#as that's. how traumatic situations work a lot of the time

[anyroads]

Hello again to one of my favorite posts on Tumblr! Because yes, this, exactly.

I'm going to add onto this post as someone who's spent several years working through trauma with a therapist. Doing so doesn't make me an authority on the subject by any means, but it does mean I've put a lot of thought and study into it alongside someone whose formal training and qualifications make them an excellent resource. And it also means that I have experiences and responses which, while not representative of everyone, are nevertheless worth something, especially to those who believe in elevating voices instead of speaking for people as an act of support.

Trauma is a result of instinctive defensive responses that, put simply, activate your fight and flight response. The brain identifies danger, the frontal cortex begins to go offline, and the amygdala takes over. One of the major effects of this is on memory: when the frontal cortex is online, memories are formed as linear stories with a beginning, middle, and end (this is also why we tell stories this way, because it's literally how our brains save experiences).

Part of a traumatic experience is that since certain brain functions are essentially off, memories aren't stored as memories. It's kind of like if your memory center was a filing cabinet and every memory was a file neatly stored in that cabinet, then trauma is a folder that's left on top of the cabinet or dropped on the floor somewhere nearby. It's still in the folder, ie. you can remember the event and you might remember the beginning, middle, and end, or you might have even taken the pieces and shoved them into that format later to make sense of them. But your brain hasn't put them in the cabinet. They aren't filed under "completed experience." So then every time something happens that triggers that memory, your brain's defense response is to think it's happening again, and it starts going into fight or flight mode. To your brain, that experience isn't over - it's an open folder, and therefore its story can continue at any moment.

This is what the word "triggered" actually means, btw. It means your frontal cortex starts going offline and your amygdala starts taking over, because your brain thought that was the best defensive response at the time of the traumatic experience, so it's relying on using the same response again because if you survived, then it must have been effective, right? It's really hard to tell your brain that it doesn't need to do this, and that triggering an anxiety response isn't helpful. At all. This was a helpful response when we lived in the wilderness and, say, while you're sitting around making arrowheads, you hear a twig snap and then a saber toothed tiger leaps out of the bush and mauls your clan mate to death in front of you. So every time you hear a twig snap, your brain thinks there's a saber toothed tiger coming, and goes into fight or flight mode.

This helped when that adrenaline response meant your reflexes were quicker and you could run faster, and a twig snapping meant there was a good chance something was sneaking up on you. But that's not the case anymore, and your brain is just basically taking innocuous stimuli and translating it as a threat in situations that aren't dangerous and you'd actually be better able to deal with if you didn't have to go through a trigger response. One thing I've learned to do in the last couple of years is to identify what this process feels like in my body physically, catch it early, and do mental exercises that keep my frontal cortex online and avoid having triggered responses. It's been difficult to learn and to carve out these neural pathways, and to understand the whole process. This is hard, complex, grueling stuff.

So yes, OP is 100% correct and words like "trauma" and "triggered" are overused in ways that disrespectful and minimizing to people who actually experience these things. To be traumatized is much more than to be upset. It's to go through an experience that changes your psychological response to certain stimuli or situations. It's not just an unpleasant experience, it's one that leaves mental (and sometimes physical) scars. I'm talking about experiences ranging from, but not limited to, abuse, serious accidents, physical violations, etc. and not seeing a scene in a movie that you didn't like. And hey, we can even give space to things like disturbing content that replays in your brain again and again - I experience this, it's called an intrusive thought, and it's not the same as a traumatic experience.

Stop using the vocabulary of people with legitimate needs to exaggerate your personal discomforts. It's selfish and obnoxious and minimizes the struggles and needs of people who actually experience the things you're stealing the language for.

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

[hex6rcist]

10 Questions to ask a Mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going!

New post because I am a YAPPER.

Tagged by: @we-keep-odd-hours 🖤

So stoked to answer your insightful questions about my fav movie. 😭

1. Thoughts on Eric Red's idea for a Near Dark sequel? (Mae and Caleb's adult, human, daughter has a run in with "kin" of the Hookers.)

Oof okay soooo tbh I hate it lmfao. Partially because I don’t think Mae and Caleb would stay together as humans to be so honest. I think if anything after the end of the movie they tried to make it work but ultimately returning to a human life for Mae wouldn’t just be difficult it’d be traumatic. She went from a young human woman, to a creature of the night who had to learn to kill, back to a young human woman who hadn’t physically changed in YEARS. She likely would have eventually split from Caleb because let’s be real he isn’t equipped to help that emotional baggage but I do think they’d keep in touch because I mean, they have this insane shared experience. Also not huge in the idea of a sequel of Near Dark. I’d much rather see a remake believe it or not. Still 80’s, include the juicy missing scrips bits (I’ll go on about this later lol), lean more into the family dynamic.

2. Top five movies with vampires?

In no order (please don’t make me lol)

Near Dark (duh), What we do in the Shadows, Lost Boys, Salem’s Lot, and I really adored Last Voyage of the Demeter. Honorable mention to 30 Days of Night.

3. If YOU were going to pitch a sequel (time machine back to 1987, or else a book/comic/etc) what would you say?

Oof okay so low I said I’m not keen on a sequel. Buuuut if I had to pitch one. I do love the idea of Severen coming back for revenge against Mae and Caleb. Maybe their relationship kind of imploding in on itself as they deal with this (very drama). I could see Mae now with this new context of her and Caleb’s relationship either having to double down on her choice to go with Caleb and picking the human world or doubling back and reuniting with Severen and wishing to go back to the night. In the end I think if she chose to go back, just for the drama. When Sev tries to turn her it ends up not working because surely you can’t just go back and forth on that right? And he accidentally kills her. Very bitter sweet.

Alternatively! Because now the gears are turning now! Mae after leaving Caleb and on her journey of figuring out who or what she is now as a human. Did going back have side effects on her physically? Probably!

4. Favorite scene that isn't the bar scene

Now THIS is a hard question. 😭 I want to say the shoot out because it is so so fucking good or even when they first get to the motel and they’re starting to warm up to and accept Caleb. But my true to the bone answer has got to be when Homer brings Sarah back to the motel. It’s just a priceless situation lol. All of their reactions are so telling. Sev grinning and kinda chuckling like “ah shit, this is gonna be good” and joking around. Jesse’s just absolute “you’ve gotta be kidding me right now” look. Diamondback’s annoyance and just being like “well obviously I’m the one who’s gonna have to deal with this”. It’s pure gold to me. It just cracks me up so hard.

5. We know (canon) that Mae was turned around 1982, Jesse around the Civil War, and (kiiiiiinda canon?) Severen in Tombstone in the late 19th century. When/where do you think Diamondback and Homer were from?

Ooh okay I’ve done this before! My answer that’s stayed the same is I LOVE the idea of Diamondback having been a prohibition era rum runner who met Jesse on a run. Also a clue in on how she got her name. It just simply speaks to me.

As for Homer… I’ve changed my mind. Initially I was under the impression that Diamondback turned him (hence the need she felt to step in with the Sarah situation) but after reflecting on it. I can’t get the way Jesse called him “old man” out of my mind. So I asked myself. Well what if Homer is older than Jesse and wasn’t turned by anyone in the clan? What’s his connection to them?

