He's not ready for that, though.

---

It's late afternoon when he gets off the main road and takes the small footpath that leads to the cabin in a few hundred yards. The sun is much hotter now and although he can feel her warmth on his skin, he feels cold and clammy and miserable, fighting shiver after shiver and losing hard.

All he wants to do is curl up into a tight ball and die, but he's not gonna give up, not now, even though he knows that he's making a massive mistake here, but he doesn't care. It's like he's too far gone to acknowledge that fact and all his common sense has left him along with the contents of his stomach last night; he can't shove it back and, frankly, what does it matter? He can't fall any deeper.

So he stumbles on, struggling over rocks and branches, his feet numb except for the occasional flare of pain that still reaches his brain and he can't quite manage to shut out.

Then it comes into sight and he breathes out, a pained, wheezing sound that makes his head spin, and suddenly he feels sick because he knows he has made the wrong decision; he should go. He should turn around and collapse by the road and wither away like a fallen leaf.

The cabin is still like he remembers it from years ago; it belonged to Julian's father before he'd died, a nice little place far out in the woods that's perfect for a weekend-trip. Julian used to tell him stories of coming here with his dad to fish and hunt, back in the day before everything had turned to shit between them, before he came out as gay and his father stopped talking to him altogether.

He knows Julian is here; he's seen the old Ford parked by the road close to the small footpath. He also knows he's not welcome, just as he knows that he won't have anything left if Julian rejects him and throws him back onto the street he came from.

Feeling his knees wobble, he pushes on before he can give in to the seducing urge to let himself fall to the ground and curl up to die. He can still do that afterwards.

Another few steps and he's around the cabin where he can see the small lake, a pond really, with the wooden terrace right by the water; on it stands a deserted deck chair, but the bottle of beer that sits right next to it is still half-full, so Julian must be back any minute.

He leans heavily on the wall of the cabin and feels his strength bleed away. A bead of sweat runs down his forehead and along his nose as he lets his head fall, the strain in his neck too much for his muscles to hold it up anymore. Catching his breath is difficult when his lungs don't want to take in any much needed air and his chest feels too tight, like the collar of his dirty white t-shirt is strangling him, and he raises a violently shaking hand to his chest, ignoring the creaking of his joints as he does so.

Shit, this is worse than he'd thought. The hand that isn't clutching his shirt automatically wanders towards his pants pocket. It's empty. Of course it's empty. He's out of pills. He panicks at that because how in the world is he supposed to survive ---

when he hears a gun cock and forces himself to look up into Julian's face.

He looks good - always does - and his stubble is almost a beard now; his hair has grown too and Donald just wants to breathe it in. He wears sunglasses (of course, it's still bright outside and his eyes are just so damn sensitive), and his brow is deeply furrowed, his mouth a thin line that tells Donald just how welcome he is here.

"Don?", he asks, voice raspy like he hasn't spoken in a long time. Maybe he hasn't, but Ressler isn't naïve enough to blame any emotion for the roughness.

"Hey", he says, and he feels the world sway from the effort of holding himself up, so he grabs for the wall again, temporarily borrowing stability from the wooden structure. He doesn't even want to know how awful he must look, all sweaty and dirty and miserable, shaking and fighting just to keep standing.

"What do you want?", Julian asks, words hard and the gun still pointed at Ressler.

He looks at Julian, helpless to say anything, devoid of all words, and he realizes he doesn't know how to answer that question. He opens his mouth in the hopes of being able to bring out anything at all when a shudder runs through his body, leaving him breathless and on the ground. For a second all he knows is the pain of too much and too little at the same time that grinds his bones to dust and cuts through his muscles effortlessly. He thinks he groans in pain, but can't tell over the static in his ears.

"Fuck", he hears at the edge of his consciousness, "Don!"

And when he looks up, Julian is gone from where he stood before, instead there are arms steadying him from face-planting into the muddy ground. He leans heavily into those arms that promise comfort and solace and strength.

"Julian", Don rasps out, and he looks up to see Julian close, so close, worry visible even behind the sunglasses, and he has to close his eyes as a rush of emotion threatens to overcome him. This is it. This is all he wanted.

"Don't talk now, okay? I'm callin' an ambulance." And that's wrong. He can't do that, Ressler can't go to the hospital, not when he's on every wanted-list in the city ---

"Don't", he whispers and swallows against the bile. Julian looks at him like he's lost his mind, but there's still so much worry. "Don't", Donald repeats. He doesn't know how else to communicate this.

"Okay", Julian says flatly, still sceptical. "You mind tellin' me though why the fuck you're here?"

Ressler looks away, tries to ignore the black dots that creep into his vision.

"I'm sorry", he says, and he means it. Hopes that Julian understands, because Ressler doesn't know if he has the strength or the words to really explain himself here. "I didn't know where else to go."

Julian just nods, waiting for him to continue while Donald shivers in his arms and doesn't know how to go on.

"I fucked up", he finally says, and Julian laughs at that; a humorless, dry laugh that settles itself deep into what's left of Don's bones, a laugh that sends waves of guilt through his chest. He looks to the ground and tries not to break down under the weight of it.

"Yeah, you did", Julian says and there's an edge to his voice that's dangerous and hurt and speaks of everything Ressler has put him through. "And I'm really fucking close to tell you to go to Hell."

His eyes burn holes into Donald's skin until he's sure that Julian must be able to see his insides now, the rotten flesh and the dirt and the blood and all the shame and guilt he's never gonna be able to wash away.

"Not gonna do that though. Seems like you're already there."

Don lets his head fall and at this point he can't tell sweat from tears or blood or vomit or dirt; it's all there on his skin, whether remembered or real he doesn't know. All he knows is that it's disgusting, he's disgusting, he's dirty and has done unforgivable things and yet Julian is still holding him up, still touching him --- His head drops and he closes his eyes against the spinning world.

"C'mon", Julian says quietly, "let's get you cleaned up. You look like you could need a drink too, something to eat. And then you're gonna tell me what's going on before I change my mind. You alright with that?"

Donald just nods. At least he thinks he does.

He feels Julian's grip tighten, and together they manage to get Donald on his feet; he sways unsteadily, but Julian's hands are still there, grounding him against the nausea, keeping him from falling over as he clenches his eyes shut against the wave of dizziness and pain that rips through him.

"Hey, wait", he blurts out when Julian nudges him to move. "You don't - you don't have to do this, Julian. I won't blame you if -", he takes a deep breath, trying to organize his blurry thoughts, "- if you... y'know. Wanna throw me out on the street. Let me rot."

Julian looks at him long and hard, his face unreadable, and Donald wonders when that changed. He used to be able to read him flawlessly, back in the day.

"I know", he says eventually, "and believe me, I have every reason to, but... let's just get inside 'n' sort this out, yeah?"

He nods.

The inside of the cabin looks exactly the way he remembers it from the few times Julian has taken him here. Cozy and warm, soft light through the small windows, wooden table in the middle of the room - with all kinds of stuff on it, bottles and tools and newspapers - surrounded by self-made wooden chairs; it's only one room, and in the corner is still the old bed with the worn through mattress that he remembers very vividly (it's softer than it looks, the pillows under his hips fluffy, the scent of whiskey from Julian's lips and resin from all around him filling his senses ---) Julian drags him to the bed; Don is glad that Julian keeps his hands on his shoulders for a few more moments. He doesn't trust his body to sit on its own and not fall over. He takes a few deep breaths - the smell of whiskey and resin still lingers in the cabin and if he closes his eyes, he might be able to pretend nothing has happened and he's back to when all was good. He doesn't close his eyes. Needs the punishment of seeing an older version of Julian and that glimmer in his eyes that betrays the cold anger he tries to project. In here, it's easier reading him. The sunglasses have landed on the table in the mixture of things, and breathing is just that much easier now. Funny how brown eyes can have that effect on him. Or maybe it's just Julian's eyes. "You okay? Or are ya gonna topple over as soon as I let go?", Julian asks. His hands burn where they touch Ressler's shoulders - even through the shirt - and he feels like their heat is spreading all the way through his arms, mending his broken bones with a painful grip that makes him gasp. "It's alright", he says. His voice sounds strange, somehow distorted and raw, and when Julian lifts his hands it's like ice fills all the places that were on fire just seconds before, crushing him, burning even worse. He bites his lip. "'Kay", Julian murmurs, and then he turns around to get a bottle of water and --- and he opens up one of the cabinets and pulls out a small, brownish-yellow pill bottle --- his heart is beating so fast now he thinks he might throw up, and every fibre in his body screams Want! Want! Want! --- his muscles pulling on him, willing him to move, to get to the pills, down them all, swallow them, no regrets, make the trembling stop and the sweating and the shivers, undo the damage to his body, unbreak his bones, untear his sinews --- His mouth falls open. He can already feel it: the texture and the form of the little white pill against his tongue, the short moment when he swallows, the high he's chasing - no, no, it's not that anymore, it's never been that; it's always been about numbing the pain until it wasn't, until it was just about avoiding the come down. But right now he can feel the high, the anticipation, being so close to victory --- "Don?" And he wants to tell Julian to shut up, to just give him the pills, but he's the one who holds the bottle, he has the power in this moment and fuck, Ressler would do everything, anything, get on his knees or on all fours and just take it (flashes of Prescott assault his mind at that, and he gasps audibly because Julian is not Prescott, far from it, and he just wants his brain to shut the fuck up, to stop, knowing the pills will do that, they'll fucking save him from his own thoughts) --- "Hey, man - what's going on?" It's Julian's voice again, so much nearer now, burning hot hands holding him together as Donald crumbles. He collapses like a frail burning building, the last beams that were holding it together now nothing more than a pyre of grief and lost hope. He trembles against Julian's chest, his hands clinging to Julian's shirt, hurting from the exhaustion of cramping around the scratchy material but unable to let go, his head tucked under Julian's chin where he crouches in front of Donald on the floor. He wants to cry or to scream or to lash out, but all the energy he has left is unfocused, is mainly the never ending chant of Want! Want! Want! beneath his skin. "Fuck", he grinds out, and it's the hardest thing for him right

now, but he has Julian's arms around him and can feel his lips in his hair and smell leather and aftershave and --- Julian hasn't let him go yet. He hasn't pushed him away yet; is still touching him, unafraid, not yet disgusted. Then again, he doesn't know what Donald has done. "Hey, hey", Julian breathes against Ressler's temple, "it's okay, Don, it's - it's alright. It's gonna be alright..." Don shakes his head, takes a stuttering breath. "It's not, it's -", he starts, and his hands shake so hard now he's afraid of hurting Julian, "it's all gone to shit, okay? Nothing's alright, and - it's all my fault. It's all my fault, Julian, just ---" He doesn't know what he's saying, only that he needs to get it out. He needs to let Julian know how sorry he is, how much he wishes he could go back and do it all differently, how much he wants Gale to be happy. "Easy", Julian whispers, and now his hands are stroking up and down Don's spine and he feels like a child, but also safer than he has in a long time. This, right here, is his shelter in the storm, a place to wait out the worst of it before he can go home. Only that he doesn't know where home is anymore. Not that it matters. He has his self-imposed punishment to serve. They sit there for a while, until Ressler's breathing is less ragged and his body is limp with exhaustion and his hands uncramp around Julian's shirt. "You need to drink something", Julian says, his voice far too soft, and somewhere deep inside of him Ressler just wants Julian to yell at him, to beat him, to show him exactly how he's felt the last couple of years. Let out all the anger and frustration and disgust he must be feeling. Add his loathing to the pyre burning away at Donald's insides. Julian shuffles away, keeping one steadying hand on Ressler's shoulder, the other reaching for the glass of water he must have put on the ground besides him when Donald collapsed. "Here", he murmurs and holds the glass up to Don's lips. Donald doesn't even try to take it from him, his trembling hands trapped between his thighs. The water is refreshing and he's sure he could drink an entire river - his mouth and throat aren't longer as dry, his heaving stomach slowly settles, his over-heated skin seems to cool a little. When the glass is empty, Julian sets it aside and takes a hard look at Don. "Better?", he asks. Behind the hard, cold glare his gaze is so open, so vulnerable now that Don has to look away. "Yeah", he nods. "Thanks." He doesn't know where Julian has put the pill bottle, but it's probably back in the cabinet. There's no way Julian could have misinterpreted Donald's behaviour. "So." Donald looks up again. He can still feel the sweat on his forehead, on his neck, chest, everywhere, but now it's cooler, and if the temperature keeps dropping as quickly he will surely freeze to death. He doesn't know though if it's the change of seasons or his own body. "Guess I owe you an explanation", Donald murmurs. He's tired suddenly, so tired he can feel it in his bones. Like he's two hundred years old, an ancient tree about to die. "You bet your ass you do." With that Julian gets up off the ground, refills the glass, sets it on the table and sits down next to Donald on the bed. He sits further away than he used to, the gap between them like a fucking canyon that Don could throw himself in to to break every bone in his body yet again, for the last time. He won't though. He owes Julian that much. "So?", Julian asks when the silence stretches too long. But Donald doesn't know where to start, doesn't even know what to say except for I'm sorry and forgive me and I love you. He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry again, his heartbeat picking up its pace, beating uncomfortably against his too tight ribcage. "I'm sorry", he begins, and when he looks at Julian, his face is impassive and schooled. He expects more. Of course he does, Donald thinks, and he deserves it, deserves more, deserves everything. He's just not sure he can give that. "I ruined your life", he says. Looks down at his hands and how

