#at all times they are 2 steps to the left of dysfunction to the point of Severe Distress

[thegreatyin]

neon future scoundrel is like. one of those incredibly unstable influencers that's having public meltdowns every two weeks and you're honestly not sure if you should be happy they keep getting karmic retribution for their actions or pity that they keep Going Fucking Through It

[kimarii-00]

Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.

(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)

Regrets and Punishments

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language

❥Word Count: 2.7k

❥Part 1/2

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AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)

I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol

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He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.

Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.

“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.

“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.

“This is my son, Armando.”

“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.

“Then take him to your house.”

Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.

Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.

They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.

“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.

“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.

“It was English!”

“It was definitely English.”

“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”

“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”

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When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.

“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.

The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.

“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.

“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.

“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.

“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.

The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.

“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.

“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.

“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”

“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-

Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.

3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.

“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.

“Sara.”

You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.

“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”

“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?

“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.

“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.

You smile and turn to leave.

If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

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You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.

You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”

She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.

Should I even be here right now…?

“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.

“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”

“(Name)?”

You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.

It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.

“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.

You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.

“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.

“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”

“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.

“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?

“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”

You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–

Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…

“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.

Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?

Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.

“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.

Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.

Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.

A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”

“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.

“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”

“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.

“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…

He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.

Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.

The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.

There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.

“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.

Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.

Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.

You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.

What the hell just happened?

[nightlyrequiem]

DIGEST

"Just the scattered remnants of a society frozen in its last moments."

Chapter 2. Rat King

AO3 Masterlist Previous Next

w/c- 5,724

Humanity has fallen, rotting monsters roam about freely, and you were bit. However, when the fever passes, you're alive and whole. For now. Soon the wound begins to fester, and you need to venture outside to get antibiotics or risk succumbing to an infection anyway. Though it turns out the dead aren't the only things you have to worry about.

A/N- Sorry for the wait! I had this sitting in the drafts for like a month. I think it would be cool to introduce different types of infected. Like the stages of infected in The Last of Us, or the variants from The Walking Dead. Also, this is the most words I've written for a single thing. Go Me.

Tags/Warnings: Tags Will Be Updated as Story Progresses, WLW, Dysfunctional Relationship, Gore, Apocalypse/Infection AU, No Use of The Word Zombie, Violence, Gore, Angst, Valeria is a Bad Person, Seizures, Mild-Body Horror, Horror, Thriller

Valeria wants to go back to Mexico. You thought she was joking when she told you, because Mexico is a long way away and safe transportation options have become very limited. But no, she wants to go to Mexico. 

You curl your feet up under you. Feeling the familiar fabric of your couch. It's the last time you'll feel it. The thought saddens you. It was the first piece of furniture you bought yourself. When you first moved into this apartment all you had was a mattress and a dresser. Over time you had furnished your home all on your own, proudly bragging to your mom when you had your monthly calls. It was just furniture, but she acted like you actually finished college and got that welding degree you said you would get.

You and Valeria left the pharmacy for your apartment as soon as it got light enough out. She wanted the extra food you had, which was admittedly not much. You were still very weak but every time you tried to stop and rest Valeria was shoving you back to your feet. At one point she got so annoyed that she struck you in the shoulder with her pistol. Hard enough that hours later, you're still sore.

You rest up on your couch while Valeria loots your apartment. Bagging any food that hasn't spoiled or won't spoil for a long time. You had packed a few things on your own. You grabbed the little plush racoon on your bed and stuffed it into your backpack. It's useless, old, and torn in some of the seams. Bleeding out its stuffing. But it was your mom's when she was a girl, and it's been yours since you were one too. You weren't even thinking, you just saw it and grabbed it.

"Let's go." Valeria says. Jerking her head at you to follow. You get up and fight back nausea at the sudden movement.  Valeria waits for you by the door. You step over your neighbor again as you leave. Shuddering at the memory of her teeth in your arm.

You walk in silence. Just the rustling of clothes and your bags making noise with your movements. The sun bares down on you mercilessly, making you sweat. Something clatters in a shaded alley next to you, startling the both of you. You freeze and stare off. Eyes searching along the dirt path and overgrown grass. Valeria roughly tugs your arm for you to keep moving.

You've never seen any of the... boogeys, as Valeria would call them, out during the day. You don't hear them much either. Not outside anyway. In the apartment, you could occasionally hear them shuffling around in the halls. It makes everything feel deceptively safe. The longer you stay in the sun the sicker you start to feel. You keep quiet about it, remembering how she treated you when you tried to rest last time. 

You look back behind you at your apartment complex. Missing the brick and white columns already.

"If you bit someone, do you think you'd infect them?" Valeria asks. Her voice sounds unnaturally loud when there's no other sounds to compete with it, and she lowers it on the last few words, correcting her volume.

"What?" You ask. Furrowing your brows. You immediately smooth them out. Frowning it only going to make your headache worse.

Valeria looks at you. "Do you think you're still infected?" 

"No," You say, confused. "If I was, I'd be dead by now." You think. Hope. The thought once again occurs that maybe you are dying, just doing it really slowly. The idea is distressing so you try not to think about. Out of sight out of mind.

Valeria reaches into her pocket and pulls out a granola bar, unwrapping it and shoving half of it into her mouth.

"What if you're asymptomatic though." She replies. Looking at you analytically. There's a gleam in her dark eyes that's making you uncomfortable. Like she's wondering what benefits that would bring her.

"I'm not asymptomatic." You respond. Stepping to the left so you can walk in the shade provided by a building. "I'm like, incredibly sick."

Valeria shrugs.

Valeria leans against the side of a building as you persistently vomit onto the sidewalk. Dry heaving and quivering in both disgust and discomfort. Your body aches are flaring up and you feel nearly blind from your headache. You feel like you're going to pass out at any second. It's a struggle to keep your body upright when your limbs are full of that numb disconnected feeling.

"We're almost out of downtown." Valeria says, not at all concerned by your sickly state or vomiting. She has, after all, seen worse. "We'll keep going until we find suitable shelter. We've got a couple hours of daylight left." She glances up at the sky.

Every step brings you pain. You try to plead with her into allowing you some rest time, trying to play into her humanity, but she has about as much of that as the infected do. You come across a nice house with a view of the river. One you've passed by many times before when life was normal. It's built on a hill, with stone steps leading up to it. It's painted a faded red colour. Valeria follows you up the steps and to the door. She makes you go in first, like always. You go in and creep around slowly. Checking all the rooms and almost freezing from the fear of not knowing what's inside. Though you (maybe) managed to survive being bitten once, you don't know if you'd survive again.

You stop by one of the upstairs bedrooms, getting a peak through the cracked door. The walls are painted a light pink and you see a shelf filled with toys. a child's room, you reckon. Pushing open the door you actually freeze this time. Crouched in the corner is a little girl. Subtly swaying. Her hair is thin, almost gone completely, just scabby patches of scalp left. The shirt she's wearing, blue at once point you think, is torn in places and darkened drastically at the shoulder with old blood.

You back away slowly, careful not to make any noises. Back outside with Valeria, you inform her of the little infected kid.

"Just the kid?" She asks. looking over at the towering downtown buildings in the distance.