My current HC is that Homer and Jesse were turned by the same vampire, they’re brothers. In an interview Lance Henriksen shares his idea for how Jesse was turned. Which was by a mysterious creature at sea. Which I sort of love! It gives a more fantastical element to this vampire story that feels very rooted in a gritty reality. I like to think that Jesse was turned by a vampire who was ancient (a la Queen Akasha from Queen of the Damned). A vampire who’s so old they’re barely human and would have no qualms with turning a child.

6. Do you think if Caleb got over his selectively applied human moral code that he would have made an okay vampire, eventually?

Okay is a low bar and I think he’d clear it! Eventually he would have just had to suck it up (lol) and deal with it. That would be his life. I’ve mentioned in other things I’ve written I think he’d be a very picky feeder but I don’t think he’d continue to be a “weak link” so to say. Maybe! Even as the centuries passed he’d come to enjoy it. Maybe…

7. Severen: ace/aro spec, or no?

I can see how this idea came about as he is the only one in the clan not romantically linked or seeking that connection however I don’t think it’s from a lack of sexual or romantic interest on a large scale. I think it just wasn’t important to him at that time. There was a lot going on! He had to deal with this new dude and try to get his dick wet? He’s busy damn it! I could see him being like demiromantic but like dtf. Like he’s gonna bang but you have to earn his love. Def has past lovers who hate him lmfao.

8. Any scenes that were changed from script to film, or otherwise cut that you wish made it into the movie/were done differently?

The fact that we didn’t get to see Severen jump out of the back of the van in the scene following the shootout and lay down some serious high speed carnage on those cops is a crime against me personally. I NEED THAT SCENE. GIVE IT TO ME. PLEASE. LET THE FERAL MAN DO FEEAL ACTS.

9. What would have happened if Loy and Sarah were at literally any other motel that night?

Well I suppose Sarah and Homer wouldn’t have met! Therefore Caleb would have stayed with the clan, Homer would eventually move on from the Mae situation and maybe find a new target later down the line, Loy and Sarah would eventually just lose the trail and have to go home perhaps even accepting Caleb was gone.

This gives me another good idea though! Loy returns home without his son and isn’t quite the same. Eventually a local from town sees him (idk at church or something like that) and explains that he saw Caleb at the sables the night he went missing! And he was with a girl. They explain to Loy about how the horses seemed spooked by her. Come to think of it not long after that night 4 dead bodies showed up, drained of blood.

LOY BECOMES A VAMPIRE HUNTER.

What do we think?

10. Aside from her god-awful taste in boys, what's your opinion on Mae?

I actually love Mae. She’s so weird girl coded. Cryptic, hopeful, adventurous, curious, even a touch stubborn. She’s almost a little awkward but knows how to turn on the charm and use her perceived innocence to her advantage. She oozes this deep sense of knowing and understanding. And yes awful taste in boys lmao.

This was so much fun! Thank you for tagging me!!!! 😭🖤

My questions and tagees will be below the cut for space! Because I rambled!

1. How are you!? I hope your day is going well.

2. What are you currently working on? Any little projects of any kind you’re excited to share?

3. What have you been watching lately? I just finished Righteous Gemstones and I need a new show lol.

4. (A Near Dark one because how can I not) what’s your favorite small detail in the movie that other people might overlook?

5. What blog should I follow right now?

6. Best piece of advice you’ve ever received?

7. If you could add one fantastical element to the real world and have it be a commonly accepted and known about thing what would it be? (Ie make Santa real)

8. What’s the last book you didn’t just read, you DEVOURED?

9. What are you most passionate about?

10. What do you think is your best quality?

I tag: @we-keep-odd-hours (again lmfaoooo, you don’t need to ask more questions) @babieswrld (heyyy!) @turquoisebolotie (I miss you 🥺)

[bookwyrminspiration]

What do you think will happen to Sophie after the neverseen is defeated? When she’s an adult. Her entire life to this point has consistently been struggle and isolation, now, on top of that, her purpose, what she was built for, is done. What is there to be after that? What could one do?

I for one, think she’s going to have a midlife crisis, or whatever the equivalent is since infinity has no middle.

Well I'd argue that her purpose isn't focused on the Neverseen; sure, they've made a problem of themselves and she's part of a solution, but the reason the Black Swan and Sophie exist goes beyond contesting the Neverseen. She isn't done. Once they're dealt with, I think she'll still have purpose in addressing inequalities and injustices in the elven world--the treatment of the talentless, pyrokinetics, twins, etc.

There's also the whole matter of humanity, the human problem. Which is more personal for Sophie than anyone else, and her unique knowledge of them would be invaluable in any conversation and decision making going forward to solve the issues there. I highly doubt she's going to sit that one out. And whatever they come with is most likely going to be a very drawn out, long term thing that will always need involvement, so I think she'll always have something to do there.

However! A continued purpose does not negate the possibility of a crisis! Even helping improve their world and advocating for humans, she's still doing what others set up for her; she didn't have any control over any of who she is, so is she even her own person? Who is Sophie Foster? Who does she want to be? Can she be that person? Does she do what she does because she wants to or because it's what she was made for?

And can she ever fit in? Can she ever truly belong? There is no one else like her and there never will be. There will always be a gap between her and everyone else, and can she overcome that? is her one deepest wish--to be normal, to belong--achievable? or is it a fantasy she can only imagine and yearn for and grieve. will she ever be satisfied with the people around her or will that out of place feeling last forever?

There's a lot to break down over, she can take her pick. But I do think tying her purpose to specifically defeating the Neverseen misses a big chunk of Project Moonlark and the Black Swan's intentions, so any crises would also factor that in because there would be more for her to do :)

[himblebo]

I just want to be allowed to scream at my sister the way she screams at me. I want to be allowed to slam doors and throw things and break things. I want to be allowed to react to the way she treats us and not be called selfish.

[sastielsfandom]

It's amazing how quickly people can perceive and pick up on other people's trauma but cannot do it for themselves because of how we cope, we can twist our reality into something more manageable for years, and then one day it hits.

[the-witchhunter]

Ectoplasm is implied to be radioactive...

Tim hasn't had the life experiences that would lead to him being able to metabolize ectoplasm aka low doses gradually increasing in strength throughout development(Fenton kids) or coming back practically spontaneously from the dead (Jason)

For the kids at home, bad things happen when you swallow radioactive substances

The first signs something is wrong would happen a few hours to weeks later depending on the dose. Considering he swallowed it in a form meant to absorb into the body, I'm hedging on it being closer to hours, a couple days at most...

Headaches, god his head would be killing him. Fever, why does he feel so hot? Fatigue and weakness, he usually feels tired but he's really struggling. Dizziness, why is the room spinning? Nausea, Tim feels like he's going to-

Vomiting blood, he's bleeding internally from the damaged tissues, it looks black as he hugs the porcelain bowl of the toilet. It feels cool against his feverish brow. He needs, help, he needs his family but his com, hell even his phone, is in the other room and he doesn't have the strength to leave the bathroom. He's so tired, oh so tired. Surely it wouldn't be so bad if he just slept here, right? Just for a little while...