they shake where they're trapped between his knees. "Again", he adds and the corner of his mouth twitches in a humorless attempt at a smile. "You should never have paid for what we - what I did. The whole Reddington-thing. I justified it with all the good we did, all the cases we solved, the criminals we put behind bars, but... you were right. The price was too high. It was doomed from the start... All the people who died, Julian, all those good people --- I don't know if it was worth it." He looks up into Julian's face. It's not as passive and unreadable as before; now there's a glint of pity, a tiny spark of anger, the smallest sign of resignation. "And - and to think I betrayed all my principles for that taskforce. All I ever stood for - wanted to stand for. Fuck, I'm... I just... I just wanna go back, Julian. I just wanna start over. Forget about - about Reddington and Prescott and Hitchin and - Audrey. Fuck, Audrey... I should have known then. I should have quit back then." He buries his face in his hands. There are no tears, but the shame that's crawling up his spine and spreading through every inch of his body is threatening to overwhelm him. "What happened to her?", Julian asks quietly, his voice impossibly soft. He knows about them. About their far too early engagement, about the stubbornness with which Donald had tried to love her just to get over the fact that Julian was gone from his life. About his need to prove that he was okay. "She's dead. She was killed. She'd still be alive if it wasn't for Reddington." "I'm sorry", Julian says after a moment of silence. He sounds genuine, even though Ressler knows how Julian feels about Audrey. Or used to feel, anyway. And now, Donald doesn't know what else to say. Knows there's so much, too much to talk about, but he doesn't know where to start. He wants to tell Julian about Hitchin and Prescott and those brief moments with Reddington - in the box and in a hotel room in Washington and the whole long flight from Munich back to the states. Donald takes a deep breath; it's not like that makes any difference because his lungs still seem incapable of taking in enough oxygen for him to survive. How he's still conscious, he doesn't know, but it's probably just his mind playing tricks with him. And all the while, Julian looks at him with patience that's bordering on resignation, and sadness he might be mistaking for grief about the people they could have been. The love they could have shared, the lives they could have lived. All those things Ressler never gave himself time to grieve for, but are returning with a vengeance now, cutting him up, sucking him dry, suffocating him in their thick reality. "I deserved it", he finally croaks, his voice strangled by everything he's lost, and he clears his throat. "Everything I got in the end, I deserved it." He stares at his hands that are trapped between his knees, feels them tremble, and when he looks back up at Julian, the other man is suddenly closer than he was before. The canyon between them is nothing more than a crack in the pavement now, their legs not yet touching, Julian's heat a welcome comfort against Don's clammy pale skin, and it still feels like it's not enough, like nothing he could do could ever be enough, and as much as he detests the thought that this might be the closest Julian will let himself get to Don, he also revels in the almost-touches and the dark gazes and the fact that this, too, is something he painfully deserves: the one person he never stopped loving to be entirely unreachable. He thinks back to the good times and how easy it was to just reach out and take any comfort he needed. The sleepless nights in those dingy motel rooms they spent staring out the window at the starry sky or at each other, the moments of warmth and solitude, bodies wrapped around each other like they're one, soft breath in his ear, dry lips on skin, rough fingers entangled, squeezing, comforting. Thinks back to that night in Manila, when Julian stood before Donald's door at three in the morning, dark bags under

his eyes, arms wrapped tightly around his chest to prevent him from falling apart; later it would be Don's arms holding him together. Thinks back to that morning in New York that should have been entirely unpleasant with the stink and the broken heater in the middle of January and the noise even so early, but with Julian's sleeping form next to him - so peaceful and full of beauty -, he wished it could always be like this. He doesn't think back to the time they said goodbye, or the time Julian almost died from a bullet in his stomach, or the countless times they sat at each other's hospital beds. He doesn't think about the last time they kissed, the last time they made love, the last time they hugged, the last time there wasn't this edge to Julian's voice that tells Donald that things will never be the same. He certainly doesn't think about the future. "And what is it you got? What is it you think you deserve? 'Cause I see you sitting here like, like death warmed over and I can't imagine what the Hell you could've done to deserve... well, this." Julian's voice is rougher than usual; Donald doesn't know if it's because of the emotion he swallows so successfully or because he's smoking more than he used to or because this is the first time in a long time that he's speaking to somebody. Donald draws in another sharp breath. His lungs aren't exactly cooperating, but it doesn't matter as long as he can still explain. "I think I need some air", he says, voice barely more than a whisper. He sees Julian nod out of the corner of his eye, and together they manage to walk outside. It's weird, a little, how much better he feels and how much easier it is to talk, to move, to breathe, ever since arriving in the cabin. Just a few hours ago he was almost certain he'd be dying in a ditch right about now. It's gotten dark outside; the sun hasn't disappeared fully yet, but through the trees that surround the cabin and the pond it's impossible to make out. Julian sits him down in the deck chair Donald had noticed earlier, the opened bottle of beer that's still sitting beside it now forgotten. Don takes a deep breath. It's easier now, out here. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Julian setting up a second chair next to the one Donald is sitting on. They both lean forward, elbows on their knees, Ressler's head hanging, Gale watching him with sharp eyes. Donald shakes his head; to think how easily all this could have been avoided! If he hadn't taken the job with the taskforce, none of this would have happened. Or if he'd been honest sooner, if he'd talked to Julian when the whole Mr. Kaplan-mess started instead of betraying him --- "That, right there, what you just said, is why I love you." He can still hear those words loud and clear in his head, recalling that moment with absolute clarity even if most of his other thoughts and memories are blurry from exhaustion and pain. The way they just came over Julian's lips, so simple, so easy, like they were picking up from where they'd left, still sends goosebumps over his arms and back; he remembers the painful tightening of his chest back then, and his mind going completely blank, and deciding to overplay his nerves with a lame joke and getting back to work as quickly as possible. He remembers hope bubbling up in the back of his ribcage, and laying awake that night overthinking those words. Overthinking the whole situation while pushing away his guilt. He hated lying to Julian then, and he hates where it has gotten him. He remembers cursing Julian's mind, always so quick and clever, and he remembers cursing Reddington time and time again. He purposely doesn't remember all the times he thought about the Concierge instead of Julian when he was alone in his bed. It feels like another betrayal all over again. And he remembers being on the verge of asking how much truth lay behind Julian's words more than once but always pulling back at the last second. Maybe he'll never know, now. "Don?" He remembers that he needs to talk. His mind feels almost bruised by the

onslaught of memories ever since he's seen Julian for the first time in so long. "Yeah. Sorry." He takes another deep breath, now easier out here, and leans back in his chair, tired eyes focusing on the patches of darkening skies through the crowns of the trees. A sense of tranquility fills his whole body and the shivers cease to shake him. "You were right about Mako Tanida. His head. Reddington - Reddington gave it to me as a gift." He closes his eyes for a second and sees the severed head in the box as if it happened yesterday instead of almost six years ago. He shudders and opens his eyes again, back to watching the gentle breeze shifting through the leaves and branches. He doesn't look over at Julian. "Some sort of... sick compensation for Audrey's death." He pauses at that, thinking back at Audrey and how he barely remembers her face now even though he knows he should. It gives Julian time to piece it together. He doesn't say a word though, intent on letting Donald speak. "It makes me sick now. But that's Reddington, you know? He lulls you in and there's nothing you can do about it. -- Objectively, I knew what we were doing, and I was justifying it with all the high-profile arrests we did. But... I don't know, man, he was under my skin and I only realized it when it was too late. He's like this... spider. Sucks you dry as soon as you're caught in his net. And it doesn't stop until someone worse comes along and ---" He stops speaking then, dropping his head, unable to find the words to convey Prescott's cruelty, his depravity that became Donald's own. A hand on his shoulder makes him look up; Julian is watching him, his gaze a strange mix between a cold distance and warm empathy. "What happened?", he asks. As if his hand doesn't burn Don's flesh where it touches him over his shirt, as if he doesn't know the repercussions of this gesture, as if he can't even imagine what it means to Don that he's touching him out of his own accord, not yet fleeing, not yet disgusted, but full of love and comfort and everything Donald doesn't deserve. They stay quiet for a short while, Don watching how the cold distance transforms to something new, something like pity, but not exactly. Maybe curiosity with a touch of sadness. Like he wants to hear the answer and doesn't. Like he wants to know what made Don come here but doesn't want to hear it. Like he knows it could change everything between them, all the anger he's been carrying with him since the ice rink-case melting away, leaving only the torn pieces of his old love. "Laurel Hitchin", Donald says quietly. Another shiver runs through his body as he feels Julian's hand falling away. They're silent again; Don trying to figure out how to confess a murder and all the shit that followed it, and Julian thinking about how Hitchin might as well have fired him. She may have been an awful person, but she didn't deserve to die. In Don's experience, there's no one who deserves to die; at least that used to be his opinion. He's not so sure about it now. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but that's where they stay. He can't push them over the edge, can't make his vocal chords work and his lips form the vowels and consonants. He tries in vain, again and again, until Julian is looking at him again like he knows Donald's struggle. "She's dead", Julian says, tone neutral, and Don can't read from it how much Julian knows or at least suspects. He nods. Remembers her laying on her kitchen floor, pool of blood growing larger second by sickening second. "I didn't mean to ---", he stammers, and Julian's eyes grow wide like he didn't expect this confession. "Shit", he breathes and rubs a hand over his face. It stops over his mouth and chin and he looks straight ahead into the darkness that has settled around them like their own private bubble where there's room for confessions and guilt and maybe even forgiveness; room that the bright sun of the day doesn't allow. "That's why you're such a mess? Jesus, Don,

I ---" But he doesn't continue. Donald doesn't want to hear another I'm sorry from Julian, and he doesn't want to hear that he's fucked up either. He just wants to forget. "It gets worse", he says and Julian looks up, surprise and pain and dread lining his features, and he suddenly looks much older than he is. Still beautiful, and Don has to swallow against the sudden feeling of belonging that rises in his chest; like he's home, like this has been his home all along, and it will be until they're old and grey and dying of old age in each others' arms --- only that it's a fantasy, a feverish dream he's having. Before Don can continue though, Julian stands up and disappears inside the cabin without another word. He can't blame him. With a sigh he stays where he is, watching the sky again that's now completely dark, and he doesn't know if he isn't actually watching the invisible dance of the trees. His mind is completely blank now and it's a more than welcome change. Before he knows it, Julian is back with two bottles of beer in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. Wordlessly, he gives one of the already opened bottles to Don who takes it with only slightly shaking hands, then sits back down, takes a gulp of beer, puts it down on the ground beside his chair, and takes a cigarette out of the pack. He offers one to Don but he declines with a shake of his head. The small flame of the lighter makes Julian's face flicker orange and yellow, the shadows making the lines on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth dance and seem deeper than in the light of day. For the few seconds it lasts, he looks almost angelic in a rough, strange way. "I called the cleaner who used to work for her", he says before he can think about it. "His name's Henry Prescott." The smell of burnt tobacco lulls him in, like they're back in Julian's old apartment, in his bed after an evening of slow sex, bliss and heavy limbs and soft words forever interlinked with it. It almost makes the bile that's threatening to rise after the mention of Prescott's name stay down. Julian's eyes are on him again, calmer now, but also more distanced than before. Don can barely make them out through the dark of night, but from experience he knows Gale won't say any more. He needs all the facts, and Don's the only one who can provide those. He looks back to where the lake must be, now an invisible black hole between the equally black woods. He thinks it must be easy now that he's started, but the words won't come, his mind preoccupied with keeping the images at bay, the memories of dead bodies and blood and the smell of bleach and ammonia. He closes his eyes for a minute, the shivers returning, rocking his body against his will, and he's going to be sick if the stink of chemicals doesn't leave his nose soon --- He wishes Julian would touch him again, ground him somehow like he used to, but he doesn't. Don doesn't look up either. He needs to carry on. "He found out who I was", he says eventually, strangled, struggling to keep talking. "Blackmailed me into working for him." He rubs his free hand over his face, pressing down over his eyes to get rid of the images and the smell, and for a moment it's like Julian isn't even there, like he's not listening, like Don can say anything he wants to the dark emptiness he's surrounded by. He takes a few gulps of the beer but doesn't set it down. "Fuck, I --- the things I did. The shit I was forced to do and I, I didn't even fight it. I was too afraid to - I don't know, lose my job, my reputation, my friends", it breaks out of him now, and a laugh forces its way through his constricted throat at the irony of the words. He feels Julian shift next to him, reminding Don of his presence, but he doesn't turn to look at him. "I did every fucking thing he told me to. Drove around dead bodies in car trunks. Buried and unburied them. Scrubbed blood off walls and carpets and beds. --- How the fuck can anyone forgive me for that? How can you?" He takes another large sip of the beer, now risking a glance at