"Yeah." You nod.

"Okay." She nods. "We'll stay here for the night." She decides. She grabs your arm and pulls you inside. Shutting the door behind you.

The first thing she does is go upstairs and dispatch the kid. Not sure if you can stomach it, you wait in the hall. You hear it some kind of high-pitched growling as Valeria disturbs it. There are a few thumps, more growling, then a grunt from Valeria. Everything goes quiet and Valeria comes out, wiping the bloody blade of her knife on her pants. She brushes past you and walks into the master bedroom. You stay rooted to the dirty floorboards. Staring into the child's bedroom.

You cautiously step inside and approach the body with morbid curiosity. As well as pity. She's so small. The bones in her hands and exposed shoulder jutting and sharp. You look around, spotting her bed. The covers have been pulled off and hung up between two shelves. A blanket fort, you realize with a sharp pang. you walk over and inspect it. It's been pinned to the two shelves using thick books that likely didn't belong to her. You bend down and peek inside. there are more blankets. And pillows. And a council of stuffed animals. There are smears of blood in one corner. You imagine her getting bit and not knowing what else to do but retreat into her blanket fort. Going to the only perceivable place she can think of. Holding her stuffed animals close as she bleeds. As she gets sick and her mind deteriorates. You wander who bit it her, if it was her parents. There's no sign of them, infected or living. You spot a fluffy notebook and grab it, flipping through the pages and seeing the barely legible writing most little kids have.

You leave the room and shut the door. Not before leaning down to whisper an apology into the little girl's ear. She has nothing to be afraid of now, at least.

Valeria pushes the heaviest furniture she can find, blocking up the staircase.

"We don't need access to the whole house." She explains. "I locked the doors and windows downstairs; this is just extra caution."

The sun sets over the river. Making the water look like it's on fire. You pretend this is your house and that you're just enjoying a simple sunset. Pretending that the yellow eyes of cars are flashing over the bridge.

"Come here." Valeria says, beckoning you into the master bedroom. With one final longing look out at the river you follow her into the bedroom. She pulls out a length of rope and looks at you.

You frown at her.

"No." You say. Stepping away. She steps forward.

"Yes." She replies firmly. "I don't want you running off in the night, or worse."

You stare at the rope dubiously. Vision swimming in and out. You're exhausted and want to lay down, you couldn't pose a threat to her if you wanted to.

"If something gets inside I'll be trapped." You argue, frowning at her and shuddering at the thought of not being able to run or fight back as a hungry infected tears you open. Valeria, completely unsympathetic, stalks forward and grabs your arm roughly. Fingers clamping around your tender bicep and making you flinch in pain.

You don't struggle too much. On account of your sever dizziness, headache, and overall weakness. Valeria securely raps the thick rope around you, tying down your arms. She forces you to sit and even ties your feet together. Something you think is completely unnecessary. You're learning firsthand that Valeria is a paranoid woman. The room is swallowed in darkness and she flicks on her flashlight. Flashing you in the eyes for her own amusement. She moves away from you and crawls onto the bed, rustling around with the blankets and laying down, turning off her flashlight.

Your back and ass ache from the position you're in. The noise of the awakened infected bleeds through the walls. Some cry out and sound like coyotes, some call out for loved ones.

"Can I have a pillow?" You whisper.

"No." Valeria answers. A disembodied voice in the dark.

"Please?" You ask. Voice pathetically cracking.

"Stop talking. I'm trying to sleep."

You try to ask a few more times, but Valeria stops responding to you. You shift around and throw yourself onto your side, grimacing at the loud thump you make. You try your best to fall asleep but it's not an easy task. 

You simply lay there. In pain, and with the sound of dead people for ambience. You think Valeria may have finally fallen asleep, though you're not certain. It sends a pang of loneliness through you. When you were young, you had issues with not falling asleep first. Your parents would put you to bed at 8PM and you'd fall asleep within the hour. But sometimes you didn't. You'd lay there until the sound of the TV in the living room went silent and you knew your parents were asleep. It was those moments where you felt an indiscernible, overwhelming loneliness. You don't like being the only one awake.

The older you grew the less frequently you felt that way until you forgot about that feeling all together. Even after moving out on your own. It probably helped that you had many nocturnal neighbors. Now though, that feeling has returned tenfold and you can't help but cry a little. Soft tears that dry out your skin and leave you congested.

The harsh, unnatural sounds of the dead give way to the gentle singing of birds as the sun rises high and proud in the sky. The sky is a vibrant cerulean with a few wispy pale clouds. A gentle breeze sends ripples over the river's surface, disturbing the reflections of the sky and trees. A boot nudging you in the ribs rouses you. Your eyelids stick together, and you struggle to open them. You can tell by the headache developing behind your eyes and the scratchy quality of your throat that you're not in for a good day today.

"Rise and shine, Niña muerta." Valeria says. Bending down and helping you sit up. She makes a face at you. "You look awful. Smell awful too." She begins to saw at the rope with a little switchblade to free you. Accidently nicking your wrist.

Valeria doesn't help you to your feet. Choosing to watch you struggle on your own, using the wall for support. Valeria reaches into her pocket and takes out a bottle of anti-biotics. Rattling it at you like a cat toy. You reach for it, but she retracts her hand. She pops off the lid and shakes out two little white pills and hands them to you. They may as well be made of barbwire. That's what your throat thinks, anyway.

"Come on," She calls, clicking her fancy little belt back on. You ponder if she even has anything in all those little pouches.

You spot the little notebook on the floor and bend down, grabbing it.

"What's that?" Valeria asks

You look up. "It's the little girl's diary," You tell her. You stuff it under your arm.

Valeria wrinkles her nose. "Why'd you take it?"

You frown. "I don't know," You say a little self-consciously. "she was a little girl, and I don't think she should be remembered as a monster." You picture her running around her yard, her parents looking out the window. She was clearly loved, judging by her room.

"She's dead, I doubt she cares about how she's remembered." Valeria snorts. She gestures for you to walk ahead of her, done with talking now.

 Valeria isn't in a very talkative mood. The silence is only interrupted by the sounds of your footsteps on the ground. You drag your feet. You chalk up your lethargy to barely getting any sleep last night. It feels like someone slipped bricks under your clothes. The sun beats down on you mercilessly, sucking up all your energy. Like reverse solar power. Valeria walks behind you, not as bothered by the light or heat as you are. When you start walking too slow for her comfort, she prods you in the back to keep you moving. Denying all your requests for breaks.

The city around you seems to swim as you observe it. If you didn't feel so ill you might even let yourself appreciate the architecture. Not that it's anything particularly impressive but you still admire the sight of the towering buildings in the distance. Your thoughts cut off when a dangerous, numbing chill settles into your limbs. The joining nausea warns you of an oncoming seizure. You know this feeling well. After being bit that was just your existing state. The chill, nausea, static vision. Then you'll collapse and be rendered unconscious for however long. Your reward for all that is waking up in a puddle of vomit with an extremely bad headache, and sometimes soiled clothing.

You don't say anything to Valeria though, even as you get progressively worse, and the dread of seizing gets heavier. You're just hoping that if you fight it hard enough the feeling will go away but you know it won't when your mouth begins to water. 