Jason is the one to find him a few hours later and he knows what happened. They'd been working on a case together, and when Tim didn't show up to the rendezvous point, he knew something was wrong. Dimly, he remembers Tim asking to take a vitamin. He had thought it had been the multivitamins he wanted, but the idiot had taken his special "vitamin," and had somehow not even noticed the difference.

Jason needed Danny. Danny would know what to do

And he did. They had to pump his stomach and pump Tim full of chemicals to block the radiation from binding to anything and flush the rest out of his system. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't pleasant, but Tim was alive. He wished he wasn't, but he survived.

Tim wasn't the same after that. The ulcer he'd eventually recover from, but his stomach was a mess for months after. His pale skin took on a greenish hue for a while but that too eventually faded. He could do without the mood swings but he adapted to them, learned what triggered them and got better at controlling them over time, though they never totally went away. The thing that never changed was the eyeshine. His eyes reflected light like a cat's now, and that would stay the same for the rest of his life

Short DPXDC Prompts #687

Danny gives Jason vitamin capsules filled with ectoplasm for his needed ectoplasm consumption.

Damn it sucks that he forgot to remove the previous bottles label. Tim thought he was taking Vitamin D.

[catboygirljoker]

^ Lamia?

SDKJHKJSDFS yeah this is how im planning on having it go when their keyblade gets re-formed. its a training weights situation

[billowyy]

.

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss it Better Pt:2

Curly x Reader

AN: Holy shit I did NOT expect all the love and support from the original like god damn! People begging for a part 2 and everything (I’ll make sure to tag those who asked for one at the bottom) Like oh my god thank you guys so much! This means the WORLD to me! As a disabled person trying to make his medical issues more accurate it means so much that yall love it and how I write in general! Thank you!

SUM: You and Anya were busy dealing with changing Curly’s wrappings together. Sharing stories, and just trying to stay positive. That’s when you just had to ask. What’s going on between her and Jimmy?

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, Anya sharing her trauma so pls take care of yourself, medical gore, medical situations, light violence,

“Thank you again for handling Curly’s medication. I’m sorry I just-“ Anya would try to explain again how sorry she was that she was struggling to do her job. A job you could never blame her for. She’s been through a traumatic event of the ship crashing, and already had to try and save a near corpse. She deserves to breathe.

“Anya it’s fine, really. I’m his romantic partner as well. It be weird if I didn’t pick up some responsibility and tried to take care of him. You also deserve time to rest. You’ve done so much for him, and saved his life. Give yourself more credit. It’s not a sin to ask for help.” You would try and comfort her, as you would grab the fresh bandages for Curly.

He needed a lot of them, and they had to be changed out relatively often. He’s basically just exposed meat after all. The risk of infection was high, which you were wondering how he didn’t even catch any yet, so he needed alot of attention and care.

If only Pony Express had packed more, because the med bay was running out of them fast. Very very fast. Might be only able to maybe re wrap him a few more times now. Had you terrified because as much as you wanted to take care of him you had to leave some bandages for the rest of the crew. In case of another emergency.

You wish you could be doing more.

“We’re going to undress you. Is that alright?” Anya would ask Curly, who in return would give two blinks to indicate that he consented to being stripped. Was gonna have to be done but it was still so kind of Anya to still ask before hand.

The two of you would soon get to work on changing out his bandages. A very slow, careful, tedious job. One that normally took over a hour to do properly. So it’s time to kill some of that empty space.

“Ya know, this isn’t the first time over had to wrap up a certain someone because they got hurt. I remember a time when we were at a Ski resort with his family. Someone wanted to try a path that was meant for experts and before you know it someone’s returning to the lodge with his leg bone sticking out of his pants.”

Anya gave a little ‘oh my’ as you just laughed at the memory. Curly just adored sports. Especially the winter variety. You felt so blessed that he had a job that paid so well. Well enough that the two of you, and his own family sometimes, could go and enjoy vacations like that.

You wonder if the two of you will ever see the snow again.

“That sounds rather nice, minus the whole breaking his leg. To share a cabin together with someone. Cuddle for warmth together by the fire place. Sounds really nice.” She would speak dreamily. As if she knew it was simply that. A dream. Something that will never happen again. No matter how hard she tried.

Like something was wrong with her.

“I bet you’ll get that moment. When we escape here you’ll have a flooding of men and women coming your way. The brilliant woman who managed to fight death and win. Again and again. The most brilliant woman to ever live.” You would praise her, as you were very mindful of Curly’s catheter. As if that needed to be messed with.

“Yeah…..Maybe……” Anya didn’t really seem to actually respond. Was like she was just saying words for the sake of words. Had you wondering.

Even before the crash she had just started acting off one day. From being a cheerful woman who was gentle and full of smiles, to being so quiet and scared by the littlest of sounds. Like she expected someone to jump from around the corner and attack her. Any feeling of safety and comfort vanished.

You were worried.

“Say, Anya-“ You began to speak, while disposing the bandages safely into the bio hazard bag. “-Is everything ok? I mean duh we’re not doing to hot with being, ya know, crashed and all. But besides that. You just seem…..different.”

Anya seemed to not hear you. She simply worked on checking over Curly’s body. Hunting down any infections, looking for possible bed sores, monitoring his healing, and getting ready to do the ever so gentlest of sponge baths.

Anya did always get in the zone whenever someone was hurt. You figured she didn’t catch what you said because of it.

So repeated yourself, as you stood next to her. Impossible to miss what you were asking, as you would help Curly sit up and just move his joints to better reach with the sponge.

The only sounds in that room were Curly’s whines of discomfort. Whines to indicate truly how much pain he was in when even the pain killers can numb it.

“Anya….I know you can hear me. Is everything alright? Not to be rude but I’m kinda asking you a question.” You would be gentle, but she still couldn’t help but looked distressed.

“Anya what’s-“ You would reach a hand out, to comfort her, but the second it was raised towards her she would immediately flinch. Her startled reaction ended up even making her drop Curly’s leg on the table.

Oh that’s gotta hurt.

For a fleeting moment you put Anya on the back burner, and just focused your attention on comforting Curly. How he gave a weak sob from the intense pain.

“Shhhh I know Curly Fry. I know. It’s gonna be ok. It was an accident. You know she didn’t mean it. Shhh.” You would kiss his forehead, as Curly had a muscle spasm through his body from the intense shock to his system. So exhausted and in so much pain.

“It’s gonna be ok. I promise. I love you so much. Just think about our future. How we will get off this ship, and have that family. Have our own baby-“

The moment you said baby, that’s when Anya finally cracked.

Her hands were now covering her face, as she just broke down into sobs. Sobs that sounded so hoarse. Like she’s done it so many times that her body was just abused from it. Left you so worried and confused.

What the hell is going on here?

“Anya, what’s wrong? What did I say?” You would gently guide her to a chair, and worked on stroking her hair. Giving her as much comfort as you would to Curly. The same gentle love as he would get. Love she deserved.

It took a while for her to catch her breathe, and you didn’t rush it because it really seemed she needed it, but her own trembling body was finally able to quite down.

“I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something about Jimmy-“

You were quick to kneel down infront of her, and was ready to take in every last word she was going to say. Maybe what secrets she held could finally explain why the hell you all were crashed here. Why Jimmy crashed you all.