Julian. His cigarette has almost burnt down completely, leaving a tail of ash threatening to fall onto Julian's lap; he hasn't taken a drag since Don has started speaking. Instead he's looking at Donald, almost staring through him, and Don doesn't know what to make of that. He doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on Julian. "I should never have come", he says curtly because he can't face the silence now. "I'm sorry. I should never have -- I guess I know now that I deserved it." The calm that settles in his bones surprises him. He looks back up to the sky, clear and beautiful where it shines through the trees, and now he can make out tiny bright dots, stars spattered across it like the splashes of watercolor over paper when he was a kid. He can feel tears behind his eyes and he knows this is the last time he will be home. Knows it's the last time he gets to feel something other than guilt and dread. Maybe he should get up and leave now, having done enough damage as it is, but something inside him urges him to stay, to tell Julian the whole truth, make him understand. He needs Julian to tell him to fuck off; needs his rejection to be at peace and go home. Somewhere, anyway. "He didn't stop there", he says, and he knows it's his only chance to ever articulate it; if he doesn't say it now he'll be silent forever. Besides him, Julian tenses. He's been tense for the last couple of minutes, but now his back is straight in a way that it almost never is, but Donald needs to get those next few words out. He feels strangely detached from his body and mind and memories. "Sometimes he would force me on my knees, make me suck him off", he starts, and it's easier to say it out loud than it should be, "and sometimes he would bend me over the hood of the car or tie me to the bed post in whatever hotel he'd stay in. I took it every time. I thought I didn't have a choice." And he's smiling now, the weight on his shoulders, his lungs, his mind so much lighter, and he doesn't even mind the trembling of his hands, of his whole body. He just lets it happen. "Until my conscience finally made me put a stop to it. I arrested him. Wrote my confession. And left. But I'm still too much of a coward to face the consequences, instead I'm running from everything." He lets his head fall. This shouldn't be this easy, he tells himself, but then again, with Julian nothing is as it should be. "Swallowing one pill after the other, sleeping in the mud, always looking over my shoulder. That's no life. That's - that's Hell, Julian." Finally, he looks back at his old love, a flood of emotions racing through him like a tsunami, and he chokes out: "I deserve it. All of it. What Prescott did to me. I gotta live with it. I'm ---" But the words die on his lips as he feels Julian's arms around his neck, and hot breath against his ear, and fingers tangling in his hair. He stops breathing for a few seconds, brain catching up with the sensations, and Julian is embracing him like he knows it's the last time, or like he's sorry, or like his life depends on it. "Just so you know", Julian rasps against Don's cheek, "I really fucking want to punch you right now. I wanna - wanna throw you against the wall and just - punch you until I can't move my arm anymore. Okay? Got that?" Donald nods silently, still stunned by the sudden embrace. He didn't think Julian would ever want to touch him again, wouldn't even want to be near him again. "No one", Julian says, "No one - deserves shit like that." And then he stammers like he wants to say every word he knows at the same time while simultaneously not knowing what to say altogether, before giving up with a hissed "Fuck". Don knows this, knows that sometimes, Julian's brain is faster than his mouth, and then he stumbles over words like an excited child. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with you, huh?", he asks quietly, still not letting go, and now Don puts the bottle down and returns the embrace. Carefully, very carefully, like he might freak Julian out, like he might realize then what he's doing and

drop Donald like a hot potato. Donald shakes his head no; doesn't want to be dropped, not now, not when he's this close to Julian; shakes his head because he doesn't know what he's supposed to do now either. The idea that's been in the back of his head, whose existence he completely ignored until now, that's probably the reason he came here in the first place, creeps into his consciousness now, and his grip around Julian's ribs tightens. "I just--- wanted to apologize for everything I did to you. I ruined your career, your life. I lied to you, I betrayed you. And I'm so sorry, Julian, I'm - I'm so fucking sorry." He loosens his grip again so he can look at Julian who looks up. His eyes are wet and dark and so damn beautiful, and now they're only inches apart. He could kiss him now, ruin everything all over again for a short moment of bliss, but he doesn't. "Me too", Julian says quietly, and his voice is soft like torn velvet. "I wish you wouldn't have come here. Let me keep my anger. But I guess you have this way of making me forgive everything you do. You're impossible, Don, you know that and I, just, hate you so, so much right now, I fucking - I hate you so much ---" "I know", Don whispers against Julian's cheek as their faces are pressed together, stubble against stubble, words escaping them that neither of them hears, lips against skin, not exactly kissing, but mouthing apologies and curses that get lost in the night. "I was so angry for so long, thinking about you, and the shit you did, the - the way it had to end", Julian rasps, tension falling off his body, too tired to keep on shivering. "I kept asking myself why the fuck you'd work with him --- how you could stand looking Reddington in the eye day after day and not - not see all that he cost us. Except I realised you did see, and you just didn't care." "Julian, I ---", he interrupts, but Julian keeps talking. "And I took that as justification to curse you and to hate you, and I did, you know, I really did, but... then I realised it was Reddington and I -- I chalked you up as just another casualty, another person he ruined, because you - you might just as well have been dead, you know? I fucking buried you." Julian chokes a little at that, but his grip at the back of Don's head doesn't weaken. "I know him, Don, I, uh, I know how he is. How he will put you under his spell and pull you in and never let go. Just... Just tell me this." And he looks up again, eyes red rimmed even in the darkness, and Don wants nothing more than to kiss those tears away, but he can't. He owes Julian, and even though he doesn't know what he wants to ask, he knows he needs to give an honest answer. No more lies. No more. Julian's searching his face and seems to have found what he's been looking for when he finally speaks up again after long moments of silence. "Did you love him?" The question should surprise Donald. It doesn't. He looks down, unable to meet Julian's unrelenting gaze. Thinks back to the box and the hotel room in Washington and the flight from Munich back to the states. Slowly, without looking up, he nods. No more lies. Here it comes. "Yeah", he says quietly even though he knows Julian has seen his nod. "I did. But never like I loved you." The words just come, mindlessly spilling over his lips, and he means them; he still doesn't look up. Doesn't want to see the disgust and rejection in Julian's eyes. The moment stretches like someone stopped time, stopped the entire universe, and Donald doesn't mind one bit. If it means having this last moment with Julian, even if it's filled with uncertainty, he'll gladly spend eternity frozen in time like this. Julian's fingers are still in his hair, his gaze still focussed on Donald. He's still though, not moving, and if it wasn't for his heavy breath, Don would have thought Julian might really be frozen. Then the moment ends. "Okay", Julian says, simple but heavy, like this truth lifted some weight off of him that Donald didn't know Julian was carrying. He looks up now, unable to keep his

gaze away any longer, and he doesn't know what to make of Julian's expression. There's no disgust. There's no rejection. There's understanding and sadness locked away in the tears that are sticking to his eyelashes, shimmering in the pale light of the moon that's slowly beginning to shine through the trees. Donald doesn't understand it; Julian is supposed to be upset, angry, pushing him away, throwing him out on the street to rot --- not drawing soothing circles over the back of his head, not looking at him like that, like they can fix this, like Donald is finally home --- "I'm, uh... I'm going to the police. Tonight. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. My sad attempt to make things right." He has to look away again, Julian's focussed, open gaze too much for him. "Guess I couldn't... leave without having told you. And I'm - I'm not asking for forgiveness here. I know I can never have that. I just needed to see you. Make sure you're alright, so..." He clears his throat, realizing that they've only been talking about him and never once about Julian. Fuck, how egoistic can he be! "How're you doing?", he asks, and Julian is still clinging to him, just as he's clinging to Julian. "Oh, I'm fine", Julian laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Julian -", Donald starts. He doesn't need his bullshit now. "Really, Don, things couldn't be better. I've read that in my horoscope." He still smiles, a little crooked like he's holding something back, something big, and now Ressler's hand comes up to cup Julian's face. Again, the thought of just kissing him comes to mind, but they're so fragile, both of them, it would only leave them shattered for good. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke the thick stubble and he doesn't say a word. Julian closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, and for a few precious moments, Donald can pretend they're happy. "Stay", Julian says and Donald freezes. Thinks he must have misheard Julian, who looks up now from where he kneels in front of Don's chair, his own hand leaving the blonde hair to rest at Don's jaw. "What?", he asks. It's more of a breath though, no sound escaping his lips. "I'm - yeah, I'm fucking pissed at you right now, but all of this... it - it doesn't change anything. Y'know, I still mean it." And they're so close still, and Donald has lost track of what's happening, and confused, he shakes his head. "What do you mean?", he asks. "Trondheim. Remember that?" He does. It was the beginning of March and so cold even the hotel room in New York with the broken heater seemed like a tropical vacation in comparison. It wasn't the first time they said I love you, but it was the first time they talked about the future. Before, they would stay in the moment, too afraid of letting go, of losing the other over naïve fantasies of a life together. That night though, they didn't need to be scared. "Whatever happens", Julian said, "I'll never walk away. How could I, huh? Guess I'm too far gone." He smiled, and so did Donald, pressing a kiss to Julian's collarbone. "Fifty years from now", Julian continued, "I'll still think of you. Every fucking day." That earned him a kiss on the lips, chaste and innocent and full of love like they've never experienced before. "Don't matter if you're still with me or not. You don't forget the love of your life, Donnie. I won't forget. Not us. Not this. Never. I could never let you go. Ever." But back then, Julian couldn't have imagined where they would end up one day. "It was different back then", Don says. Not because he doesn't want Julian's words to be true, but because he doesn't think himself worth them. "Yeah, it was", Julian answers, "but tell me you don't feel it still. Tell me, Donnie, and I'll let you go." Donald's answer is silence because, yes, of course he still feels it, that love that's deeper than any feeling he's ever known, deeper even than the shame and guilt and pain of the recent months, years, but doesn't Julian know that it's pointless? That Don's life is over? The silence stretches on and he can't hold

Julian's gaze. "I know", Julian says, "I know." And those words are enough to set him free, to liberate him from his cage of anger and self-pity and guilt and self-imposed punishment - he knows those won't go away anytime soon, but he still feels like breaking down, mercy too much to handle when he knows he's undeserving of forgiveness. He lets his head fall, knowing Julians hands are there to steady him. They do, cradling him like a newborn child, and in a way that might be true: maybe, somehow, this can be a new life, a new start for him; a clean slate. Maybe now, he can forget all of it, all the shit that happened, the person he was - the person he was forced to become --- maybe this is the one chance in life for rebirth. "I'm a mess", he says. "I know", Julian answers. "We can figure it out. Together." "You deserve better." "Shut it now, Donnie. I think I know best what I deserve, huh? I've given up everything for you, y'know, twice. You know what I think it is I deserve? Hm? What we deserve?" Donald looks up, feeling Julian's breath against his lips as much as the intensity of his gaze, those brown eyes so familiar in their depth it makes his heart ache. He wants to answer, say something, anything at all, but no words will leave his lips. He feels trapped there between Julian's closeness and the chair, but there's no place he'd rather be. He holds Julian's gaze for a few moments before shaking his head. "Peace, Donnie. I think we deserve peace after all this. Just a little, don't you think?" And that sounds good, far too good to be true, and he can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. "Yeah", he says finally, voice constricting, "I want that. I want that, Julian." A smile is still tugging at the corners of his mouth when Julian kisses him, slow and unsure and not at all like the many kisses they used to share; it's like a first kiss, a promise for an uncertain future, a vow to try. To give it time and let wounds heal - they're all they have, after all. "You're not going to the police", Julian says as they part. "We will figure this out. Get you clean. And in fifty years we'll still be here, okay, I won't lose you again, I couldn't, couldn't bury you again, I'll ---" And as Donald kisses the doubts and fears away, for the first time in years he has the feeling that everything might turn out okay; that he might be deserving of happiness after all. That finally, finally he's home. _______________________________________

[the-mostdiabolik-of-lovers]

Diabolik Lovers Tag Game

Ava: Thank you so much to the wonderful @raburabusama for the tag! I really enjoy these types of posts. They’re so much fun! And, of course, I’m tagging @vampiretsuki as the rules state. I adore both of your blogs and enjoy seeing what you both post each day. ^^

Rules: Answer the questions and tag anyone else you wish to see participate~ Also tag me (@Vampiretsuki) if you do this because I would love to read your answers~!