*                                             *                                           *

Valeria watches you closely. She's been studying you since leaving the river house. Watching as your walk becomes more and more unstable. The delicate sound of your panting reaches her ears. It makes her a little nervous. Are you finally succumbing to your bite? Just as the thought floats through her mind your legs buckle and you collapse, convulsing wildly. It startles Valeria, who immediately lunges down, shaking you and calling your name. Your eyes have rolled back and your teeth are bared in a grimace. You make an awful choaking noise and she realizes your choking on your own saliva. She rolls you onto your side, not being able to do anything more than watch.

The twitching stops and you finally go still. Skin slicked with sweat and taking on a sickly pallor. she leans over you and shakes your shoulder.

"Hey." She says. "Wake up." She's never seen a seizure in person before and doesn't know if this is normal. In the movies, people just wake up like nothing happened. She checks your pulse to make sure you didn't just croak on her and relaxes a little when she finds your heartbeat. She looks up at the sun, squinting at its brightness. It's almost noon. Roughly. She looks around, what for she's not sure. Then she looks back down at you. She doesn't want to stay here, it's exposed and she's not sure for how long you'll stay unconscious for. 

Carrying you probably wouldn't be too taxing. Food isn't exactly in abundance anymore. Valeria herself has lost a significant amount of weight. She doubts you've been eating any better than she has, not only that, but the infection must have been eating at you as well. She reaches down and grabs ahold of you, finding that she's actually struggling a bit. She relents that she won't be able to carry you and decides to drag you instead. She does you the curtesy of tucking your shirt into your pants, so she doesn't scrape your back raw. Something groans from under a car and makes Valeria go still.

She drops you and stands tall. Looking towards the abandoned vehicle.

"What the fuck is that?" Something calls out. It sounds human but Valeria is familiar enough with the unfeeling tone of the infected to know it's not. She unholsters her pistol and clutches it tightly. A part of her feels a little ashamed at how afraid the voice is making her feel. Valeria strayed up to the great white north to sniff out prospective business partners. Back then Ruberoculus was only a passing rumor. It was obvious to anyone with critical thinking skills that it would turn into something more but nobody was prepared for just how fast it spread. Valeria was only here for a week when the world went into a state of emergency and countries began closing their borders, effectively trapping Valeria.

She consequently ended up in the hospital for a minor flesh wound she couldn't patch herself. Having to share a room with six other non-emergency patients because the building was just so overcrowded. Probably the worst place to be when the pandemic reached its climax. Valeria worked hard to make herself strong and threatening so that she'd never have to afraid again, but when the alarms started blaring and that godawful red light began flashing, Valeria Garza froze with fear.

She had to fight her way out of the hospital. Up against hostiles that just wouldn't stay dead. She watched people tear open other people. The thing that disturbs her the most about the infected are their affinity for speaking. Mimicking human cries to lure out prey. A sallow, spotty arm suddenly reaches out from under the car. Its fingernails long and yellowed. Some missing entirely leaving just a blackened bed. Another, just as grotesque arm joins it. The wasting muscles flex as the thing pulls itself out from under the car. Revealing a sunken face and clumpy, greasy hair missing in patches. Bloodshot eyes meet hers and it screams. Valeria's heart kickstarts and she shoots in on instinct. The screaming is cut off abruptly and Valeria's ears are left ringing.

The area around her starts coming alive slowly. Growls and laughter echoing from the shadows. In the window of a building a face darts into view, watching with wide, glazed eyes before darting away. Valeria grabs you and hauls you off, dragging you down the street and zigzagging between cars. Going as fast as she's physically able to. A few boogeys venture out from the building. It's weird seeing them out during the day. These ones don't speak, instead rushing for her. Wobbling and stumbling but far too fucking fast for Valeria's comfort. She fires more shots, sending them sprawling into the cement.

Valeria learns two things today. The infected can go out during the day, and they're very attracted to loud noises. It feels like they're pouring out of every shadowy crack and seam. Running at Valeria and you. Valeria is tempted for a split second to leave you, make a run for it. You're already bitten; would they bother with you? Working on adrenaline and autopilot she grabs your ankle and drags you to a disturbed manhole cover, kicking it aside and throwing you down into the sewers. Your body lands with a loud thump and Valeria quickly crawls down after you, pulling the cover in place just as mottled fingers reach for her.

Breathing heavily proves to be disadvantage down here. Each lungful pulling in the smell and taste of sewage to coat her tongue and throat. Valeria pats herself down for her flashlight and turns it on, the great white beam cutting through the darkness. Little glowing dots dart around, followed by high pitched squeaking. She leans down to check on you, making sure the fall didn't snap your neck. You're alive and will probably be very sore when you wake up. If you wake up. Valeria's mouth forms a thin line. She spots the notebook beside you. She was a little girl, and I don't think she should be remembered as a monster. Valeria grabs it and slips it into your bag, pausing when she spots a stuffed racoon. She furrows her brows, wondering you if you took that from the girl's room too.

*                                              *                                             *

It's not until hours later when you begin to stir, eyes peeling open, nose assaulted by the rancid, potent smell of the sewers. Your head swims but you sit up anyway, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

"Ugh." You exclaim. Looking at the rat shit sitting in piles along the stone platform. 

"You're awake." Comes Valeria's low voice. "Good." You turn to look at her. She pushes off the wall and approaches you, an agitated expression on her face.

"Why are we down here?" You ask, confused. Struggling to recall what happened. Bright lights, walking, the river. You know you must've had a seizure.

"You had a seizure, and the noise attracted the undead." Valeria says sharply, like it's your fault. she also fails to mention her trigger-happy finger had actually set them off.

You stand up and lean against the wall, feeling weak. Valeria gazes at you with no sympathy whatsoever.

"I'm surprised you didn't leave me." You say, eyeing her curiously.

"Don't try to twist this into me being kind to you," Valeria scoffs. "There's still some use I can get out of you that makes you worth keeping alive." She continues ominously. 

"Okay." You shrug. Too tired and too in pain to argue. You wince at a sharp throbbing in your back. "Are we going to go now?" You ask.

Valeria doesn't reply. Instead climbing up the metal ladder and slowly pushes the cover away. Dim light of dusk falls through and spotlights you. You must have been out for longer than you thought. The idea of losing that much time fills you with dread.

Valeria climbs back down and sighs irritably.

"We can't go anywhere now. We're going to have to spend the night down here." She says angrily. Her form is tense and you instinctively inch away from her. She kicks the rungs of the ladder and curses loudly, her voice echoing off of the stones. You aren't too keen on the prospect of bedding down in a sewer either. Especially not with rats. Valeria's voice finally goes silent. You start to relax a bit when a noise jolts you right back into a stress response. A low gargling groan. Valeria's head whips to the direction the noise came from, reaching for her gun and resting a hand over the cool smooth metal.