“Jimmy ra-“

That’s when the door opened.

As if that bastard had a sixth sense for whenever people were talking about him. That same annoyed expression, same sneer, same empty eyes.

All three of you kinda froze in time now. Looking at him, as he looked back at you all. Scanning you. As if judging to figure out what was being said before entering.

“Hey….Captain….” You swallowed, as you would return to standing. Anya herself remained in her chair, with her head down. Didn’t seem she trusted herself in showing any expressions right now.

“What were you guys talking about?” He asked, as he seemed slightly on edge. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well or had too much caffeine. Just this tension of paranoia was in the air. Like he was worried about something.

“Just about the bandages. We’re starting to run low, and Anya is just getting worried about having enough.” Wasn’t a complete lie. The best lies were the ones with truth sprinkled in.

“Of course he’s wasting our supplies.” He scoffed, before walking over to the table. You were trying to give Curly some respect with grabbing something to cover him up with, but it was like Jimmy wouldn’t let you. The stare he gave you, when you grabbed the clean hospital gown, made you just freeze in place.

It was just so full of hate.

It was just so full of disgust.

It was just cruelty in dark eyes.

It was just focused on you. As if Anya didn’t even exist right now. Like she meant nothing to him. Nothing but the wind in the air. Something you don’t even bother in registering every day. Like how you breathe in air in your lungs.

You don’t notice until it’s gone.

“Has he been given his medication?” He would ask you, as his hands would be firm on the bed side. Just seeming to assert his dominance with standing over the man. Like some got over the little people.

“Yes Jimmy. He’s been medicated. We are actually in the middle of washing him. It would be nice if there was some privacy-“ You tried to gently hint at, only for it yo fall on deaf ears.

"The crash really did do a number on you. You don’t even have a dick anymore. Just holes huh-?” Jimmy would scoff, as that was your final straw. You would give Jimmy a hard hip bump, and quickly covered Curly up. To give him dignity and respect.

“Hey-! Watch it! Don’t think because you are Curly’s little eye candy doesn’t mean you can go pushing people around-“ Jimmy would bark at you.

You didn’t feel fear.

Jimmy was messing with YOUR man now. Curly deserved dignity and respect. He doesn’t deserve to be called a ‘set of holes’ no way in hell. No one deserved that and ESPECIALLY not Curly.

“Will you just shut up?! What the hell are you even doing here?! Aren’t you the Captain now? Captains are suppose to be doing whatever it takes to help the crew. All you’ve been doing is walking around and insulting everyone! It’s like you don’t want us to be saved. Be a Captain and take some responsibility already-!”

The anger that he had for you was terrifying. You swore it was like a switch. He suddenly seemed taller, bigger, angrier, more intense. You felt like you were shrinking more and more. Like you would melt into a puddle under that heated stare.

But you refused to.

For Curly.

“Listen here you-“

SLAP

You smacked him across the face. Was like the world went mute. No one was so much as breathing. Just the stares of shock from Anya and Curly.

“Get. Back. To. WORK.”

You ordered, and he listened.

He would hold his red cheek, and walked away like a dog with its tail between its legs. As if he was all talk and no bite. That he couldn’t bring himself to be more than an angry voice.

Someone needed to keep him in his place.

“Can this damn ship get any more hectic?” You sighed with your fingers to the bridge of your nose. Just trying to think clearly.

That’s when Anya found her voice.

“I’m pregnant.”

You opened your eyes wide, and was frozen in place.

Did you hear that right? No no. No way. Why would she be pregnant? How would she get pregnant? Who would get her…

“Oh my god.”

You slowly turned around to Anya with the puzzle pieces falling into place. You finally realized what had happened.

Jimmy never was a responsible man.

@meheheasasa @letmebedelutional @trashcansally @balanahala562

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[bo0tleg]

One thing I like about Top Gun (1986) is how believable the development with Ice and Mav's dynamic is.

I've seen a lot of the "Rivals suddenly become buddies after traumatic event together" in media, but I don't think I've seen it done better than in Top Gun. Mostly, I attribute it to how much build up it has.

Most of the time, the 'Rivals' hate each others guts throughout the entire movie/series and then they go through an extremely traumatic event that binds them for life and shifts their entire concept of each other. Ice and Mav never once changed how they saw each other, it just changed their understanding of it.

Ice saw Maverick as dangerous and Mav saw Iceman as stuck-up and commanding. And they weren't wrong, by any means.

From the beginning, they have tension between them because of how different they are. And it ends up in the audience seeing Ice as the 'Antagonist' because that's how Mav sees it, and we're seeing it from his perspective as the protagonist. But Ice was never inherently wrong, in fact he was right.

Other than his first scene, Iceman always has a point in what he's saying. He's criticizing Mav, not insulting him. Sure, he does it in a brash way because masculinity, but he's not trying to insult him, he's trying to knock him down a peg and wake him up to reality. All Ice wants is that he starts to act as a team player, start caring about everybody's safety AND his own, rather than being reckless for the sake of being reckless. But Mav sees it as an insult because he can't process criticism in a healthy way (due to how he grew up). The same thing happened with Charlie, for the record.

And so the strife between the two begins. What I like about it is how it bleeds out of them over time, becoming more settled as the movie goes on. In the locker room "You're dangerous" scene, the tension is palpable. It's obvious they're agitated by each other, and feel the need to prove they're the correct one.

If you pay attention, this whole... demand for superiority goes away as time progresses. They're fine with each other's presence, it's not like they're constantly at each others throat all the time. In the shower scene, Ice dropped all of the aggression and competitiveness from his tone and is instead just laying out what he thinks. He's not undermining Maverick, he's not lecturing him like a child. Iceman is just telling Maverick exactly how he sees the situation in hopes that it would make him realize what the fuck he's doing, but with little hope that it'll actually work.

That doesn't mean Ice is always correct either, he doesn't understand why Mav acts the way he does, thus fails to take into consideration the emotional trauma behind it. Which only causes even more strife.

The entire time, Iceman isn't being a dick for the sake of it, he just wants Mav to stop being stupid (by his standards). And Maverick doesn't understand it because all he gets from what Ice says is insults.

Maverick isn't good at understanding what people mean to say if it's implied, you need to say it to his face. This is the reason he stayed quiet in the shower scene, because Ice finally laid everything out in simple words that he can understand without making it sound like a dick-measuring contest.

Thing is, the tension mellows out. At the beginning, you could see the tension and cut it with a knife. By the middle you can see them getting used to each other without jumping to constantly trade jabs (namely: the volleyball scene, it's just a bunch of guys being dudes, and the scene where Charlie says that Mav flew recklessly in front of the whole class, Ice doesn't comment on it in any way). Over time, they've settled down into their tension without needing to address it all the time.

Then Goose dies.

And the tension between them is still there.

Just because Goose isn't there anymore, doesn't mean their whole dynamic vanishes all of a sudden. You can see their hesitation towards each other (especially Ice), and that's great! It demonstrates that Goose dying doesn't magically resolve their problems with each other in solidarity.