                                   ┕━♔━┙

1.- Who would you rather take to a night club, Carla or Azusa? I’ve never been to a nightclub and I don’t exactly plan on going any time soon... Although, this is a fun scenario! I think Carla for the mutual distaste we probably would have for things like that. Plus! I hardly focus enough on the Tsukinami boys and I would like to take a chance to know them better. 

2.- In a Science test would you copy Yuma’s test or Ayato’s test? As the others have said, def Yuma! At least his attempt would be somewhat reasonable, whereas I adore Ayato but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be getting anything out of him and his airplane paper.

3.- Would you rather have Kino and Azusa or Shin and Laito, as your Butlers? I’m gonna go with Shin and Laito on this one. Once again, I wanna know a little more about the Tsukinami’s and that would be a really good opportunity! Not to mention, the thought of Laito as a butler has me kinda weak-

4.- Go on a date with Reiji at a Aquarium or go on a date with Subaru at a Cafe instead? As much as I love our little tsun,Subaru, and it would be adorable to go on a date like that, Reiji is my voice without a doubt. Whether it be at an aquarium or just enjoying some tea with him, I wouldn’t hesitate to go on a date.

5.- Would you rather go support/see Kou at one of his Concerts or go support/see Shu at one of his Violin Performances? Sorry Kou, but I wanna see Shuu shine. I reckon it would be beautiful to watch him play. The setting, the music... it would be stunning.

6.- In a Math Project would you team up with Ruki and Shin or with Reiji and Yuma? Once again, Reiji takes my vote- Him and Yuma wouldn’t be too bad of a team, especially since Yuma is far less stubborn than Shin, hehe.

7.- Who would you put your bets on, Kanato eating the most chocolates or Ayato eating the most Takoyakis? I think Kanato would stop once he begins to get a little nauseous, no matter how good the sweets are. So, I definitely have to give this one to Ayato. You just know he’d eat and eat and eat without an end in sight.

8.- Sleep in Carla’s room, Subaru’s room or in Shu’s room? (You have the room to yourself, they aren’t there) Would you peek on their stuff? Subaru. Definitely. His coffin looks actually kinda cosy and probably smells like him so I’d love that. Also... he does have a secret stash of magazines which I’d love to get my hands on and have a peek at, hehe. Along with other things he might keep locked away, too. Sorry Subaru, but I’m gonna be nosy. 

9.- You’re a princess of the Victorian era! Your father has ordered that you have a bodyguard.. who would you choose as your personal bodyguard, Laito or Kou? Laito, for sure! If this is the Victorian era, too, you just know he’s going to be unbearably raunchy. It would be so fun, and scandalous~

10.- Would you prefer to have Kino in his bat form as your pet or Shin in his wolf form as your pet instead? A little pet bat would be adorable, especially if it’s Kino. He’d pester you quite a lot, I can imagine. Shin, on the other hand, would be so darn stubborn but would be so cute and soft for cuddles, too. I think I’ll say Kino. 

11.- Break a fight between Kou and Ayato or between Laito and Kanato? Getting in between Kou and Ayato sounds like a death wish. They’re both so assertive in their own ways, I would be left in tears... Kanato is terrifying in his own way too, but I reckon it would be easier to calm down Laito (depending on how heated the fight is). So, Kanato and Laito.

12.- Who would you kiss on the cheek, who would you kiss on the forehead and who would you kiss on the eyelids? Options: Ruki, Subaru, Azusa. Hmm... that’s a toughie. I’d kiss Azusa on the forehead, because he’s a cutie. Ruki on the cheek, but it would have to be quick because he is high key kind of scary... and Subaru on the eyelids, hehe. 

13.- Take care of Shu and Reiji in their Chibi form or take care of Subaru and Kino in their Chibi form? Shuu and Reiji, for sure. They’d both be so adorable in their chibi forms, I wouldn’t be able to handle myself!

14.- Sing/Perform in public Laito’s Q.E.D Song or Reiji’s Mr.ButterflyMask song? I prefer Reiji’s sadistic song... but in terms of singing? The english is a bit awkward for that, lol. I’d go with Q.E.D. ^^

15.- Would you rather wear Ruki’s casual outfit or Yuma’s casual outfit? I do like Ruki’s outfit, but Yuma takes the win here for me. It looks a lot comfier and although it would be waaaaay to big on me because Yuma is so tall, it would be pretty cosy <3

16.- Go on a Vacation trip with Shu, Kino and Ayato at a Amusement park or go with Shin, Azusa and Subaru at a Water Amusement Park? Going to an amusement park with Ayato sounds like SO much fun. Shu and Kino too? Sure! They wouldn’t be too back, but I reckon it’d be a better way to spend time than a water park...

17.- Would you rather get lost in a forest with Reiji, Kino and Kou or with Ruki, Carla and Kanato? Reiji. 100% I would trust that boy over anyone else when lost in the forest. Besides, if the others are stubborn and refuse to follow, we’ll just leave ‘em there and Reiji and I can spend some quality time alone :3

18.- Who would you cook breakfast for? Who would you make a scarf for? and Who would you do a drawing for? Options: Kou, Azusa, Shu. I think Azusa would be the kindest about my lack of drawing skills... so that <3 As for breakfast? Maybe Kou. and the scarf would be for Shuu because he’s a comfy boy that would enjoy comfy things like that. 

19.- Participate in a Circus as Carla’s Knife thrower assistant or go to a Casino with Shin and be offered as a bet/reward by him in the Roulette Wheel game? (So if Shin looses you’ll be taken away by whomever won) Hah, not a chance I’d trust Shin with that (sorry, my guy :( ) so i’d definitely have to say I’d be Carla’s knife throwing assistant. I sorta trust his aim ;-;

20.- Who would you rather catch by accident taking a shower, Yuma or Kanato? Pfft- Yuma, of course. I mean, can you just imagine that visual? What a lucky, lucky girl I would be to see that man’s chiseled chest, wet and untied hair, happy trail, and bare ass-cheeks-- (sorry, adhglsj)

                                   ✦❘༻༺❘✦

Ava: I’ll tag @reijisama , @ayatobio , @admin-sama , @danas-wonderland , @bloodiedtears , @strawberry--bride (either admin or Sharon!) and anyone else at all that would like to do it! Of course, feel free to not do it too. ^^

[gospelofme]

Code 30

Warnings: violence, blood, drama

Kix x female reader

Part 10

You continued to wake up a little bit more as the hour passed. Kix not leaving your side, his gentle whispers kept you grounded. You held onto them to avoid being pulled back into the realm of unconsciousness. You knew the sooner you woke up, the sooner you could go home.

A nurse walked in to check on you and hurried over to your side.

“How long has she been waking up?” She asked, checking the readings on the monitors.

“A little over an hour.” Kix responded, squeezing your hand. The nurse left and returned with a physician a few moments later.

“If she can wake up entirely on her own, with any help from medication, that would be preferred.” The physician said. You frowned when you felt Kix move away from you as he got up. You clutched his hand.

“It’s fine, I’m not leaving.” He assured softly.

“Keep checking on her every 10 minutes. Once she’s fully awake, we can start attempting to move her off the ventilator.” The physician ordered, the nurse nodded.

Things progressed slowly, but after three hours you were much more alert than you had been. About two hours after that, you were pretty much awake. You were frustrated with not being able to talk. You had so much you wanted to say. Sometimes Kix filled you in on what the kids were doing. Other times he napped and you watched him catch up on much needed rest.

“The kids want to come see you later this afternoon.” Kix informed. You wanted them here right now, but Kix had told you how late they’d been up. It had certainly been waaaaay passed their bedtime. You blinked to let him know you agreed, that was really all you could do. Turn your head side to side and blink. Nodding with a tube in your mouth that was attached to a machine behind you was too difficult.

As the morning and early afternoon wore on, you were anxious to get this tube out of your mouth. You hoped it would happen before the kids got here. Thankfully, something went your way for once. Once your physician finished listening to your lungs, he clapped his hands together once.

“Perfect. I don’t hear any rasping or any signs of fluid build up. I think we’re good to proceed with exubation. I’m sure you’re more than ready.” You raised your eyebrows and blinked in agreement. They started slowly weaning you off oxygen supply, checking your O2 stats regularly to ensure you were holding steady. Eventually you were down to just minimal support and everything was reading normal.

“Okay, the machine is off. Let me just remove the tape, then we’ll start getting this out. Sound good?” The physician asked, you nodded. The Zabrak was very careful as he peeled the tape from your cheeks, you held your head steady for him. Kix had backed off just a little, but couldn’t release his hand from your iron grip. Not that he would want to, but he felt like he had to make room for the doctor.

“Okay, when I say, I want you to take a deep breath in, exhale. Then take another deep breath, hold it, and I will pull the tube out. After I want you to cough and we’ll help suction out any secretions.” You grimaced at that, as well as you could. The Zabrak smiled.

“I know that sounds unpleasant, but that will help clear your lungs.” You blinked that you understood.

The process of exubation officially began.

“Okay, deep breath in.”

You took a deep breath.

“Exhale.”

You exhaled.

“Another deep breath for me.”

You complied.

“Hold it.”

You did. You felt the tube slide up your esophagus and out through your mouth. You coughed reflexively, the nurse encouraging you to continue coughing into a bucket she handed you. You had to release your husband’s hand for the first time in hours to hold the bucket close. After, the nurse auctioned out your mouth and an oxygen tube was looped under your nose.

“This is just to provide you with a little boost of oxygen. Just until we’re sure you hold stable.”

Kix wanted so badly to kiss you, but he knew how grossed out you had been over the exubation process. The nurse provided you with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouth wash and helped you feel fresh and clean. Once the nurse and doctor left, and you two were alone again, Kix’s lips were on yours in a flash.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You rasped, your throat was irritated from the tube and the coughing. The doctor had said it would take time to get better.

Kix continued to just kiss your cheeks, forehead, and lips. His hands gently holding your face.

“I shouldn’t have gone.” You added. Your husband stopped and looked at you.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have beaten yourself up if you hadn’t gone, and that guy had destroyed evidence and jumped off planet?” He said flatly. You didn’t respond. He was right. You would’ve been so angry with yourself.

“That’s what I thought.” Kix said in response to your silence. He kissed your jaw and cheek. “The only person I blame got hot plasma between the eyes.” He added. You quickly pulled him into a hug, one hand around his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. He carefully slid his arms around you and gently held you. You could tell he was holding himself up, he didn’t want to put his full weight on you. Understandable.

You laughed softly when you felt his lips on your neck, but quickly pushed him away when the door began to open.

“Mommy!”

Kaia rushed into the room, followed by Jesse and your parents. Your youngest wasted no time jumping into the end of your bed and carefully crawling to your side. You put your arms around her and pressed your lips to the top of her head. You closed your eyes tightly and forced yourself not to think about how close they’d been to losing you. Jesse was at your side moments later and you pulled your son into your arms. He wasn’t too keen on much “mushy” stuff, as he called it. But he threw that out the window for now.

The visiting progressed softly, your parents asking questions and you answering them as best as you could. You censored much of what had happened for their sake. You weren’t ready to talk about all that had happened yet. Eventually Commander Fox and his wife (your best friend and fellow Detective) arrived.

“Ugh, now you’re more badass than me!” Your friend said with faux disappointment as she hugged you. You laughed and shrugged. You were about to reply when Hound entered your room, carrying what looked like an arm load of towels.

“Sergeant...” Fox groaned.

“Ssshhhh, she wanted to say hi!” Hound replied quietly, closing the door behind him. The towels in his arms wiggled and Grizzer’s leg popped out from under it.

“You smuggled her in?!” You gasped, Fox shaking his head.

“You’d better not get caught.” He said.

“Pfft, Griz could be a therapy mastiff!” Hound put his four-legged partner on the floor, the mastiff hastily making her way to your bedside. You rubbed her head and scratched under her chin. She had bravely protected you after all. She didn’t know you at all, but had defended you all the same.

You were released from the hospital at the end of the week. The staff had wanted to be sure there were no complications from surgery and no signs of pneumonia from the ventilator. The first night you got into your own bed after this whole ordeal, you felt your muscles relax. You had taken a nice shower. The kids had been put to sleep. Your husband was next to you, his head on your chest and his arm draped across you. It wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep.