The both of you fall silent and listen. Your ears ring from the effort of trying to distinguish the sounds of the rats and water to... other things. You cast a sidelong glance at Valeria, a look which she ignores. She suddenly doesn't feel like the biggest threat down here and you shift closer to her. Comforted by the fact that she has a gun. Something shuffles along, just behind the corner. You want to tell Valeria to turn off her light but you're too afraid of speaking. A bloated arm snakes into sight, the skin bubbly and charred. A hand clamps down along the wall. A third slaps down on the floor and pulls. A hulking beast lumbers into view, a horror of multiple bodies melded into one.

The beam of light shines onto one head, reflecting milky eyes and a gaping mouth of teeth. It cries out at the sight of the both of you. A shout of discorded screams. A second head stuck onto the shoulder watches with one wide eye from the side, jaw opening and closing, clacking it's teeth at you. The monster, surprisingly speedy stalks forward. Tripping over it's own, many limbs. It's blocking the only way forward. Terror squeezes you and threatens to overwhelm you. You could go up but you won't climb fast enough to escape and there's more infected running around above.

You imagine this thing crushing you into the ground with it's deformed body. Pulling you in like it's flesh is made of playdough and absorbing you, dooming you to join it. You're going to die down here, in the sewer. Valeria grabs her gun but you know she won't be quick enough. Without thinking you slam into her and throw the both of you off the platform into the still gray sludge in the canal. Barely missing being grabbed by swollen fingers. Sewage slimes to your face but you ignore it. Wading through it as the monster crashes down behind you.

Valeria hauls herself back up onto the platform and you try to join her. Your fingers, slick with sewage, slip off the edge. The infected draws closer, reaching out it's arms towards you desperately. You jump and scramble, trying to escape. Strong hands clamp down on your hands and pull you up. Valeria gives you no grace period, pushing you forward. Furious screaming follows you down the tunnel as you limp away. You look behind you, alarmed by the thing slithering back up onto the platform with barely any struggle. It's hulking body glistening.

It crawls after you like an animal. The way it uses it's many hands to move along it's stomach reminds you of a centipede. You and Valeria come up to a gate. She grabs it and shakes the metal bars.

"Fuck!" She hisses. You think you're going to be sick. You're not sure if it's from the infection, being covered in sewage, or the fear. Valeria turns and fires at the infected. Emptying her clip into it but it's not perturbed. You spot a broken pipe and grab it, trembling as you ready yourself.

You pull your arms back and use momentum to slam the pipe into the thing's head. You hear the harsh snapping of it's jaw when the bone shatters on impact. It squeals and jerks to the side. You don't hesitate to bring down the pipe onto it's hunched back. The charred, blackened skin splits open and begins to bleed. You try to swing again but it rears up and grabs the pipe, pushing you onto the ground. Saliva and blood drips down onto your neck and face.

"Help me!" You gasp, barely keeping one of the heads away. "Valeria! Do something please!" It stumbles away and growls wetly, the growl turning into a loud screech as Valeria digs a knife into it's back and rips downwards. The arms on it's back uselessly flail, trying to grab her. She knifes one of the heads. You crawl out from under it and blindly swing the pipe at it. It falls and you mercilessly beat it's head, cracking it open like a watermelon. Valeria grabs you and pulls you away.

"It's dead. Stop." She says hoarsely, very out of breath. You tremble, staring down at the lump of orgonic matter.

You and Valeria don't speak as you walk. Sticking close to one another, exhausted and sore. Wandering through the elaborate sewer tunnels you come across a gaping hole in the ceiling. The surrounding area destroyed and black with evidence of a fire. Valeria leads you away from it.

The night in the sewers comes to an end. You and Valeria emerge from a different manhole, greeted by the soft light of morning. You ignore the urge to crawl back into the dark and pull yourself up. Your back throbs with an almost excruciating pain. The sewage is starting dry and it's making you itch. You desperately want to get clean. By the set of Valeria's jaw you can tell she wants the same.

"We need to clean up." she says tiredly, echoing your thoughts. With no clean clothes, you and Valeria are forced to wander into a nearby store. There are a few dormant infected clustered at the back in the darkest corner of the store.

Cautiously, you and Valeria grab new, clean pieces of clothing as well as extras. Leaving before you alert the sleeping boogeys. Valeria makes you hold all the clothes.

"We'll wash up in the river." She says. "Do you know a quicker way down there?"

"No." You mumble. You didn't spend a whole lot of time over here. With a pang of regret, you realize you should've. You truly don't know what you have until it's taken from you. You and Valeria walk along the steep muddy bank. Finding a suitable place to wade into the water. You hesitate, wondering how you're going to do this. You look towards Valeria to see her stripping down without a second thought.

You look away, caught off guard. Then look back at her. She pulls everything off. You're surprised by how comfortable she is being nude around a stranger. You turn away politely, wanting to give her some privacy. You slump down into the dirt, listening to the sounds of her scrubbing herself clean with a balled up shirt. She walks out of the water and approaches you. 

"Clothes." She demands. You turn, greeted by the sight of her crotch. Looking up quickly and hoping embarrassment doesn't show on your face, you hand her the clothes for her to pick from. It's your turn. You're excited to get clean, but you feel a little nervous about being naked in her presence.

It's a little hard not to, when exposed to her body. She clearly took great care in herself before the end. You pause.

"Don't look." You tell her sternly. Valeria rolls her eyes and turns away.

"Wasn't going to." She says flatly. you're relieved, and a little offended. you pull off your shirt, gagging at the smell. Your bra and pants following. You discard them on the bank and shuffle into the water, relieved by the coolness. You didn't realize how hot your body felt until stepping into the river. The muscles in your legs relax too, making it easier to move. You glide your fingers over the sparkling water, watching it ripple. You lean down and dunk yourself under. Pleasure washes over you. You resurface and scrub off the sewage, cleaning yourself thoroughly. You check over your wound, it's already infected but what if it's worse now?

You gently prod the edges of the inflamed teeth marks and hiss in pain. It's still tender and hot to the touch. You hope neither the sewage or the river water make it worse.

Valeria barks your name from the sand.

"you've been in there for twenty-minutes. Stop wasting time and get dressed!" She snaps. You're sorry to leave the river. This is the first time since being bitten that your body hasn't been in pain. Even the light seems more tolerable. Your skin prickles with self-consciousness as Valeria watches you wade out. You put on some clean clothes and try not to go too fast. Not wanting her to see how embarrassed you feel. 

There's no time for rest. Valeria wants to cross the bridge. You're not sure how she plans on making it back to Mexico. Even if she had a vehicle, driving there would take over a day. You can't imagine how long it would take to walk.

"It's less packed up here." Valeria comments, looking around. There's more space between the abandoned vehicles. 

"We should start checking them, see if any still have keys in the ignition." you suggest. Eager at the thought of getting out of the sun, even if it's just by getting into a car. you're tired of walking, too. This is the most walking you think you've done in your life.

"Yeah." Valeria mutters her agreement. Valeria walks towards a little white sedan and tries the door. 

Unsurprisingly, they open. She looks around, fishing for keys.

"Will it still have gas...?" You ask uncertainly. Gas expires after a while, has it been long enough?