Ice tried to give his consolations to Mav, and is awfully awkward about it. You can see on his face that he wants to say more, but doesn't because he knows it's not his place given their history. And not much is said, but a lot it communicated. (Val Kilmer is a killer actor for this, OH MY FUCKING GOD BLESS THAT MAN)

Even in the graduation scene you can see how out of their depts they really are with each other. A stilted congratulations, that was it. But they're trying, and that's what matters.

A scene I think gets overlooked a lot is the scene right before the Layton, where Ice expressed his worries about Mav to Stinger, and Mav heard him. Because I feel like that was a shift that was more drastic than the Layton itself for them.

What Ice was doing in that scene wasn't doubting Maverick's flying abilities, it was his mental health. Sure, he passed the psych eval, but that means next to jack shit when in a real combat situation so close after his backseater dying. And Ice might be worried that he's gonna be left hanging, but with the way he was speaking I'm more inclined to believe he was more worried about Maverick's wellbeing than himself. Ice almost looked resigned. He knew it was gonna get dismissed because that's the military for you, but he still wanted to try to vouch for Mav to stay groundside, if only to keep his mind at bay.

But Maverick heard him, and as usual, he read it as an insult. He wasn't wrong to assume Ice didn't believe him capable of flying the mission, which wouldn't be a lie, but failed to realize that he had more than one reason to want Maverick on the ground rather than in the air. And for the first time, Maverick believes him.

Up until this point, Mav dismissed all of Ice's so called 'insults' because he was certain in and of himself. But now he isn't anymore.

And it affects his performance in the air. I'm not saying he was as shitty as he was at the start of that combat because of what he overheard, but I am saying that it certainly didn't help matters in the slightest.

So their weird 'stepping-on-eggshells' situation is all over the place by that point. Because they started to care about each other despite not being what one would call proper friends yet. It's establishing a potential friendship by implying that 1. Ice cares about Mav's wellbeing and 2. Mav cares about what Ice thinks.

On the ground, they have the wingman exchange, and their suddenly buddy buddy. Thing is, it wasn't sudden at all.

They've been setting this up the entire fucking movie.

Going back to what I said at the beginning: Ice thinks Mav is dangerous and Mav thinks Ice is stuck-up and controlling. After the Layton, they still think those things because they weren't wrong to begin with. What changed was that instead of seeing it as something that pitted them against each other, it was seen as something that simply was about the other, and that there was no changing it. It could be good.

Mav being dangerous could be good and Ice being stuck-up and controlling could be good, because those were just traits of who they were. By the end of the movie they didn't change how they saw each other, just how they interpreted each other.

And it was built up during the entire fucking movie.

There was a reason to why they acted the way they did with each other because of the stilted interpretation they had of each other. From rivalry to friendship (and perhaps more later down the line), it's glaringly obvious throughout that it wasn't a sudden shift, it was exponential.

That's why I think it was so well developed, because you could see it coming.

[iguana-braces]

That sub!Jayce post really popped off, huh?

Ehehe okay here's my rambly thoughts about it (I'm literally sitting at work clocked out writing this instead of going home because THOUGHTS)

Building my theory off of this post:

And this one with all the examples of how Jayce's love language is clearly physical touch

*Disclaimer: there's a lot about season 2 that irked me in terms of plot and characterization so this is me retconning a little bit and picking and choosing what examples make the most cohesive argument. Like, in season one they're like "Jayce has this brotherly relationship with Caitlyn and him and Mel have this deep, meaningful relationship" and then season two was like "No more relationship building, it's time for trauma now" but, I digress*

First things first, he's a people pleaser. He does what he's told, clearly (against better judgment but like). And he's clearly committed to the people he cares about. HE BROUGHT VIKTOR BACK FROM THE DEAD (AND THEN KILLED HIM) AND THEN DIED WITH HIM AGAIN. You can't tell me that wouldn't translate to an "I'll do anything for you" attitude in the bedroom too.

I already did the bed gif but I also have to draw attention to the following:

Okay but season two, post-horrors!

Mr. Dopey Heart-Eyes McGee is NOT the one calling the shots here.

Season one Jayce? That man is whipped. One glance from his partner and he's on his knees like it's a religion. Whoever you ship him with! Mel, Viktor, both, a secret fourth option--

He spent an indeterminate amount of time alone, in the bottom of a pit. He's touch-starved but also! Traumatized!

Imagine, if you will, that he survives the astral plane. Imagine he goes to find Mel, or Viktor also survives, or imagine your own y/n, OC insert scenario here. Whatever floats your boat.

In such scenario, and in the aftermath of his self-awareness epiphany where he realizes that yeah, he's kinda been used (by everyone really), I think that in regards to any potential sexual relationship, he would have to become more dominant, more in control of the situation. Especially if it's with Mel, since he does pointedly blame her, or even Viktor, who has literally shaped the course of Jayce's entire life since he was a child. The man needs to set some boundaries with people and good for him.

So I think dominant, scruffy Jayce does have a time and a place.

However, I don't think he'd stay that way forever. It's kinda like him trying to be a politician-- it's a different role that he can pull off, but it doesn't fully scratch his itch.

BONUS HEADCANON: Wouldn't it be just so interesting if he survived the astral plane and goes back to whoever, and while he's looking for comfort and reassurance and all that physical contact he's been deprived of, he realizes that he really doesn't like people touching his head.

I hypothesize that in regards to canon relationships, Mel and/or Viktor, once they regain his trust and show that they're not trying to use him again, he's 100% going to be simping for them even worse than before. Like, that relationship would've gone through the fire and only come out stronger on the other side. You might even say it's been vulcanized.... 🤭

From the on, he can go back to letting his walls down around them and letting them be the dominant one because he knows there's solid trust and respect there now.

Feel free to agree or disagree 🤷‍♀️ also please feel free to tell me all your thots about this too!!!

He's got all this beautiful hair that needs to be tenderly pushed away from his eyes by a loving hand, but he's a little fucked up from the times Mannequin/Mage Viktor did that little murder mind meld.

Like, he put his head in Mel's lap TWICE, you know it would kill the man if he couldn't do that anymore because having someone's hands near his forehead is too reminiscent of... well, basically his death.

[reiderwriter]

hey, i really love your writing esp fluff hehe..

I was wondering if you could maybe write a story where gf!reader has anxiety and decides to spend night at spence's but constantly keeps apologizing cause she is like afraid to be inconvenience but he keeps hugging and comforting her just some really fluffy story

Love yaaaa🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶💕💕

-🍓

A/N: FINALLY getting back to some classic requests! Thanks for this cute one 🥰 I love fluff where Spencer is so caring and considerate, so I hope you like this one, too!

Summary: After a traumatic experience, you avoid confronting new fears with your new coworkers until a late invitation lets you find comfort in Spencer's arms.

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, guns, other cases details etc.

If any other member of your team had so bluntly asked you the question ‘are you okay?’ you'd have lied to their face, convincingly, and not felt bad about it for even a second. 

It had been, after all, long enough since your kidnapping to have become comfortable with new surroundings again. You went on cases fine. You dealt with similar unsubs perfectly, and you were absolutely a professional. 

But with Spencer Reid in front of you asking you that same question, you felt like you were one slight breeze away from crumbling entirely. 

The night had grown old as you sat with Spencer looking over some case files. You weren't shipping out for this one, thankfully, but you still wanted to be sure you knew every detail of the case so you could help find your guy and get him off the streets. 