Tag List

@simping-for-fives

@jgvfhl

@carlycrays

@nelba

@showmetheclones

@leias-left-hair-bun

@xalvy-zen

@halzore

@porgnugget

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #459

“i wanted you to know that i love the way you laugh  /  i wanna hold you high and steal your pain away”

Does the person you like have any flaws? He's never seemed very expressive of what he feels. Has anyone ever given you a ring? Why? Yes. Because it was our anniversary and he wanted to, ig. If you ruled your own country, what type of government would it have? I'm not educated enough to answer this. Creation theory, Evolution or the Big Bang theory? I really don't know what I believe about the origins of the universe, but I do believe in evolution. Describe one of your most emotional farewells. The last time I saw Jason and we talked for a long time, and I finally got my closure. It was all so heavy. It started so stiffly, but it ended with us just chatting and smiling and, to my absolute shock, a hug from him. I'm getting emotional so NEXT QUESTION. What was your last serious conversation about? I was reassuring and comforting Sara about some stuff. Is there a city that you have a particular fondness for? If so, what city is it and why? No. Are there any gnomes in your yard? No. When was the last time you were stung by a bee? What kind was it? Years ago. A bumblebee. Are you gonna buy lottery tickets when you’re old enough? I am old enough, and no. The odds are way, way too small, and I don't really dabble in addictive behavior. Have you ever been into a real cave? No. :( That's a life goal, though. Have you ever posted mean comments on YouTube? I know I did once as a kid. It was regarding Meerkat Manor and I thought it was really disrespectful to Flower just because of the music chosen lmao. The drama. What color is your digital camera, if you have one? Black. If you had to spend one day in any movie storyline, which one would it be? Alice in Wonderland, I suppose? Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Oh man, I've played waaaaay too many video games. I suppose Silent Hill with how confused it left me at first. Its concept is definitely wild. Parasite Eve is high on the list, too. In your opinion, what is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Boy in the Striped Pajamas destroys me. What is the best song to make out to? I could answer this but I'm not gonna lmfao Is there anyone right now that you are simply/overly infatuated with? story of my life ayyyyeeeee Who was the last person to play with your hair? Are they cute? Not a clue. Who was the last person close to you that died? Did you cry? Jason's mom. I sobbed on-and-off for days. Do you consider yourself a healthy person? Physically and mentally? No, in either way. Do you know anyone who owns a boat? My dad does. I'm sure others, too, with how popular fishing out on a boat is here. Do you know anyone who uses medical marijuana? I don't know. Even for medicinal purposes, it's not legal here. Do you know anyone who’s died in childbirth? No. What did you do for your 21st birthday? I was in the psych hospital, so... lmao. Therapy, reading, and coloring. Lots of reading and coloring. Because they did NOT fill your schedule enough there. We only had two group therapy sessions a day, and the rest was just... blankness. If dinosaurs could be tamed, would you want one as a pet? I know I'd be one of the dumb ones that absolutely wanted a tiny raptor, lol. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? Not interested. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? I don't like soup. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? My first real series that I read religiously was Hank the Cowdog. Then it was Warriors. Do you buy Halloween candy when it’s on sale after the holiday? No. I really don't need candy available to me. Do you agree with the “they’re just being kids” excuse? It depends on what they're doing. In a lot of cases, no. Do you ever watch talk shows? No. Do you have a/any hero(s)? Mark Fischbach, Steve Irwin, my mom... Have you told your parents all of your secrets from when you were a teen? No. Though Mom has playfully once told me that she knows a lot of things I don't think she does, and that's terrifying lmao. You’re getting married. Who’s your maid of honor and best man? M.o.H.: Mom or Sara. Best man isn't my choice. Would you rather get highlights or dye your whole head? DYE IT ALLLLLLL. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? My friendship ring w/ Sara. It has a heart carved on the outside and "bitch" engraved inside so no one can see when you have it on, lol. She has one that says "jerk." It's a Supernatural reference. Who challenges you the most? In what way? My therapist and psychiatrist. They just help ensure I pursue my goals and give me little nudges forward to reassure me. Who seems to hold you back? In what way? PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT ME. I listen to my anxiety WAY too much. What was the last opportunity that you passed up, and why? Going up to Lake Gaston w/ Mom to visit Ash and her fam. They go there all the time, and it's a real nice place. I just didn't want to go because of the heat. Should there be an application process for having children? Hunny, that would not stop people from fuckin lmfao Name one thing that you think defines you as a person? m e e r k a t s What is a fear you have about living on your own? That depression would get the better of me and I'd neglect taking good care of my house. One of the many reasons I'll never live alone. Not at all saying I'd leave the responsibilities to my partner, but they'd be motivation for me to get stuff done. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. Nothing that bad. What’s your stance on spooning? It helps me feel safe and loved and alsdkfjalwe I just love cuddling in all sorts lmao What’s your most recent obsession? Violet Orlandi & Melodicka Bros' cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know." Have you ever been scammed? Ha ha, yes. I once wanted to get Jason a Joker and Harley Quinn pillow from deviantART; talked to the artist, paid 'em, never got it. :^) Have you ever fostered an animal? No. I would get WAY too attached to foster. I wouldn't be able to give them up without breaking down, probs. Do you know anyone who acts way younger than what they are? I'm sure I do, but no one is coming to mind atm. Would you say you’re a pretty independent person? God no. Does the last song you listened to, remind you of someone? JASON. Do you currently want a new computer? Yes, actually. I want a desktop PC for better gaming quality, honestly. Also, the "escape" key doesn't work on this laptop, one key is missing so I have to hit the sensor JUST right, and it restarts randomly sometimes. I want a PC mainly because I want to get out of the habit of being on my laptop in bed all damn day. How would your parents react if you got a tattoo? I already have like six or seven, so they wouldn't be surprised. Is there anyone you can picture yourself being with forever right now? Maybe. Who is your truest friend? Sara. What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? THIS house? Idk. Nothing that I'd consider odd. What bug frightens you most? STAG BEETLES lkadjslkfja;lwekjawl;kejrlawer Who is your oldest friend? That would be Sam, and he's in his mid-30s. How long have you known them? Many years. We met via WoW, which I've been playing since '14. I don't really remember how far into it we met, though. Where are they right now? lol I wouldn't know, he's all the way in Jersey. Plus we haven't talked in a while. Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? God no, that would be so weird. What is the best gift someone can give you? An ear to listen without it feeling like a chore to them. Have you ever dated someone who had a child? No. I don't think I could do it. What is the last movie that made you cry? The The Lion King remake made me tear up. Have you ever played in a waterfall? No. Ugh, that sounds like a blast. In your life who has meant the most to you? Let's not get into this. What has been your biggest failure in life? Letting depression and my other conditions take away my identity, becoming my new identity. Do you trust yourself? No. I second-guess EVERYTHING and never know what I should listen to: my heart, my head, my gut... or which voice is what. Would you ever consider getting an abortion, under any circumstances? Yes. What was the last bug you killed? Some kind in the bathroom. Idk what it was. Just a little thing that sort of resembled an earwig, but not completely. Do you prefer profile pictures by yourself of with someone else? By myself, since it's my page. Do you know anyone who has written a book? I don't think so? Do you drink milk/juice from the carton if no one is around? Ew, no. I live with another person, and even if I didn't, what if I had guests? Has anyone ever told you they liked you in a realllly sweet way? Maybe? Has a member of the opposite sex ever given you jewlery? Jason has. Do you find sleeping in cars easy? NOOOOOOOOOO. I'm too scared to let my eyes close and not see what's going on on the road. Has a boyfriend’s/girlfriend’s parents ever gotten mad at you? Why? I don't believe so, no. What is the funniest thing a child has ever said to you. Definitely something my niece has said, but idr what it was. What’s been on your mind lately? Y'all know, lol. Do you feel like you need to get something off your chest? No. Sara was recently there for that. ♥ How would you react if someone told you they had feelings for you? Be very very excited if it was from a certain person.

[buccigang-headcanons]

La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!

So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!

T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.

————

Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.

Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.

Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.

Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.

But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.

Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.

Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.

Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.

Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.

So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.

(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)

Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.

[fuck-you-i-am-spiderman]

Tourney player Mal AU

I've been having a lot of thoughts about this, and since y'all seem responsive to this idea I wanted to expand on my thoughts, I will be writing something for it (after I've finished the draft for my roadtrip fic). I’ve been reading a lot of Descendants fanfiction, initially my mind went to Malvie but as I thought more about this fic; I found I have waaaaay more ideas for the four and voila it hath become poly. It’s long, because I have a lot of feelings and I need them to all be protective over an injured Mal! So, here goes:

Established Rotten OT4. Sometime after the coronation happened. Ben is their supportive and sweet friend because I’m here for all the brotps!

Carlos doesn't want to play tourney, instead he joins robotics and the chemistry club. Evie is in the sewing club but will sometimes accompany Carlos to his chemistry club meetings.

Jay suffers from insomnia sometimes, he has so much energy he just can't sleep so he wakes a very grumpy Mal and practically carries her to the tourney field, where they practice. They get caught by a very impressed Coach who tries to coax Mal onto the team. She declines and that's that.

That is until Chad starts making fun of Carlos and saying how he's glad they've finally got the dead-weight off of the team, and Mal is LIVID. She curses Chad out and shouts in his face "a flying monkey would be better than you. Hell I could play better!" and Chad challenges her to prove it. Well, Mal never did back down from a challenge.

She has Jay, Ben and Coach all pleading with her to join the team. Jay drapes an arm around her shoulder and is like "together we're deadly, c'mon let’s show these losers what real talent is. What do ya say baby dragon?" (he whispers the nickname so only she can hear and it makes her whole face turn a violent shade of scarlet), after punching his shoulder she accepts.

Evie steals Mal's varsity jacket ALL THE TIME. Carlos has already claimed Jay's, and they are both defenseless when it comes to puppy eyes and pouting.

Mal and Jay really are lethal, they train so hard and usually come back from practice with bruises that definitely weren't there when they left that morning. On training days Jay grabs Mal breakfast and a strawberry smoothie, she's half asleep and grumpy but allows a small smile when he promptly arrives at the dorm door with her favourite beverage.

Carlos researches tourney tactics and finds old videos to help Mal and Jay come up with new moves. Mal rests her head on his shoulder as they watch through the videos together.

Evie sews little patches into Mal and Jay's uniform, a purple dragon on Mal's sleeve and a red cobra on Jay's. She had thought about trying to glitterify their numbers but thought better of it. She gets tackled in kisses after presenting her gifts. Carlos braids Mal's hair before the first game and Jay paints blue and yellow war-stripes across her cheeks. Evie kisses them both for good luck, linking arms with Carlos as they find a spot in the center of the stands.

Evie and Carlos make a banner and they wave it frantically during the game. Carlos explains the physics of the game to Evie as they watch in anticipation. They cheer so loudly and it’s the first time the AK’s have seen Evie and Carlos be the louder of the four.

The deadly duo are a force to be reckoned with, both super fast and determined. Mal is small and manages to sneak past players and weave through people. Jay does a roll-slide type of move and is literally leaping over people. They banter back and forth as they play, and team up to trash talk the other team. When Mal scores for the first time Jay picks her up and twirls her around in a spin-hug. (Examples: x x x) He would kiss her but Mal is already flushing far too much and ordering him to put her down, despite smiling.

Jay is on his way to score the last point they need to win when it happens. Mal was doing her best to cause enough of a distraction on her end for Jay to score, and he does right as a lumberjack of a player barrels into Mal and sends her flying through the air. She lands with a loud thud and a sharp crack. 

When Mal goes down everything stops: Evie screams so loudly, Carlos is tugging her down the steps and they're pushing past everyone to get to her. Jay is being held back by Ben, Chad and numerous other players to stop him from pummeling the asshole who had sent Mal literally flying through the air. Evie goes to calm him whilst Carlos rushes to Mal's side, she's so pale and his hands are shaking as he cups her face, she gives him a weak smile but it's cut off as she flinched, moving is too much and she collapses into him. Evie talks to Jay in a loving but firm tone, reminding him they need to make sure Mal is okay before attacking anyone else. 

Once Jay has calmed down enough he scoops Mal into his arms and carries her to the infirmary, with Evie, Carlos, Ben, Lonnie, Audrey, Jane, Doug and even Chad racing after them.

Carlos sits in the seat nearest Mal's head, leg bouncing and hand holding Mal’s uninjured one. Evie sits with Mal's legs in her lap, gently running her hands over Mal's legs in a slow motion. Jay paces back and forth infront of the bed. The others all sit a little further back, observing the four in what feels like the most natural positions on earth. 

Jay has to stop himself interjecting when Mal is getting bandaged up, Evie tugs him close, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as they let the medical professional do their job. 