"Maybe." Valeria answers. "Assuming the owners left for another reason and not because they ran out." You slip up behind her, watching silently. She searches through the glove box and pulls out the keys. She looks behind her at you, smiling triumphantly. She crawls into the driver's seat and inserts the key into the ignition, pressing the start button. The engine purrs to life. Giving you and Valeria a shared moment of joy. You shove yours and Valeria's bags into the backseat and get in beside her. Settling into the warm, sun-bleached leather seats. Valeria sets the car into drive and expertly pulls out from between the two cars it was parked between, setting off towards the bridge.

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt 4

Hiiiiiiiii! Sorry this took a minute, It's midterm season and I just adopted a new cat because I can. It's been busy. Hope you enjoy :p

Word count: 4.7k

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3

Lae’zel tilts her head, eyes closed, as she listens to the distant shouting. You open your mouth to ask her what’s happening, but even with her eyes closed she somehow senses what you’re about to say and holds up a hand, silencing you.

Patience has never been a virtue of yours.

You bite your tongue and bounce on the balls of your feet while you wait. A glance at Astarion reveals a similar image. His head is inclined in the same direction as Lae’zel’s, his eyes unfocused. It seems that you and Gale are the only two with inferior hearing. He at least seems much less frustrated by that fact. You watch as he draws some sort of glyph in the dirt with the toe of his boot.

In his defense, after the day you’ve all had, some shouting isn’t all that alarming compared to abduction and mind flayer parasitization. 

Still, you can hear the differences in the voices even if you can’t quite discern what they’re saying. There are at least half a dozen people not far off from you, people who might be able to point you in the direction of a healer.

“We were right,” says Astarion after a pause that felt as if it spanned centuries, “There is a civilization up ahead.”

“Not for much longer,” Lae’zel drones in a bored voice.

“What?” You ask at the same time a horn sounds somewhere in the distance, followed by a rallied war cry.

“Goblins,” Astarion mutters.

Because why not?

You bite down on your bottom lip until you taste blood, weighing your options.

If a band of goblins takes whatever camp they’re attacking they’ll kill the only people you’ve managed to find after an entire day of walking. Your days are numbered now, and you don’t have many left. There doesn’t seem to be a choice to make. You turn to start down the path leading to all the noise when Astarion catches your arm.

“Wait.”

You try to pull out of his grasp but his grip only tightens. 

“What?” You snap.

“Why do we have to play hero for every sad soul we come across? This will make what, the fourth life or death altercation of the day?”

“Those people will die without our help!”

“People die everyday! Your inability to accept that fact is going to get us all killed alongside them.”

You rip your knife from its sheath and flip it up, holding the blade an inch from his throat. A normal person would have let you go and backed away from the weapon aimed at their jugular. Astarion only raises an eyebrow in a silent dare. Not the response you expected, but it is nice to see him on the receiving end of a knife to the throat for a change.

Lae’zel, who seemed to be regarding your disagreement with a cool disinterest, perks up at the sight of a weapon drawn. She unsheathes a blade of her own and begins cleaning her nails with it, watching you and Astarion with a sort of wicked approval. 

Gale, who appears to be the most reasonable one of the group, takes a step back. He eyes you both warily, but you get the impression that he's mildly satisfied to see Astarion in the same position he himself was in just a few hours earlier, a weapon aimed at his head. 

As a group you are rather dysfunctional.

“Those people currently being slaughtered may know something about the tadpoles in our heads, or at the very least may be able to point us to the creche. We’ve been wandering the wilds for hours. We have days before these parasites rip us apart. If you want to leave the best chance we have stranded to be murdered by a pack of goblins, be my guest, but I’m not taking that chance. Let. Me. Go.”

Astarion’s eyes narrow, but he drops your arm.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Tav.”

“I hate to agree with him” Gale chimes in, “But it seems rather reckless to jump into battle without a plan.”

Lae’zel flashes the men a feral smile, gleeful at the prospect of bloodshed.

“The plan is to eliminate the goblin scourge. If that is too complicated for you, remain here until we return” She drawls 

She turns and stalks away, following the sounds of screeching goblins and howling wolves.

Astarion tilts his head back and sighs deeply as you follow her, muttering something under his breath.

Still, as you pass him you feel him silently fall into step behind you. Gale reluctantly trudges along, lamenting about how much he misses his library.

The noise of the battle grows louder with every step. Swords clang and wolves snarl loud enough to shake the ground under your feet. You break the treeline and find yourself at the narrow entrance to a small clearing in the middle of the dense woods.

To your left is a large rocky hill that overlooks the clearing. To your right, a cliff that connects to a massive wall split by a heavy wooden gate.

You stand in the bottleneck, watching chaos unfold in the field ahead. A horde of goblins- stout little creatures with razor sharp teeth and a bloodlust that probably rivals Astarion’s, are throwing everything they have at a human scouting party. A few tieflings stand on the wall, frantically shouting for back-up and returning fire when they aren’t being pelted with arrows. 

The air is heavy with the smell of blood and smoke.

Astarion takes a deep breath through his nose and hums a low, pleased sound that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

Lae’zel observes the carnage and laughs, a sound you admittedly didn’t know she was capable of making. 

In a flash her greatsword is in her hands and she’s diving into the fray with all the murderous enthusiasm of a rabid displacer beast. 

She blocks the swing of a bugbear’s club and throws it off balance, but misses her next attack on the creature as it throws itself to the side. She hisses in rage and stalks after it as it scrambles away on its hands and knees.

Her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed, and several goblins turn, redirecting their murderous rage towards your group.

You hear Gale begin muttering the sleep incantation and do your best to provide cover as he chants, launching magic missiles at any creature that comes too close. You do a decent amount of damage, knocking more than one goblin clear off its feet, but they don’t seem to notice the pain. They only seem to get angrier as they charge the humans at the gate. You could use an archer right about now.

Where the hell is Astarion?

You whip your head around, scanning the battlefield, but he has disappeared completely. Disappointment fills you when you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. You didn’t take him for a coward but it’s possible you misjudged him. You don’t have time to dwell on it now. 

A flash of silver catches your eye in your search, and you’re momentarily distracted by a strange newcomer cutting his way through a throng of goblins. He’s not dressed like the other humans, his clothes are dark and well armored as opposed to the brown leather outfits woven with leaves the scouting party are wearing, presumably for camouflage. He’s brandishing a blood soaked rapier, and you can’t tell exactly what from here but you think there’s something off about one of his eyes. 

He laughs as he cuts down a snarling goblin. There’s something so distinctly familiar about him, but now is neither the time nor place to find out what it is.

A goblin whose arm was singed by one of your missiles turns and locks eyes with you, smoke curling up from his burned flesh. The smell has bile rising up from your stomach. It lifts its scimitar above its head and screams a battle cry, sprinting for you with a promise of death in his eyes. 

Time itself seems to slow as you raise a shaking hand. Your power recoils when you reach for it. Your vision swims. The strain sends a spike of pain through your skull. You’ve used all the magic you can. 

The goblin is a few steps from you now. The rusted blade he holds above his head is dripping black blood, and so are the pointed shark-like teeth he bares at you in a snarl.

You suppose this ending is slightly preferable to becoming a mind flayer, though not by much.

You brace yourself as the goblin lunges for you, but a brief flash of light slams into it mid-air, and it drops like a stone at your feet. 