But having worked from 6 pm to 2am, your eyes were growing bleary, and you had to finally look up to the clock to see how long you'd been zoned out for. 

“Shit,” you murmured, wiping the sleep from your eyes. 

“I have to go, Spence,” you scrambled for your keys, pulling your bag onto your shoulder as your heart started beating. 

It was okay. You'd be okay. It was dark outside, but you'd driven in the dark before now. The roads were clear anyway, and you weren't on a job. You could drive home, get some sleep, and forget anything happened. 

“Y/N, it's late, you’re tired,” Spencer said gently from opposite you, grabbing your bag from your hands and gently placing it down again. “It's okay, you can just… stay over tonight.” 

In the few weeks since you'd been kidnapped, you'd told everyone you knew that you were okay and doing fine and that it would take a lot more than that to get you down. And then you'd go home to an empty apartment, triple check every lock, barricade yourself into your room, and sleep with a gun on your bedside table and a knife under your pillow. 

You didn't drive in the dark. You didn't eat or drink anything you hadn't personally prepared, and you didn't dive head first into cases anymore. A few people had remarked about how you'd matured as an agent. They didn't understand that bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about being alone in a room with men. 

Being alone with Spencer was different. He was your Spencer. You'd seen him kill unsubs, but you'd more often see him peacefully trap and release spiders instead of killing them. You'd seen him fumble talking to women by pulling out magic tricks, just as often as you'd seen him be approached by every single working girl you'd interviewed on a case. 

You'd slept over before. This wasn't any different. 

“Yeah… yeah  you're right. It's probably not a good idea to drive this late.” 

He smiled at you as you abandoned your path to the door, and went to grab you some clothes to change into. You paused, and tried to breathe deeply as you assessed the situation. 

You'd been to Spencer's apartment before. If you slept in the living room, your best route out would be the front door. The kitchen didn't have any good exits. The bathroom window didn't open wide enough. The fire escape was connected to both the living room and the window in Spencer's bedroom. If anyone came through the front door, it would be safer to sleep in the bed and jump out the window before they had a chance to pursue you. 

But if they came up the fire escape, they could choose between which window to come through. Without a second thought, you crossed to Spencer's window and checked the locks. They worked, but they were old. They could easily be forced open. 

You checked, and you still had your gun on you, thinking about where the best place to store it would be. Next to the bed, under the sofa, somewhere it'd be easy to grab and shoot. 

You worked yourself up walking yourself through your plan that when Spencer came up behind you again, without thinking, you turned the gun on him.  

“Whoa, Y/N!” 

“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I don't - I was just thinking about what I would do in a h-home invasion, and it seemed safer to have the gun close, but-” 

Slowly taking the gun from your hand, Spencer pulled you towards him and into his arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and though it was the 100th time you'd heard the question in the last few weeks, you finally, finally broke down and told him the truth. 

“N-No.” 

Stroking your hair, Spencer held you as you began to quietly sob, not pulling away as you clung to him for dear life, letting the fear slowly drain from your body. 

“It's okay. It's going to be okay, I'm here,” he whispered. After a few minutes, you gathered yourself and pulled away, wiping your eyes as you looked up at him again. 

“I'm sorry, I must just be really tired. I'll just crash on the couch-” 

“No, Y/N, you can't do that.”

“It's fine, I'm fine now. I've crashed on your couch before, and-” 

“And the couch is next to the door. You're going to sit there all night with your gun in your hand, waiting for the door handle to turn. You won't rest.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom again. 

“I know what it's like, not being able to sleep at night. Feeling anxious and alone and scared all the time.” 

He handed you a pile of clothes and let you sit on the bed as he began to untie your shoelaces. 

“Sleep in the bed. The window has a secure lock, and it's covered by the alarm system. The bedroom door locks as well." Finishing, he looked up at you from the floor, smiling weakly before standing up and pressing a kiss to your temple. 

Your heart, which had been resting comfortably with the new details of your security, flared up into a fast-paced drum beat again as he left for the bathroom. You weren't sure if you were scared still, or if somehow a small kiss and care he'd shown you were enough to have you flushed like a middle-schooler. 

You quickly slipped on the pajamas, which you recognised as old FBI training clothes, and hopped into the bed before your brain could decide to investigate any further. 

Spencer returned quickly and climbed into bed right beside you, turning off the lights beforehand. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking at him as you laid on your side. 

“What for?” 

“For not making this awkward.” 

“Awkward? Is it weird for us to share the bed? Should I have taken the couch? I should have taken the couch, let me go-” 

You leant over the small space between you and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you for not letting me spiral. Thank you for letting me be not okay.” 

He relaxed into your touch as you spoke and pulled you into him for a hug quickly. His hands rested awkwardly still on your shoulders and waist, as if he were scared to touch you more, to seem inappropriate somehow. 

“Spencer?” 

“Hmm?”

“I think I'd feel safer if you just held me a bit tighter.”

With your head on his chest, you heard the short rumble of laughter that popped out of him as he relaxed into your hug, closing your eyes and falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating. 

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 3 here! Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s “pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

-there's actually an entirely different batman villain called falseface in the '66 series but I couldn't come up with anything better. Changeface just does not roll off the tongue.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.

[potatomountain]

CIY CH 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Breaking Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark romance, poly romance 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @yourfatherlucifer, @flurrys-creativity , @bunnliix, @adelusionforyourthoughts and occasionally @daemour 📍dividers by @cafekitsune banner made by me! ageless blocks will be blocked immediately if you interact with this post 📍AN: I HIGHLY recommend skipping this chapter if any of the following warnings below the cut are triggering or you are just not in a good headspace to read about a traumatizing event that befalls reader. It is not described in detail, but is described as having happened off screen. The trauma is not caused by any of the main cast, or idol representing character (i in fact refused to give him a name) masterlist | Previous | Next

📍Warning(s): extremely dark and triggering themes such as: mentions of r@pe, torture, graphic depiction of murder of minor character. Graphic details such as blood, stabbing, and talk of explosives. Kidnapping, held hostage, a somewhat cliche mafia scene with dark twists because trauma.

The bright lights woke the two men from their awkward slumber, Hongjoong being the first to lift his head despite a swollen eye. For three days of torture, the two of them were still pretty much in tact. It left Hongjoong feeling a bit… disappointed.

This was the feared Blood Hounds? The red chains around their necks were a give away, and with five of them it shouldn’t be too hard to cause some damage. So why were they mostly just bruises and busted skin from punches? The brass knuckles hurt something fierce, but aside from a dislocated shoulder all his bones were intact. He assumed it was the same for Seonghwa.

Twenty-four hour observation, no food or water but sleep was provided surprisingly. Probably to keep them coherent enough for the questioning.

And that was just as dull. Despite hunting them down, they knew so little. Didn’t even notice their connection to the law, or their full place in the Black Pirates. That was probably due to the Red Wolf that did the questioning. The man sat behind the lights, late thirties, early forties, and had his jacket open to expose his bare chest and the red wolf on his side. He even flaunted it often, making Hongjoong assume this man’s ego was bigger than the abandoned building they were in.