Mal isn’t seriously hurt, mainly superficial cuts and bruises but her right arm is f*cked. She pouts over having to wear a cast but after seeing the concerned faces around her she decides to grin and bear it. 

Her cast is a light lilac and they all spend a good hour doodling over it and writing little messages, Evie has to stop Jay from being too crude (it makes Mal laugh). 

Once her cast is sufficiently decorated the others leave the four to themselves. Carlos gets in the bed with Mal (the second they’re alone) and curls up on her good side; she whispers that's she's okay and safe, he nods but cuddles tighter. Evie and Jay stay near Mal’s feet, Evie’s head resting on Jay’s chest as they both breathe a collective sigh of relief.  When they get back to the dorm they have a cuddle pile with Mal in the middle which is quite rare, all curled around her in various positions.

They all dote on her whilst she’s healing because she can't do everything alone, not that Evie would let her if she tried. Jay carries her bags everywhere, he won't even let Mal carry her lunch tray and drapes a protective arm around her shoulder. Carlos is clingier than usual, he is always cuddling her and gets her lots of strawberries to cheer her up. Evie is almost as bad as Jay, she gets in her "mothering mode" which is basically reprimanding Mal if she so much as lifts a finger, she runs Mal baths and is like "I have to get in, you can't get your cast wet" and is like "don't even think about going to practice Mal Bertha". 

Mal protests and denies needing their affection, that she is daughter or Maleficent, a dragon and she does not need to be babied. They shake their heads and kiss her softly, whispering how much they love her and throw in a couple of pouts for good measure. She begrudgingly (but not really since she secretly loves their protectiveness) lets them fawn over her, thanking evil that she found them.

[mymindsmadness]

Why I hate seeing the Uchiha logo on Sakura’s shirt/why I don’t ship SasuSaku

DISCLAIMER: I’m not shitting on anyone’s ship. I get it. You love them. You do you booboo, I’m just here to speak my truth. Don’t come at me with comments shitting all over the things I love. You have your opinion and I have mine.

If you are a SasuSaku shipper and you read past this point, you have no one but yourself to blame for your anger!

I’m probably gonna rant a bit, so I’ll start with the bottom line. Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship is one of the most toxic relationships I’ve ever seen.

Unrelated (but kind of related): All the female character are written pretty shitty, and that adds to this whole mess.

Part I [Young Love]:

Okay. I get it. She’s all for Sasuke and he doesn’t give her the time of day. We love a queen that gets hers in the end. The problem is that Sakura’s core personality traits are based off of her obsession. Her wants. Her flaws. Her essence as a [non] person is completely defined by Sasuke’s character. This is even verified when Kakashi asks them about themselves and Sakura literally gives [giggles] Sasuke for every answer.

When they’re tested with the bells, Sakura shows no ninja prowess whatsoever. She shows no skill beyond hiding in a bush. The only time we really see her moving/thinking/talking, is when it’s to ‘rescue Sasuke’. She even refers to him as ‘my Sasuke’ a dozen or so times. Seriously, it could be a drinking game.

During the chunin exams, we see a little more of a backbone from Sakura. But even as she struggles to make herself be seen, she really only wants to be seen by – you guessed it – Sasuke.

When Sasuke gets extra angsty [YOLO style], and tries to leave the village, Sakura tries to go with him. Think about that. Sakura tries to leave the village. Her home. Her family. Her friends. Everything! She does this because the idea of becoming a criminal is more appealing than being left behind by Sasuke.

But you know what? I’ll excuse it. She’s only thirteen at this point. She’s entitled to make stupid choices in the name of puppy love. We’ve all been there, man. And sure, at thirteen all love feels like true love. You know what girl? I forgive you.

Part II [Personal Growth]

At this point, Sakura’s whole character arch is defined by the people that leave her. And I could forgive this – almost. Enter Tsunade. I love Tsunade. I worship Tsunade. She is probably the one female character in the whole show that is as well integrated as the men [if we ignore the fact that her whole backstory is revolved around them]. When Sakura started training with Tsunade, I knew there was about to be an Eye of the Tiger montage. Sure enough, my girl comes through. Come Shippuden, Sakura is kicking ass and taking names [literally]. Better yet, she found her niche in medical ninjutsu [insert joke about how females always play the healers]. She’s got chakra for days and the control of a saint. Piss my girl off? You ‘bout to lose a lung.

Yes, Sakura’s still insecure when it comes to her place among the others, but can we blame her? She had demi-gods as teammates. But it’s different now. Sakura knows she’s a badass. She’s fully aware that her control and strength are something to be proud of. She uses those years of neglect and training to help her comrades!... and chase down Sasuke.

By the beginning of the 4th war, this bitch has lost her damn mind. At this point, Sakura and Naruto have been searching for Sasuke for the last 3 [or so] years. All this time, Sakura is under the impression that she’s in love with him. The times from when Sasuke left to the end of the war, are some of the most defining years in a person’s life. At 13-17 is when a person’s personality really starts to develop and lay out the foundation for the adult they will be.

Part III [All’s Fair]

Now, I’m not saying that Sakura didn’t hold a certain level of love for Sasuke her whole life. It’s very possible. However, there was no way it could be a romantic love. Think about who you were when you were twelve. Now think about who you were at seventeen. Did anything change in that time?

Sakura could not have been in love with Sasuke because she didn’t know who he was. They hadn’t been in contact in years! She had the memory of who he had been on a pedestal, and without him around to alter that image, it became more and more idyllic. By the time Sasuke returned [at the end of the war], Sakura was still in love with the idea of him.

She had put their relationship and romance in the forefront of her mind all of her life. It had been her driving force and defining mindset. When this crazy ass bitch [ily gurl] activated her seal and literally jumped on a pike for her boys, it was the most badass thing she’d ever done. And when she was done with that? She got upset that Sasuke hadn’t noticed/cared. She was fighting for her friends, her family, her village, her life… and all that confidence she had gained was brought down by the fact that the boy she thought she loved didn’t notice.

Part IV [In Which Sasuke Cares… Allegedly]

Remember when Sakura finally got Sasuke to notice her? When he overcame his terminal broodiness and admitted that he was touched that she never gave up hope in him? When he kissed her goodbye with the promise of returning and being worth all of her unfounded love and attention?

Oh… right… that never happened.

I mean… he tapped her forehead like Itachi did to him that one time… Same thing I suppose.

Okay, okay… I might be being a little harsh. I’ll concede that it is a genuine act of affection for Sasuke. But… a minor one. Alright, our broody boi doesn’t like PDA… Still, we’re given no indication that they talked about their feelings before this goodbye. That’s backed up by the fact that she asks to go with him – something she would have done before now if they had. Legit, Naruto got more of a goodbye than Sakura did [two dudes, chillin’ in the woods].

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, Sasuke only stayed in Konoha for about a year after the war. Now, depending if you follow the manga or anime, some of that time might have been in jail. My point is, that a year or less was spent in the village after several years of Sakura loving him from a distance.

At this point, she very well might have learned about the older Sasuke. She might have decided that she did still love him [doubtful on a realistic level]. But then he leaves. We’re not sure for how long, but if we look at Boruto, it’s common for him to leave for long periods of time.

Once again, Sakura is left behind with her memories of the man she thinks she loves [because without a functioning adult relationship, there’s no way to be sure].

Part V [Sakura Achieves Her Nightmare Dreams]

Let’s step into Boruto for this next part. We flash forward to all of our beloved characters in their adult years. I know what you’re thinking ‘Oh! I’ve missed so much! They’re all so grown up!’. Hahaha, don’t worry. They’re not at all the same people.

Since the series is based on the children, we’re forced to fill in some of the blanks ourselves. Sakura – the best medic nin in Konoha. The woman whose strength rivals that of her mentor’s. The woman who mastered the Seal of 100. The woman who grew into her own as a character, even if the driving force was a boy - is living her best life as… a housewife? I mean... maybe?

We don’t know this for sure, and a lot of us hope she runs the hospital or something [because we want all good things for our girl], but have you noticed that she doesn’t wear a headband? A ninja one that is. The girl who worked hard to not be left behind’s whole adulthood is… the woman left behind.

Even if it can be argued that she achieved her goal… has she? Yes, she wanted to be Sasuke’s wife and baby mama since waaaaay too young of an age to be thinking about that shit, but like this? We know from the fact that Sakura fainted when Sasuke came home that he’s rarely there. This means that she probably raised their daughter alone. Even now, she can’t just leave because Sasuke’s always away.

If you think I’m taking libraries with filling in the gaps, I refer you to that one time her daughter basically asked if they were really married. And if you think I’m exaggerating Sasuke’s absence, I refer you to that time he almost killed his fucking daughter because he didn’t know what she looked like!

Let that sink in.

Part VI  [In Summation]

Sakura was a girl that grew up with a false ideal of love. She obsessed over a person that didn’t exist and carried that falsehood into her adult life. When presented with everything she thought she had wanted her whole life, Sakura jumped on the chance because it was the logical move. In gaining everything that she thought she wanted, Sakura lost any personal growth that she had gained by the absence of her obsession aka Sasuke.

Sasuke, who had ignored her as a child, tried to kill her as a teen, and barely acknowledged her beyond using her to revive his clan, can’t be bothered to even appreciate her. Even as he leaves again as an adult, he says goodbye to their daughter [again, with an oh-so-affectionate poke], but simply walks away from Sakura.

The truth is that given the way she blushes and faints around him still, Sakura doesn’t know him. She’s still in love with an idea of the man that grew from the boy she had been obsessed with all her life. She wears the Uchiha symbol on her back as a reminder that she did it. She got the guy! True love wins again! I mean… maybe? He’s fucked her at least, so…

There’s a chance that Sasuke loves Sakura. I think he loves her for loving him. At the very least, we know he’s fond of her… I assume.

Sakura was a character that was used to further the plot of a man. Even as an adult, she’s left to sit and pine as the boys go off on their adventures. She’s a woman that’s stuck in a hell of her own creation – even if she loves her daughter and the things that marrying Sasuke has brought her.

There’s ‘getting the guy’ and being trapped in a toxic idealized relationship. How you choose to see this one is up to you.

[hmsannlett]

Foe the salty asks:

4. Do you have a NoTP?

25. Would you change the ending of Anna/Hewlett(/Selah)???

4. Anna/Abe is a big nope for me and is probably the ship that irks me the most on the show because there’s so many destructive elements to it, and yet the show just kept pushing it. Their relationship has huge collateral damage for everyone who has the misfortune of getting dragged into it and, imo, does a disservice to both their characters (especially/mainly Anna).

Anna/Simcoe also bothers me, because she could not more clearly be terrified of him, and he uses that against her and doesn’t respect any of the times that she says no to him. It especially strikes a negative chord with me because I’ve been in Anna’s position more than a few times with men that just won’t take a no (although not to the extent that Simcoe took it to), so I truly empathize with the powerlessness that she feels. It’s the worst position to be in, and to feel completely alone like she does makes the situation all the more unsettling.

Both ships are unhealthy in their own ways, imo. Fortunately, neither ship is/has been very popular in the fandom.

25. Oh, goodness. So many thoughts on this. I’ll try to not write a whole thesis here lol and just distill it down to my main thoughts.

In short, yes, I would love a different ending. I will preface all of this, though, by saying that I’d like married couples to be happy with each other and remain together as much as anyone. I’m not completely against the idea of Anna/Selah (though Annlett is my fav and will always be my otp); I just don’t agree with how all of Anna/Selah was written and how Anna/Selah/Hewlett ended.

So, from a writing perspective, I think Selah was brought in too late in S4 to have the character development that he needed after how he was depicted in S1 (and, according to the show’s writers, Anna and Selah were supposed to have a pretty unhealthy dynamic in S1; some of these scenes had to be cut for time constraints, though, so we only get small glimpses of this dynamic). There wasn’t much opportunity to connect positively with Selah in S1 or S4, and as a result, his quick character arc in S4 (to me) breaks the age-old writing rule of showing vs. telling.

There’s no buildup to Anna’s and Selah’s reunion that shows him growing as a character or even what it was that caused him to grow and respect Anna. Why would he suddenly respect her now in S4 more than he did in the first part of S1 after she all but said that she wanted to end their marriage by jumping from the boat, publicly humiliating him, and causing their lengthy separation – during a time period when desertion/an extended period of separation was, in some of the colonies, considered equal to divorce? There’s no apparent motivation (that we’re shown) to inspire his growth. We’re just told as an audience that he’s changed, and I think that weakens the growth that the writers were aiming for. It could be that Selah spent a lot of time reflecting while he was in Philadelphia, but we don’t get to see that onscreen. And for me, what is shown on the screen is much more convincing and effective than whatever we are told happens off-screen.