You stare at it in stunned silence for a moment before an unexpected sound rattles its small frame.

Is it… snoring?

You whip your head toward Gale, whose eyes are glowing with pure white light. He nods at you and continues casting, launching magic missiles of his own at one of the goblin’s wolves. 

You take the rescue for what it is and plunge your knife into the sleeping monster. It twitches once, and the snoring stops.

You’re out of spells. You have firebolt as a cantrip, but every time you use it your vision blurs and vertigo wracks your body. You wouldn’t know how to shoot a bow even if you had one. If you want to continue fighting the goblins you’re going to have to get a lot closer.

You leave Gale to his casting on the outskirts of the battle and cut your way towards the center, forgetting that you’re opening yourself up to fire from the archers positioned somewhere on the hill above you.

You realize far too late that you don’t have a shield, but you also notice that somehow the arrows that were previously raining down from the top of the hill have inexplicably halted, and you have a clear path forward. 

You spot Lae’zel, who is battling a bleeding one-armed bugbear and a snarling bare-faced wolf. The wolf lunges for her, and she’s forced to dodge backward toward the bugbear who uses his one remaining hand to slam his metal club into the back of her head. She blinks dazedly and sways on her feet for a moment.

The wolf leans back on its haunches and prepares to lunge for her throat.

You won’t reach her in time. 

You sprint for the creature anyway, fear for your companion fueling you, when an arrow sinks into the wolf's side. It yelps and frantically gnaws at the arrow, attacking the source of its terrible pain, ripping its own flesh in its panic. It provides just enough of a distraction for you to change course and leap onto the back of the bugbear, burying your knife in its throat. It gurgles for a second, choking on blood, and drops to the ground at Lae’zel’s feet. She turns with a shout and beheads the yelping wolf in one swift strike. 

Panting, she turns to you. One of her pupils is blown wide, the other just a slit.

“I didn’t ask for your assistance” She growls.

“You’re welcome” You reply, which earns you an unfocused bleary-eyed glare from the concussed Githyanki.

An agonized scream pierces through the clang of weapons and the crackling fire. You turn just in time to see a human archer a few yards away staring down with horrified eyes at the grinning goblin who’s scimitar is buried in her stomach.

Fuck.

You change directions and lunge for the girl, hurling a firebolt at the goblin’s head in the process. It screeches, dropping the scimitar to swipe at the flames engulfing it's pointed face. Vertigo almost takes you to the ground, but you manage to clumsily catch the girl as she drops to her knees, her skin pale and clammy.

She babbles frantically as you lower her slowly to the ground.

“I can’t- please I’m only t-twenty I d-don’t wanna die” 

Her hands are slick with her own blood and they clutch at your shirt as you assess the damage. The only healing spell you know is lesser restoration, and while that may buy her a few seconds of relief from the blood loss, the wound is still open. Even if you did know a healing spell powerful enough to save her, you couldn’t cast it in the state that you're in. You can do nothing to solve the issue of the blade protruding from her belly. 

You apply pressure to the wound. There are only a few goblins left alive, the battle will soon be over, but every second the fight drags on feels like an hour as you hold this girl together with your bare hands.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” You try to assure her, your voice shaky.

She swallows dryly and shakes her head.

“It doesn’t”

That can’t be good.

“That’s good. A healer is on their way. You’re going to be al-”

Before the last word can leave your lips something launches into your side, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. Your vision doubles and a formless black blob sways above you. You blink a few times and your eyes clear. The goblin you lit on fire smiles at you as best it can with the skin of its face crisped black and melting off. Your eyes shift sluggishly to the dagger raised above its head, just in time to watch it fall. You hear the wet squelch of the dagger ripping through the flesh of your shoulder. 

It doesn’t hurt at first, it almost feels as though your arm has fallen asleep. A riot of pins and needles shoots down all the way to your fingertips and back up again. Then comes the explosion of pain so intense your body jerks under the goblin that still sits on top of you. It cackles as you tense in a silent scream, twisting the blade until your vision darkens around the edges.

It happens so suddenly you almost miss it. One moment the goblin is twisting the blade and laughing, the next it’s gurgling and choking on the arrow protruding from its throat. You reach up with your uninjured arm and yank the arrow free of the creature’s neck, watching the life fade from its yellow eyes as it pitches to the side and slides off you, leaving the dagger buried in your shoulder.

Your gaze snaps up to the top of the hill, where you see Astarion, his bow raised, eyes trained on the dead goblin that fell to your side. At his feet, two more goblins lie dead with their throats slit, their bows still clutched in their hands. 

That’s the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

~

You fall through an endless black void. The wind rushing past your ears and whispering over your skin is the only indication you’re moving at all. The darkness is so potent you genuinely can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed.

You spread your limbs out as far as you can, hoping to feel something, anything, but you’re falling through open air.

Oh. You’re closer than I thought you were. I wasn’t expecting you so early.

A voice that is not your own bounces around inside your skull. 

There’s a blinding flash of light, your eyes were open after all, and reality shifts. You don’t land but suddenly you aren’t falling either, you’re standing on a rocky island floating in an endless purple sky. In your cursory glance you find a shadowy figure sitting on the edge of the island, legs kicking over the vacuum of empty space below them.

You freeze, unsure where you are or how you got there.

“Come,” Says the same voice you heard in your head moments ago, “Sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

The voice is soothing, gentle, and you take a step forward.

~

With a crack you're suddenly yanked from the dream world and back into your body. You find yourself still sprawled on your back on the battlefield. There’s a sharp burning sensation in your cheek, and a shadow leaning over you, haloed in sunshine. It looks almost like…

“Astarion?”

The shadow sighs in relief.

“Yes! Thank the gods. This would have been really awkward to explain if you had amnesia.”

“I-” you reach up to rub your stinging cheek and groan when pain lances down your arm. You can’t move it.

“Did you slap me?”

You feel yourself fading away again, consciousness slipping out of your grasp.

The shadow that is actually a rather blurry vampire nods solemnly.

“I did. I’m about to do it again.”

“S’not nice.” You mumble.

“Tav, if you can stay awake for a moment longer I can get us out of here. I need you to look into my eyes. Can you do that for me?”

You aren’t entirely sure, your eyelids are so heavy, but you do try. Slowly, you manage to pry them open enough to meet Astarions eyes. Once your gazes collide, you wonder why you ever thought it was hard to keep your eyes open at all. It would pain you to look away now. His eyes are such a hypnotic shade of red. You think it might be your new favorite color.

“That's it Tav.” His voice is low- enticing. It satisfies something deep within you, and you find yourself holding your breath, hanging onto every word. 

“You aren’t going to sleep anymore. You’re going to stand with me and walk through the gate.”

You’re nodding before he’s even finished speaking.

Vaguely, you know what this is. Vampires, and apparently vampiric spawn, have the ability to compel creatures. Some are better at it than others, and some creatures are harder to compel than others, but you make it easy. You don’t even try to resist, knowing this compulsion might just save your life.

That is until you accept Astarion’s lended hand and stand, looking down to see the glassy, lifeless eyes of the human girl you were trying to save before the goblin stabbed you.

Her arm is stretched toward you, a look of despair frozen on her face, as if she reached out to you in her final moment.