That was fine by him, it made it easier to play the game. “Let’s start from the beginning shall we? The black pirates are responsible for the hit on our territory a few weeks ago, correct?” The way the man emphasized ‘our’ just showed his pride over this situation. If Hongjoong had to guess, he was given this interrogation role as a test, most likely an ass kisser that worked his way up the ranks. A true coward under it all.

It made it hard not to mock him. “Not sure what you mean, please elaborate.” He licked some of the blood off his lip, tilting his head back and knocking it against Seonghwa to wake him up a bit more. The bright lights around them were annoying, but only really kept them awake now that they were. The man stood up and began to circle them, a little ticked off it seems with how harshly he glared. Hongjoong just yawned, seeming unaffected. Bored even. Because he was.

That just pissed off the wolf even more, throwing one of the lights to the ground in a rage as it broke and sparked out. “Three days we’ve been at this! How much longer are you going to keep playing this game?!” He shouted out, stomping over to Seonghwa and out of Hongjoong’s sight and gripping his hair.

Seonghwa spit in the man’s face. “As long as we want. Really, do you think you’re terrifying?” While he had a lot of bravado in his tone, Hongjoong could sense the underlying fear there. He knew his partner.

It had been three days and they weren’t sure if they had been out longer than a day. They had gone through scenarios like this dozens of times in case they were captured. Wooyoung could use his connection to the Pink Boas and as a freelancer to get out of his ties to the Pirates, something his mother had said she would always help with, but if it was any other member but Yeosang they had a plan.

Three days. That was the minimum needed for rescue. It gave Yeosang plenty of time to track their whereabouts, and the others to mobilize an extraction. It would have begun the moment there was an attack on the safe house. But Hongjoong knew it wasn’t for them that his partner was scared for, but he was sick with worry over you. Had you made it out? Did you go to Yeosang or did you run? What if you fought? Even Hongjoong couldn’t deny that was an option, knowing how feisty you could be. You weren’t the type to run anyways, but for once Hongjoong wished you were.

Sure their torture was pretty minimal but for you? A random woman in a Pirate safe house? Oh they wouldn’t attempt to question you, he knew that. He tried not to think about it though, tried not to let the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach bother him. The implications that they were going easy on the torture on purpose and that it might have something to do with you. The real torture was not knowing if you were safe. The hits, starvation and dehydration were nothing. The soreness of his muscles he thought would be a nice excuse to beg you for a massage. Still, none of that compared to how he was sure Seonghwa felt.

He had watched over you since day one, first like a protective mother to see what damage you would do to his nest, then you were part of it. They wanted to make it official, maybe have you spend a few nights in their bed after all this was over.

So he knew Seonghwa didn’t care about the punch the man threw, jolting to the side as it connected with his jaw. He spit out blood onto the concrete just in Hongjoong’s view, but he kept his face stone cold. He never liked when Hwa’s pretty face got hurt.

The smug look on the man’s face was just as disgusting. “Then maybe a little bit more?” He nodded to two of the men and they left the room. There was a door opening somewhere, loud bass heavy music filtering out that hummed through the concrete under their feet. “Of what? Boredom?” Hongjoong through out with a bout of dry laughter. “I’ve had more intense fucks than this. Not even a whip or paddle or a knife? Booooring.” “Don’t give him any ideas, love, he’s already struggling with his creativity.” Seonghwa added on, finally lifting his head. “I think he might make it in a kindergarten painting class now.” 

In retaliation he grabbed Hwa by the hair again, yanking him up. Hongjoong was proud of the sinful moan Seonghwa let out, resulting in their ‘interrogator’ dropping his head and stepping back with a groan of disgust. “Seriously? Are you two getting off on this?” “Hardly. It’s not rough enough.” Seonghwa hummed out, licking his lips as he turned as if to look at Hongjoong. “You do it so much better baby.” “Ugh, gross.” 

Hongjoong had took a risk that the red wolves wouldn’t use them against each other sexually, too homophobic to do any touching or raping of sorts. He was glad that the risk was paying off.

Off in the distance they could hear the door and music again, and that feeling of dread returned. 

The wolf smirked, motioning to one of the men and pointing to the lights. Hongjoong watched with a frown as the hound turned two of their lights to the door, shining on the dark hallway just outside. A spotlight for a show.

“What? Got some fancy torture machine you’re going to bring out? Really, it’s like you want to get us off.” Despite that growing pit in his stomach, Hongjoong forced the taunt out. He wanted to wipe that disgusting smug smirk off his face the second the spotlight illuminated up the three people in the doorway.

Seonghwa’s pained gasp hurt as much as the sight of you. “Angel?” Hongjoong steeled his expression, taking in the sight of you to fuel the growing rage and bloodthirst that was building. Every cute, every drop of blood, every bruise, he would pay them back tenfold. None of that mattered compared to the mental damage they no doubt did on you, as you hadn’t even reacted to Seonghwa calling out for you. Body limp as you were dragged further into “Not so cocky now?” The wolf hummed out, making his way over to you and with each step Seonghwa and he began to thrash in their chains. “Oh you really don’t want me near her? Where do you think I am when I’m not here with you?” He slid up behind you, hand running over your exposed stomach and down. 

The way you tensed and began to shake wasn’t lost on the two men, both unable to look away from the one part of your naked body they had tried so hard to ignore. When the disgusting man cupped your bloody privates, Hongjoong let out a yell, thrashing even more against the chains. They had been loosening them slowly, but now it hadn’t been fast enough.

Not when the blindfold was removed from your eyes and the dead look in them brought tears burning behind their eyelids. Not when you wouldn’t look at them, you didn’t even seem mentally there.

“Can’t say her pussy was so good that I’d fight like this for it. Maybe her mouth if she hadn’t tried to bite off my dick. Ass far too tight…” He grabbed your mouth as he talked, smearing some of the dried blood from your lips and then thrust his hips against your back. Hongjoong knew he was taunting, just rubbing in the damage he had done to you, and it was working.

Seonghwa tried calling out for you again, desperation and pain in his tone that twisted Hongjoong’s heart further. Once more you didn’t react. “You son of a bitch let her go.” He threatened lowly, throttling hard enough the studs that kept the chair in place were beginning to break. For the briefest moments they froze, the brandishing of the knife against your throat giving them pause. You didn’t even flinch, but you trembled. The fear radiating off of you was palpable. What the fuck had he done to get you like this?

Only the beating of their hearts told them time was still passing, even their breath halted, the smug look on the wolf’s face growing by the second. He opened his mouth to taunt, but all hell broke loose before he got a word out.

The next few moments rushed by quickly, all starting with Seonghwa finally picking the chain and the metal falling loosely around them. Either because he finally got it loose, or because of who they saw just in the shadows of the bright doorway. Before the wolf had time to react, the knife was pulled out of his hand and tossed to Hongjoong who caught it easily, just as a gun was thrown to Seonghwa, thanks to Jongho rushing into the room and dislodging you from the man.

Finally, just in time, the others were here. That bit of relief had the other two men moving with confidence, fueled by their rage of what was done to you.

You fell limply against Jongho’s chest as he kicked the man right into one of the spotlights. He tripped over it, both crashing to the ground, which Hongjoong took as his opportunity to pounce on the man.