My other issues with Anna/Selah’s ending are that

1.) If their relationship was so unhealthy before, is his change in how he treats her sustainable? (Would he still treat her with respect after he found out/got confirmation about her affair w/Abe? That tended to make a woman “damaged goods” back then.)

2.) If Anna feels that “he’s not the same man I married,” why then does she seem so upset in 4.10 when they return to Setauket and in the epilogue? It seems like the story ends w/Anna being in exactly the same spot she was in in S1 – unhappy w/her life for whatever reason – and feels like she had more of a character circle than a character arc. She didn’t really end up anywhere different than where she started, even though she had grown so much throughout the show. It just feels like lazy writing to me, and I had really hoped that all of Anna’s sacrifices and growth during the war would be rewarded (even if that wasn’t necessarily a future w/Hewlett like my shipper heart wanted).

Conversely, there was excellent growth shown between Anna and Hewlett, both individually and as a couple. We got to watch each of them grow to respect each other’s character, sacrifice for each other, and fight for each other over the span of almost two seasons – and do so even when both of them felt there was no hope that the relationship could continue. There was a purity and selflessness to their relationship that none of the other relationships on the show were really able to capture, and, imo, is absent from most relationships in films/shows. And I had hoped that that kind of character development would be rewarded or at least considered in S4 after dedicating so much screen time to it. I also feel that Hewlett offers what Anna truly wants: respect, agency, and to be seen as a person, an equal. Like I said above, I don’t know if Selah could offer that level of respect long-term in their relationship. I’d like to hope so, for Anna’s sake, but she definitely doesn’t seem satisfied to me in 4.10.

Anna and Hewlett each left a significant mark on each other and were an enormous part of each other’s individual growth, and I feel like that was largely ignored in S4. For two characters so dedicated to their causes (and practically acting as the epitomes of the two sides’ warring ideologies) to be able to see each other as people and respect the person/character they saw in each other, even at the end of their relationship, is huge. And it seems like the writers just abandoned that without a second thought because they felt that they (finally) had to be historically accurate.

So for me, it’s disappointing that a show that was so heavily focused on character development (and, by and large, executed that development very well throughout the seasons) took what felt like a cop out and didn’t fully realize/fulfill Anna’s, Selah’s, and Hewlett’s individual character arcs. Since the showrunners felt they had to keep Anna/Selah for historical accuracy, I would have preferred that their relationship had been given more time to develop before his arrival in S4 because they had grown very far apart and had significant issues to address before moving forward. But ideally, of course, my Annlett shipper self would have liked the writers to stick with the two seasons of character development between Anna and Hewlett, resolve their relationship, and find a way of kindly writing Selah out (because, tbh, he kind of deserves a better ending too. Anna did betray him deeply, and it’s a lot to ask of him to just overlook/forgive that and move forward with their relationship. Furthermore, I don’t know that Anna is capable of really, truly loving him – it’s always come off as more loyalty/obedience to me – and that’s not a very satisfying conclusion for his character either). And as for how I would end Anna/Selah/Hewlett…well, there is a fic in the works…

Annnnd this is over 1k and has indeed become a thesis, so I’ll leave it at that because this is probably waaaaay more than you wanted lol. This post pretty much hits the nail on the head (succinctly! unlike me lol) with my frustrations about the writing of Anna/Selah/Hewlett and the closure of their character arcs/relationship arcs, as well as the balance of character development and historical accuracy. If you want me to explain any of my litany of thoughts more than I have here (this is the best I can do at an overview of all my thoughts lol; I have many), I can write responses/metas that go into more detail. :)

tl;dr: I wish the show had decided earlier on whether it was going to go with the character development it had created or with historical accuracy, because I don’t feel either Anna/Hewlett or Anna/Selah got the ending they deserved. Annlett was left with two seasons of development unfinished and forgotten, and Anna/Selah was drawn to a close without enough development to make it feel truly convincing for me.

[the-busy-ghost]

Thoughts on TSP S2E05- The Plague

Well that was An Episode. Actually I thought the writing in this one was a little better than the other episodes (at least until the last three minutes or so, what the fuck), and I did like some of Katherine’s speeches this time. Nonetheless some thoughts:

- Firstly, I would like to see the casting call. Do they cast for ‘Whispering Lady #1′ and ‘Whispering Lady #2′? Seems like you could make a career out that, given how often they appear in period dramas.

- How long has Sir William Compton been ill? I know the plague was a terrifyingly quick disease but you would think someone would have noticed he looked a bit peaky BEFORE he dropped dead in the middle of the hallway. Also they’ve established that he’s the physically closest person to the king and yet nobody is at all focused on checking to see if Henry is well?

- I really feel like they’re setting up Anne and Katherine’s relationship to be Bessie Mark 2. Like Anne is going to be portrayed as a close attendant and confidant and then stab Katherine in the back, thus robbing Anne (and indeed Bessie) of any independent motivation or justification.

- Could they call this episode Bessie Blount and the Fastest Three Year Pregnancy in England

- And while we’re on the subject poor Bessie. I really feel like she’s been robbed a little by the writing (not by the actress, Chloe Harris is great). She doesn’t get to say a word in her defence until halfway through (the silent Other Woman), and then we’re supposed to believe that being the king’s mistress was such a huge dishonour she’d be chucked out, and then the only reason she is restored to favour is probably going to be because of Katherine? That’s a lot to saddle on one woman. I was already a supporter of the Bessie Blount defence squad and I am quietly seething on her behalf. Also I feel like they could have had Katherine help at the birth IN LITERALLY ANY OTHER WAY THAT WAS VERY GROSS AND NOT AT ALL SAFE AND THEN YOU JUST LEFT HER THERE BLEEDING AND FUCKED OFF WITH HER BABY

- Katherine “what did you think I was going to use it for” WELL SURE I DON’T KNOW KATHERINE BUT HOW IS THIS BETTER??? The Myranda absolutely JUMPED out here, I cannot even BEGIN to describe how appalled I am.

- Also again is this supposed to be a sympathetic portrayal? Snatching baby Henry away from his mother before she’d even held it? Even if you hate her it’s a dick move especially since you are known to dislike the pregnancy and you also just pulled a knife on her? And you won’t even hold your own daughter so like double shit?

Anyway moving on...

- They are really playing up the ‘Wolsey lives vicariously through Henry’s mistresses’ vibe this episode. It is A Lot

- Also how does Stafford always manage to say things in literally the grossest way possible. Who gave Olly Rix these lines.

- Lol @Wolsey just dropping his cardinal’s hat casually into the conversation. Classy.

- Nobody “understands” Henry. Except Wolsey of course. Poor misunderstood baby king, AYE RIGHT.

- Mary’s storyline was actually pretty well done. They ARE cute. But I suppose it’s easier to pull off the ‘beautiful princess in arranged marriage and secret wedding’ plot than anything more complex like Margaret’s. I’m still not over the fact that that is very clearly Waddesdon though.

- *Technically* I’m not sure their marriage actually counts as treason, in the terms of the fourteenth century treason acts, but I’m no expert on that so I could be wrong. Just seems that period dramas throw the word treason around a lot when it had quite a specific meaning in England (in Scotland not so much, it’s a very flexible word there).

 - Mega Feminist Katherine of Aragon refusing to touch her daughter and continuing to refer to her as a ‘useless girl’. 100% Accurate and Feminist portrayal this (not). But Girl Power right?

- Awkward sex scenes GALORE this episode

- Margaret’s storyline was... somewhat comprehensible this episode but still a bit naff. Not the actors fault, they are doing their best. But I suppose it works? I do have some specific thoughts on details on that though, so more below

- Do I have to keep pointing out that James V WAS the king not the future king? Did you all miss the mourning coronation or something? Also the ‘Stewart clan’ does not “insist” on anything, because that is waaaaay too simplistic and also the wrong terminology.

- Albany’s line about ‘civilised company’- I mean as a Scot OUCH but also it’s quite believable coming from him I suppose, wee John was not a huge fan of Scotland.

- Holyroodhouse was not part of Margaret’s dower so far as I’m aware? At least it wasn’t traditionally part of queens’ dowers in Scotland and it wasn’t in any of the documents I’ve seen made at the time of her marriage.  It also had a freaking abbey attached to it (though tbh, that had fallen into decline a bit by the early sixteenth century). So why not pretend you’re using one of Margaret’s actual dower houses, further north? Also if I were Angus and I was trying to hide out from the Duke of Albany while illegally retaining control of James IV’s illegitimate children, I would probably go to the much more secure castle of Tantallon, not Holyrood. But everything has to happen in Edinburgh I suppose.

- Ok it’s a tiny detail but I am still exercised about the Presence of James IV’s illegitimate children. Firstly, how are they all still kids?? The only one who should still be under the age of twelve in 1516 (or 1519? God knows when this is) is Janet Stewart, the future Lady Fleming and daughter of the Countess of Bothwell. There is no evidence that she was ever raised at court and her mother Agnes was still very much alive (she actually spent Christmas with Margaret Tudor at Morpeth after the queen’s flight into England). 

The others were either dead (Alexander via Flodden and a few who died in infancy), married adults (Katherine, Countess of Morton, and Margaret, Lady Gordon- the latter *might* have also been in a relationship with Albany’s older brother Alexander Stewart at this time, it’s unclear), or teenagers approaching adulthood who were either on the continent or in Albany’s camp (James, Earl of Moray). 

SECONDLY how does it AT ALL fall in Margaret’s purview to raise them, let alone that of the Earl of Angus. Margaret could theoretically have stepped in as a benefactor- that’s not unknown and the royal family was a wide concept so Albany and Margaret sometimes did act on behalf of royal cousins and illegitimate children- but Angus? Even Jane Stewart of Traquair would theoretically have more right to one of the children than him (and NOT because of some stupid ‘Stewart clan’ nonsense) since wee Janet Stewart was probably her first cousin. (Margaret Stewart, Lady Gordon was Angus’ first cousin but once again, she was a married woman with children of her own). Although if they’re implying this was a political move on Angus’ part then that would have been a smart move- having custody of James IV’s illegitimate children could be quite useful politically, as later events involving both Albany and Margaret Tudor showed. But since the show has sort of been implying that they’re useless and that Margaret is stuck with them, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

- Also none of this is how a pre-contract works, and while we know very little about Jane Stewart of Traquair anyway, it’s clear that the show knows even less. But we love to see the Earl of Angus torn to shreds by both Margaret and Jane. One would hope that that was him Telt but sadly we all know this isn’t the case.

- Oh and a woman! In Scotland! Who is Scottish! We’re not cryptids after all! And she was then immediately chucked out.

- Also he just... walks off?? No attendants, no kinsmen, no horses? Do the writers have any idea of the level of power and status the Earl of Angus theoretically held?

- One of the men behind Margaret had A Line. I fear this is how Henry Stewart is being introduced to us.

- Can they shut up about the god damn kilts for TWO. MINUTES.

- BUT the real award for the most truly disappointing thing about this episode goes to the fact that we are now unlikely to get the Margaret and Mary reunion we all deserve. I mean I cannot BELIEVE this show passed up the opportunity to show the Queen of England and the dowager Queens of Scotland and France all acting in consort after the Evil May Day Riots. But then I suppose they would have to deal with that event in a sensitive fashion which like, I do not see them doing. I am genuinely disappointed by this, since the actresses are doing their best and I think it might actually have been a good scene. And it would have been an excuse for some fabulous costuming.

Anyway. That’s about all I’ve got.

[syndicatespeckoc]

Oh Look, It’s G/T Angst!

Or, I’m not good at writing titles and this is an angsty story. I wrote it in late October, and I didn’t really have anywhere to put it until now.

Word count: 1659

Warnings: feelings of worthlessness, depression, attempted suicide, fear, swearing, general angst

Another monotonous day finished, the drab lull of dreamless sleep awaiting. I climbed into my home with my bag of ill-gotten goods, not anything important or that would be noticed, mind you, just what I need to get by.

It seemed like pickings were getting worse and worse. He couldn’t know about me, could he? No, that would be impossible. I’ve taken every precaution to make sure I’m nothing more to him than a few missing crumbs and a misplaced pin here and there.

I curled up in my bed, the slow creaking of the house around me of little comfort. I can’t keep going like this, I thought as I heard the floorboards creak outside the wall and reflexively tensed. He was moving about.

Eventually, the noise died down, and the emptiness took hold, both outside the wall and in my head. It felt like my chest was collapsing, a gap forming between my lungs. I curled up tighter than before, trying to defend my feeble body from this unknown assailant, until sleep’s relieving bliss took hold.