You reach for her, praying to anyone that will listen that she’s not actually dead, when Astarion catches you with an arm around your waist.

“There’s nothing more that you can do for her. Walk.”

Your resolve is weaker than it’s ever been, and the compulsion takes you completely. Your legs move on their own accord. Astarion keeps an arm around your waist and pulls your good arm over his shoulder, bearing the brunt of your weight as you make slow progress toward the gate that everyone is fleeing for. You see Gale and one of the tieflings carrying an unconscious Lae’zel on fabric stretched between two long branches. They place her on the ground just inside the entrance and rush to find a healer.

You stumble inside after them. Every heartbeat triggers a fiery explosion of pain that leaves you gasping. Astarion half-drags you to a wooden stump and sets you down on top of it, his compulsion fading along with the rest of your energy. He crouches in front of you and inspects your shoulder, tsking softly.

“Go'head” You say, your words somewhat slurring together.

His expression turns wary as he motions something over your shoulder.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.”

“Say it.” 

He shakes his head in confusion, and you try again, pushing the words out through shallow huffs of air.

“Say ‘I told you so’” 

“Ah” he smiles “As much as I would love to, it’s beneath me to kick a lady while she’s down”

“I’ll show you who’s down.” You attempt to threaten, but when you lean forward a wave of nausea hits you, and you double over, pressing the hand you can move to your mouth as if you can push back the rising bile.

Astarion positions you back upright with a hand on your good shoulder, something resembling concern in his voice as he calls for a healer. It’s becoming very hard to breathe.

You hear someone rush to his side, but you don’t even have enough energy to turn your head to see who it is. 

“Is she ready?” The stranger asks.

“She’ll have to be. She’s losing a lot of blood. I can hear how hard her heart is beating to pump what little she has left.”

He taps your face as you begin to nod off and you open your eyes, unsure of when you closed them.

“This is going to hurt.” Is Astarion’s only warning before he rips the dagger out of your shoulder.

You open your mouth to scream, but someone presses a large bottle full of thick red liquid to your lips and you drink instead, desperate for the relief a health potion will provide. You grimace both at the metallic taste of the potion and at the itchy sensation of your muscles knitting themselves back together. The wound closes and the pain subsides, but your shoulder still tingles savagely with pins and needles.

Some of your energy returns to you, and you glance up at the stranger that gave you the potion. The dwarven druid returns your nod of thanks with one of her own before turning her attention to an unconscious Lae’zel, who you notice was moved to a cot sometime between when you stumbled through the gate and now. You peel your bloodstained shirt off your shoulder and see for the first time the angry red scar that remains despite the magic of the healing tonic. You cringe and pull your shirt back over it. 

When you look over at Astarion, he is staring at the bloody dagger he pulled from your shoulder with an intensity that unnerves you.

“Astarion?” 

He startles as he’s pulled out of his thoughts and drops the dagger on the ground at your feet. He bares his teeth in an expression you think was meant to be a smile, but doesn’t quite make it past a grimace. He stands fluidly, and you scan him from head to toe for injuries. He doesn’t seem to have a scratch on him. 

Relief and annoyance battle it out in your head as you follow suit, standing on shaky legs.

“Thank-”

He turns and glares so angrily you shut your mouth with an audible click.

“I don’t want your thanks. We had a deal, Hero, all I did was hold up my end.”

You remember the deal you made with the vampire.

You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.

Interesting.

“I don’t think I like that nickname” You frown.

“Oh? I can think of a few more you might like better.” He winks, and your eyes widen in genuine fear as you imagine what he could possibly mean by that.

“No no, hero is good- great even.”

Astarion chuckles in sadistic delight and ushers you further inside the grove toward Gale, who you see also looks mostly unharmed other than a gash above his eyebrow. Upon closer inspection however, you see the same bone deep fatigue you feel mirrored in his eyes. Magic takes energy to cast, and the toll exacted on a caster for pushing their limits is merciless.

“Glad to see you’re okay Tav,” He says by way of greeting. He gestures at the older tiefling man he was speaking to when you approached.

“This is Zevlor. He’s offered to allow us to make camp inside the walls of the grove until we recover from the battle.”

The tiefling nods and places a hand over his heart bowing his head at you and Astarion. In your current state, drained of magic as you are, the tadpole seems to have more control than it did before. Your mind is drawn to Astarion’s like metal to a magnet, and when the connection clicks into place, you feel his awkward uncomfortability with Zevlor’s gesture. It seems Astarion is inept at accepting thanks from everyone, not just you. 

“I cannot thank you enough for your assistance out there.” Zevlor begins, “There surely would have been many more casualties if you had not done what you did. Your friend Gale of Waterdeep-”

A pulse of sadistic amusement bridges the gap between yours and Astarion’s mind and you watch his mouth twitch as he suppresses a smile. Gale’s lips press together in thinly veiled annoyance. Zevlor continues on, completely oblivious, “-tells me you’ve been searching for a healer. Our main healer left with the scouting party you saved today and hasn’t returned, but his apprentice Nettie is more than capable of healing most ailments. I’m sure she’d be happy to counsel you in the morning once all the wounded have been tended to. We’ll point your Gith friend your way once she wakes up.”

You nod gratefully and Zevlor is called to help someone else before anything more can be said. The link between your mind and Astarion’s buzzes with energy and he turns to you with a horrified expression as he’s suddenly bombarded by everything you’re feeling. 

“How are you standing up right now?”

“I have no idea. I can’t feel my legs.”

Gale flashes you an alarmed look. He notices your shaking limbs and holds out an arm. You consider his offered help for a moment before shaking your head. You don't want to be a burden to this man you've just met. You'll be fine as long as you can sit down sometime in the very near future. Gale drops his arm but not his concerned expression.

“A healer I am not, but I don’t imagine trembling with every step is a sign of anything good.” He warns

You wave off his concern with a weak smile and continue walking. Astarion and Gale follow, a little too close for your liking, as if they're waiting for your inevitable fall.

Astarion responds to Gale's warning for you.

“If I didn’t pity whoever's waiting for you back home before, Gale of Waterdeep, I do now.”

Gale’s face scrunches in annoyed confusion.

“I don’t have a partner... anymore.”

“I bet I know why.”

"You most definitely do not."

“Would you two shut up for a second?” You hiss.

You're passing a merchant’s table littered with armor, camp supplies, magical artifacts, dyes, and weapons. A crossbow catches your eye, and you remember earlier on the battlefield wishing you had a bow that you knew how to shoot. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had more than a puny knife to fight with. You stop in front of the table. Astarion and Gale nearly crash into the back of you.

“How much?”

You ask the dwarven merchant digging for something in a box behind the table, pointing at the crossbow.

Astarion raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.

The dwarf’s head snaps up and his eyes widen as he takes in your blood-soaked ragged appearance. He sees the pale elf and the human wizard behind you and something clicks.

“I know you. The other druids won’t shut up about you. You saved the grove.” He says with a certain measure of awe.

“Tell ya what. I need to get rid of most of this stuff before the grove gets sealed shut in a few days, and we do kind of owe you our lives. Take whatever you want. On me.”