He spared no mercy as he first slit the man’s throat, just a bit shallow so he would suffer, then jabbed the knife into him over and over before he could bleed out. He kept eye contact, wanting his fury known. Even long after the body was limp beneath him he kept going, Seonghwa having effectively eliminated the blood hounds with a precise bullet to each of their skulls, leaving no enemy alive.

Only his rage. One stab for each mark on you. Each bruise. Each cut. For the number of times this disgusting being had probably violated you. For the dead look in your eyes, the way you trembled.

It was all Hongjoong could do, screaming at the dead man as if it could somehow take away the pain he inflicted on you. Seonghwa had to walk over and peel Hongjoong off of the dead body, grabbing his wrist to get him to drop the knife. They shared a look, Seonghwa shaking his head and then nudging his chin in your direction. He followed, tensing up at the sight of you huddled against Jongho’s chest, holding onto his shirt with such a death grip. 

Hongjoong knew you both still didn’t trust or like each other, so it shocked him out of his rage, the pain boiling to the surface once more. Jongho was leaning against the wall, holding you to him with both arms around your back. You were laying your cheek against his shoulder, breathing heavily and uneven but seemingly dazed. Tears had started falling down your cheeks, and Jongho looked as pained as Hongjoong was feeling. “We need to get her out of here Joongie.” Seonghwa gently prompted, rubbing his lover’s back. Despite how distraught he had been moments ago, Seonghwa sounded much more clear headed now. It helped ground Hongjoong, dropping the knife. “Where… where are the others?” Hongjoong managed to get out, still panting from the excursion of, well, murdering someone brutally. Jongho didn’t even look up from you, gaze glued to your face, following each tear that fell down your cheek. “Yunho is out front with the van, Mingi is setting up the explosives on the ground floor, San and I split up and he checked the floor below us-” He stopped as he heard music, the base vibrating through the concrete, and then it stopped. “That music was louder on the first floor, we took out the guards there when it was vibrating the place…” He trailed off when they heard screams. San’s screams.

They were screams of anguish. The three of them shared a silent look of understanding before glancing at you. He must have found the room you were kept in, aware the building was currently clear of enemies if he had entered the room to begin with. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with a pleading look. “He’ll need you, I won’t be calm enough.” “And I would be?” He hissed out, motioning to you just to have you flinch. It was both a good and bad sign. Good that you were still, to some extent aware of your surroundings… but that meant you were probably aware of what they just did. “Angel…” He sighed, relenting as he pocketed the gun and moved around slowly so as not to spook you. “Get her to the car, and then let's blow this place up.”

Seonghwa left then, hurrying down the hall and leaving behind silence. Hongjoong was afraid to reach for you at first, freezing up when his bloody hand got close. You stared at the blood there, seemingly more present, then looked up at him. He gave the softest most gentle smile he could muster at the moment. “Hey firecracker. You're safe now.”

Your gaze shifted to the dead body behind him, then back to him questionly. “Yes, I killed him. He hurt you, he didn't deserve to live another second. Now… do you want to go home with us? We can clean you up and feed you. Does that sound nice?”

The both of them waited for some answer from you, and it came in the form of wrapping your arms around Jongho's neck. The man held on tighter, looking up at his leader for answers on what to do. 

Hongjoong motioned at the door. “Carry her out, she's probably in a lot of pain so be gentle. You have Yeosang on the line?” He pointed to his ear where the piece was. At Jongho's nod while he slowly picked you up, Hongjoong grabbed it and stuck It in his ear. 

“How bad is it?” Yeosang immediately spoke into the piece and Hongjoong could hear a nervous clicking on the other side. “When I saw them grab her the other day I tried to get Yunho there I-”

“Yeosang. This isn't your fault.” Hongjoong chided  as he followed Jongho out of the room, keeping an eye out but he knew Seonghwa would have dealt with any strangers on his way. “She's alive, but I need you to warn the others. Where is Wooyoung?”

“He's with Minjae at the base. He was going to bring them in as backup if needed. He won't… he won't handle it Captain.”

“I know. So you're going to tell him to check the other locations and safe houses we have with Minjae and the others and that I want a full report tonight. We need to…” his gaze flickered back to you, still trembling in Jongho's arms and hiding your face against his shoulder. Jongho himself looked as pained as Hongjoong felt, but he was whispering gentle words to you so low that not even Hongjoong could make them out. “We're going to give her time to rest before Wooyoung sees her.”

“Understood? What else?” There was a firmness to Yeosang's tone that took Hongjoong by surprise, but he pushed on.

“Just warn Mingi and Yunho not to panic. Hwa is with San. If Yunho has a blanket or something to cover her, he needs to have it ready. Contact Wooyoung’s mother for a female doctor, Firecracker might trust-”

Hongjoong broke off when he heard someone else on the connection. Seonghwa. “Joong… there are pictures of what he did to her. The bed is soaked in blood and the chains…”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Mingi's voice suddenly cut in, broadcasting on all channels. “What the fuck did they do to our Princess?!”

“Easy Mingi. She needs us calm right now okay? Get this building ready to blow.” Hongjoong attempted to pacify him as the ascended the stairs. The skipped the floor below, hitting the ground floor and headed for the entrance. Mingi met them first and Hongjoong quickly moved to get in the way.

He hated the way his eyes went big and glassy, the color draining from his face as he stared at you. When Mingi tried to reach out though, Jongho stepped back, shaking his head. “She just stopped shaking. Don't. No more surprises for her.”

Hongjoong was shocked by the defensiveness of Jongho’s tone, so was Mingi, both staring at him like the many just grew a second head.

Jongho dipped his head and just rushed off for the door, past the two dead guards there. So Mingi turned to Hongjoong, finally taking in the blood that covered him before asking. “Tell me that belongs to the one who hurt her.”

“It does.” It was Seonghwa that answered, holding an angry San by the back of the neck as they descended the stairs. “He's nothing more than a mutilated corpse. We started a fire in the room she was held in, but let's burn this whole place to the ground.”

“Is she…” San prompted, blood sneered on his cheek and a crumbled picture in his hand. “She’s alive right?” He refused to look at either of them, his shoulders and voice trembling.

Hongjoong knew that this was hardest for San no doubt, with his experience and his past with you. Softly Hongjoong patted his broad shoulders. “She needs us to be strong, okay? Would our firecracker want us looking at her like she's broken goods?”

“No.” The three others, and Yeosang, all chimed in.

“Then let's go. It's about time we take her home.” He guided them outside to the waiting van, the door was open and Jongho was sitting on the floor, his back against the driver seat a very pissed off Yunho sat in. The man was gripping the steering wheel hard enough the veins on his hands were sticking out.

Hongjoong forced Mingi up front, climbing in the back with Seonghwa who was already covering you up with the blankets since Jongho refused to let you go. Er, well, you were now holding onto his arm so Hongjoong could only assume you didn't let him.

That just hurt more.

No more than a few seconds of pulling away from the building did a series of explosions go off, the building crumbling to rabble but for Hongjoong that wasn't enough. He couldn't take away what had happened to you, just the place it did. Nor could he undo the fact it happened to you… because of him. Of them and where they had you.

Only silence accompanied the somber tension in the van.

Taglist will be added to reblogs so they will be easy to ignore!

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.