I awoke with a start, the buzzing cacophony of his alarm carrying easily into my home between the walls. I opened my eyes and checked the watch face I had mounted to the wall. 6:45, same as always. I sighed and slumped out of bed, the day ahead seeming to be a repeat of the last, and the day before, and the day before, the monotony carrying back as far as I could remember. I couldn’t take it anymore, this had to stop. 

I checked that the coast was clear as I emerged from the hole I had made behind the refrigerator, I heard nothing other than the usual ambient hum. I walked out onto the countertop, much farther out than I would usually dare to go, the threat of being seen far too great of a motivator. Now, all of that was out the window, as I reached the edge of the counter.

I looked down to the floor from my precarious position, the drop seeming to be sufficient for my needs. “I can’t really be considering this, can I?” I couldn’t help but begin to second guess myself, the idea of ending it all simultaneously tantalizing and terrifying.

I started towards the edge, and froze. There was a creaking noise, just around the corner. He emerged into view, thankfully having not noticed me, to busy checking something on his phone. I slowly began to edge my way back to safety, when he entered the room and looked up for a second, taking a double take as he caught a glimpse of me. I hauled ass toward the hole behind the fridge. Thankfully, he didn’t follow me, probably dismissing me as some sort of hallucination. 

“Shit, that was waaaaay too close,” I was short of breath as I entered my room once more. A moment’s hesitation, and I would have been seen. In all my 22 years, that was the closest I’ve ever been to being caught. The day may have been young, but it had already ended for me. Everyone knows nothing but trouble comes from being seen by humans. I decided to spend the rest of the day in the wall, watching him move around from one room to the next. He eventually decided to lie down, and I knew it was time to go out for the night. 

I emerged from a different hole, this one located behind his dresser, a list of what I needed kept safe in my head. I went about, grabbing what little I had to get, until I was finished, ready to head back. I was on his nightstand, having climbed up there to grab something from its drawer.

I gazed across at him, his form gently shifting around as he slept. For some unknown reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. A small voice was urging me to stay, to keep gazing. Maybe it was that same voice which had urged me to jump earlier, one clearly not concerned for my personal safety. Perhaps it was some sort of strange fascination with this human, but whatever the motivation, I felt that I had to get closer to him.

I gave myself a running start and leapt across the divide between his nightstand and his bed. I landed with a tumble, thankfully it didn’t rouse him. I walked across the bed, taking in the view. His arm was draped over the side of the bed, dangling as a heavy object would from a crane.

I clambered over his shoulder and continued for a short time further, stopping in my tracks. I could see his chest rise and fall with each breath, a rhythmic reminder that the vast slope which confronted me was, in fact, a living creature. I endeavored to climb this living mountain, and pass unnoticed. Why I felt the need to, I hadn’t the faintest clue, but I went ahead regardless.

I clambered up on top of the blanket, and began to traverse the expanse, an uneasy feeling spreading from my ears. I knew instinctively what it meant: trouble. I tensed in anticipation, but only saw him slightly stir in his sleep. I relaxed, and then his hand came down on top of me.

The fleshy appendage had moved from its resting place at the side of the bed to lying on his chest, pinning me there with a weight I couldn’t hope to lift. I was trapped. I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe, and I was pretty sure that this would be the end of me. I felt the rise and fall of his chest, like a boat upon a gentle sea, I felt the gentle thumping of his heart far beneath me, a rhythm to lull me to sleep. All of a sudden I was… I was… I wa… I .  .  .

Shit. 

I feel asleep, dammit! I’m dead. He’s gonna see me, and crush me under his boot or something, I don’t know. All I knew was that my minutes left on this world were numbered. I looked about my surroundings, I was still covered by his hand, he was still in bed, but now he was awake. Not only was he awake, but he was looking me dead in the eye.

I began to struggle. I didn’t chicken out of killing myself only to be killed by him the very next day! I managed to pry myself from his grasp, and began to book it. He scrambled to catch me, but I had a head start on him, I was already sliding off the bed while he was wrestling with his sheets to get off himself. I was running faster than I ever had before, the sheer adrenaline rush of the chase fueling me to travel at unsafe speeds. 

It wasn’t enough, though. He was closing, fast. I had nowhere to run, I was trapped. He backed me slowly into a corner where he loomed menacingly overhead. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice not dissimilar to my own, albeit much louder. “What… are you?”

I curled up into a ball in the corner, ready yet unwilling to accept my inevitable demise. I began to slowly shake, quiet sobs quaking through my body. He saw my body shake, the small noises I was making and he saw my face, absolutely terrified. His eyes widened, his own face contorting into one of fear and disgust- contempt for what he had done.

I seized my opportunity and ran again. It was only a short distance now, and he was still shocked by what he had done. “Nononono wait wait wait!” I heard him call as I disappeared into one of my many holes. I slumped against the wall, and heard a loud thump as it seemed like he did the same.

“I’m sorry little guy,” I heard him speak through the wall, directly to me, “I didn’t realize how freaky this has got to be for you. I didn’t want to hurt you, I saw you yesterday, on the counter. You looked miserable. I looked up again and you were gone.”

I had no words for him, he might as well walk away. 

“I just wanted to meet you… I couldn’t even do that right.” I heard something well up in his voice, something I had never before detected, not in all the times he had spoken, despair. “It’s not like I can do anything else, all I seem to do is fuck things up…” I heard him get up, and slowly walk away. “I’m sorry little guy. I’ll leave you alone. You probably don’t want me around, most people don’t.”

His footsteps faded. I felt something I had not felt in a long time, kinship. Here I was, feeling isolated, alone, worthless, and there he stood, saying the same things I had been telling myself for ages. I emerged from my home and moved in the direction I had heard him go. I ended up in his bedroom, his form taking up a different shape on the bed from normal. He was curled up in a ball, much like what I do when the hopelessness sinks in. He was quivering slightly, soft sobs audible from beneath the blanket he had wrapped himself in.

I ascended the bed and looked at him, poor soul, in the same position I had found myself in many, many times before. I slowly approached his shaking form and placed a hand on him, trying to reassure him. Eventually I leaned my whole body against him, embracing what little I could in an attempt to comfort him.

He felt the small presence on his back and rolled around to face me, tears still steaming down his face. I stood there, and simply leaned against his cheek, taking it into my arms as I comforted him as best as I could.

————

Well, thanks for making it to the end! I don’t really write all too often, so any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! My asks are always open if you have story ideas or just want to chat.

[flutistbyday-1]

More Like Her

Wacky Drabbles #30

I am participating in @emceesynonymroll wacky drabbles. This week’s prompt is “I’m not afraid to use this” and will highlighted by bold text.

BOOK: TRR3/THR (AU, slightly left of canon.)

Characters; Riley (MC), Hana, Olivia, Penelope, Kiara, and Madeleine.

Word Count: 1,100 plus. Oops. It needed come out of my soul, y’all. I don’t apologize. 🤣

I have wanted to write this for a minute. I’ve honestly always felt bad for Madeleine, and this is how I image Madeleine dealt with things.

Song Inspiration: “More Like Her” by Miranda Lambert. (Follow the link to listen.)

PS- I am trying to learn how to make the “keep reading” link work but I’m solely on mobile 🤷🏼‍♀️

———

Madeleine sighed.

She didn’t necessarily hate coming to court functions, but she couldn’t stand the looks of pity she received from, well, everyone.

She was sitting at a table caddy-corner to Riley, Hana, Penelope, Kiara, and Olivia. There was an empty spot at the table; the name card in front of the plate had Madeleine elegantly written.

Riley was hosting a brunch for the ladies at court. The press had been in attendance, to show how the ladies at court met regularly to help the duchies. There had been a few male court members, but they had been shooed shortly after the press.

“You’ll always have a place at my court, Madeleine,” Riley has said at her homecoming ball.

“Liam’s court,” Madeleine had hissed.

It didn’t matter that Madeleine was hurt that day— it was Riley’s court, too. Madeleine couldn’t figure out how, but Riley had made Cordonia fall head over heels with her, too. Not just Liam.

I guess she’s pretty . . . In a quaint, American way, Madeleine mused, looking over her glass of champagne to Riley.

Riley had made a good Queen; a fair and kind ruler, much to Madeleine’s dismay. She had hoped Riley would fail epically and come crawling back. Riley had asked Madeleine to be her press secretary. That had been . . . Okay. Not wonderful, but okay.

Madeleine couldn’t force herself to hate Riley, as much as she wanted to.

“Madeleine,” Riley called to her, “why don’t you come join us?” Riley looked at her with a smile.

Madeleine sighed internally and forced herself to smile back at Riley. She stood and made her way to her replacement. “I need to powder my nose and I’ll be right back.” Madeleine was surprised by the sincerity in her voice.

“Riley, I don’t understand why you’re so nice to her,” Olivia quipped when she thought Madeleine was out of hearing distance.

“She didn’t have anything against me, as you may remember, Olivia,” Riley said, voice dropping low. “She welcomed me on her engagement tour and handed Liam over to me with no argument. We are not discussing this further.” Riley’s Queen Voice was firm and commanding.

Madeleine smiled sadly to herself as she walked to the restroom. She didn’t want Riley to protect her, but she was grateful that Riley had no ill will toward her.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Could she really do this for the rest of her life? Could she stand the pity looks and the whispers? All she wanted was to be Queen. Maybe if Madeleine had been gentler and nicer to Liam, he would still be with her and she would be Queen.

While Madeleine didn’t resent Riley, she was mad as hell at Liam. He had it all— a fiancée that didn’t care who he slept with as long as it was a quiet affair, for the price of the crown— he could have had happiness and an easy life. But he threw it away for Riley. Liam had promised her that he wouldn’t end their engagement for Riley. Madeleine had even trusted Liam. Even though he didn’t love her, he made Madeleine feel safe, secure, and even beautiful when the occasion called for it. I guess he wanted Riley more than he admitted to me, Madeleine thought as a tear escaped.

Madeleine should have ended things with Liam before they even began. She should have held onto what little dignity she had left instead of wondering where her fiancé was every night of the engagement tour. Every night he would disappear. Yes, he kept up appearances, but as soon as the court was gone, he was with Riley. Madeleine should have never let Liam lie. To her face, to his father; to his people.

Madeleine hurt more than she had ever admitted to anyone, but who tore those walls down? Riley. Who held her hand as she grieved the loss of her relationship and the crown? Riley. Who let her cry on their shoulder? Scream at them? Scream at Liam? Who encouraged her to tell off her family? Riley, Riley, Riley. Riley was Madeleine’s only friend, but Madeleine had to give up her dreams to see that.

Madeleine returned to the room and sat at the table at the seat set for her.

Olivia smiled coyly and went to say something, no doubt super sarcastic and maybe even mean, when Riley straightened in her chair.

Riley held up a fork threateningly. “I’m not afraid to use this, Olivia. You will be civil today, Duchess.” Riley’s eyes narrowed challengingly. Her Queen Voice was back.

Olivia sunk back dutifully, all excitement draining from her. “You’re no fun, Riley,” she pouted.

Madeleine smiled gratefully at Riley. Riley nodded in response.

“Madeleine, I have an idea for raising funds in Portvia*. I would love your help,” Riley said.

“I would love to hear it. I’ll call you to set up a time tomorrow,” Madeleine responded.

Silence fell as the ladies ate. Madeleines mind wondered back to her failed engagement. Riley was stronger than Madeleine.

If Madeleine had been in Riley’s shoes— thrown under the bus, name dragged through the press, watching the love of her life go on with another woman— she would not have forgiven Liam and would not have married him. She didn’t forgive Liam for breaking her trust, all these months later.

Riley was a bigger woman.

Liam didn’t look like much of a man, let alone a King, to Madeleine.

Just then, Liam swept into the room, stealing Riley’s attention. Riley’s face lit up and she stood to greet her husband. He and Riley met in the middle of the room and when they met, Liam bent down to kiss Riley. It was a chaste kiss, but the love they felt radiated through the room. He whispered in her ear then turned his focus to the ladies. He greeted each one with a smile and the ladies nodded in return.

When his eyes met Madeleine’s, she smiled, but there was no emotion behind it.

He bowed deeply then took his leave, kissing Riley on the cheek.

Madeleine looked down at her food, appetite gone.

Maybe if she had been as kind and caring as Riley, Liam would have learned to love her. Maybe she should have been nicer to Liam and not held him at arm’s length.

If Riley could put it all in the past, so could Madeleine. She looked up, determined not to be so bitter from here on out. She looked at Riley, who was talking animatedly with Hana.

Yes, Madeleine thought, Riley is beautiful, and not in a quaint, American way.

*Penelope’s Duchy. I can’t remember how to spell it and I’m waaaaay too tired right now.

Lots of love,

Red