You feel guilty accepting gifts from this kind stranger, but you are in desperate need of camp supplies. Astarion doesn’t seem to share your hang-up. He begins grabbing things to stuff in his pack. Another dagger, two small hand-held crossbows, Black armor of some sort. Gale peruses the magical scrolls lined up on the other side of the table. You take the crossbow you originally asked about, intending to take it and it alone, when an amulet catches your eye. A simple black metal chain holding a small silver medallion. Ferre procul is engraved neatly along with a rune you vaguely recognize on the pendant. Upon closer inspection you realize it’s emitting a faint silver light. You think it's a magic storing item, one that would grant its wearer the ability to cast misty step. You pocket the amulet, and thank the merchant profusely before you follow Astarion and Gale toward your new camp. You nearly weep with joy at the sight of a fire already made, and the bedrolls laid out around it. You don’t even spare a glance at your companions. You toss your bag to the ground and collapse onto the nearest bedroll. Sleep claims you before your head hits the pillow.

----

Tag tiiiiiime.

This list is getting long 0-0

@aoirohi

@tamwritesstuff

@smaranshakthi

@perseny

@stronglycoffeescented-blog

@hadesbabygurl

@y2cade

@screechingphantommaker

@whoopsitsloobis

@coratatum

@rando-no-5

@usuallyunlikelyfox

@kamartsu

@yaimlight

@h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333

@vulgarfuckinvirgo77

@ellie1725

@skittleabyss

@nari1837

@bitchyzombienacho

@otayz

@yggiboo

@alexandritgreylock

@grimissleepy

@raygunny

@thedevilssinner

@mythoughtsofinsanity

@olitheghost

Okay I think that's it. Lemme know if I missed ya.

[nifolution]

I Quit 3

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 2 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been a few days since the Thrombey family dinner. Y/N welcomed the return to her mostly quiet routine. Grateful that those nights didn't usually happen more than once a month. The whole family seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and only interested in their own image. Hiding their misery behind luxury and fake smiles. How Harlan spawned such a bunch, she'd never know.

Y/N was sitting at the kitchen island, enjoying her drive-thru lunch. Because let's face it, she cooked for a living, and sometimes the greasy fast food hit the spot. An added bonus that it involved no work on her part. It's like they say, food tastes better when prepared by someone else. She found that all the more true on days she felt exhausted or moody. 

She nearly choked on her cheeseburger when an unknown figure appeared in her peripheral vision. The man strode past her without a glance, straight into the pantry. The sound of drawers opening and slamming shut seemed extra loud as the stranger rummaged around. An angry voice rang out, “Who moved the damn cookies?”

Who does this guy think he is destroying my kitchen?

Y/N firmly answered, “I did.”

The kitchen invader stepped out, seemingly surprised to see an unfamiliar face staring daggers at him. Although the apron clued him into her position here. “Where's the old broad?”

“I assume you mean my predecessor, she's retired. I'm Y/N. I’ve been working here for a few weeks now.” She pointed her chin behind the man, “The cookies are on the bottom left.”

Instead of returning to the pantry, he moved closer to her, “Y/N, that's a lovely name.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “I'll be sure to tell my mom you approve.” She recognized him now from the family portrait hanging in the parlor. “I assume you're Hugh.”

His face lit up, “Smart girl.” His eyes scanned her from head to foot, openly ogling her. “A pretty girl like you can call me Ransom, though.”

This time her eyes rolled without her permission. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

Ransom didn't answer. Instead he leaned over the island, snatching a french fry. He made a show of slowly bringing it to his mouth and eating it, daring her to say something. She wanted to slap it out of his greedy hand. Or maybe shove the whole lot down his throat. She wasn’t sure.

“Well, it's been fun, but I have to see my grandfather. I have an important matter to discuss with him.” He sucked the salt from his fingers. “Maybe I'll swing back after so we can chat. Get to know one another better.” He winked at her, walking out with a swagger and a smile.

What an ass.

Was he cute, absolutely. But Y/N was all too familiar with narcissistic jerkwads like him. Her school was full of them. She refused to let him get to her.

Fran had told her Ransom liked to show up whenever he felt like it, stir the pot, then slink off into the darkness after he had his fun. His family took the bait every time, so he delighted in causing them any amount of misery or aggravation he could. She also mentioned how he and his grandfather seemed to thrive in having a go at one another. Pissing the other off was their favorite pastime, but they loved each other dearly. The relationships in this family were beyond dysfunctional.

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

A few hours later, Ransom made his way back into the kitchen, intent on seducing Harlan's new chef. The old man put up a fight, but eventually caved in to his demands. He always did eventually. Too kind to let his first grandkid suffer through life and legal battles alone and without a new car. A few choice words, a few rounds of Go and he was putty in his hands. 

Now it was time to get something else he wanted. He paused, leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing the young chef while she chopped vegetables. She looked so innocent, so unbothered. Poor thing didn't know what she was in for.

It was quite sexy watching her work. Smiling to himself, Ransom closed in on her, wanting a better look. The shk shk shk of the blade hitting the cutting board didn't falter. It was a bit hypnotic, her expert hands made it look so easy. He wondered what else she could do with those hands. Promising himself he’d find out.

“You'd look better with your hair down.”

Y/N didn't bother looking up at the attractive nuisance. He was so close that whatever expensive cologne he wore filled her nostrils, distracting her. “That's not a good idea while I'm cooking.”

“So grouchy,” Ransom pouted. “You should be nice, smile more. I'm sure you have a beautiful smile.” She turned her head to glare at him. That was not the reaction he wanted. What would it take to get her to play? “You realize one word from me and my grandfather will fire you?”

“Do YOU realize I'm holding a big ass knife?” She waved the blade for emphasis. 

Ransom held his hands up in surrender, backing away dramatically. “Take it easy there, Killer. I was just being friendly. It wouldn't hurt ya to do the same. You might actually enjoy it.” The shit eating grin remained plastered on his face as he exited.

No, but it very well might kill you, asshole. Not wanting to lose her position, Y/N smartly chose to not speak that part out loud. Just in case.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released upon hearing the front door slam. He was gone. She got back to the task at hand, but would be lying if she said her mind didn’t start to wander.

Damn he smelled good.

Chapter 4

[jaimebrienneonline]

Fun with Fics

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

(I got this twice in my inbox, so here goes.)

1. The Wine Is Not Enough

Sam leaned forward and offered Dany some unsolicited wisdom, “Never, ever wear open-toed sandals in a Port-o-Walder.”

2. The Seduction

Jaime lunged forward and pressed his mouth to hers in a sloppy, wet kiss. He pulled back and began kicking off his shoes. "Fine. See. You've won. I yield. You can have your way with me."

3. Vows

He shifted on the bed to lean back against the pillows, angling himself to her. “I left you unprotected in the North. Did that Wildling try to steal you? Did you let him?” His eyes glittered with something she didn’t understand. “Is that why you’re trying to refuse me?”

“No one stole me. Why would anyone even try? I’m not a possession to be stolen,” she huffed.

4. Age Gap

“Seriously though, Tyrion, what’s the point in having a sexy young girlfriend if I can’t have her hold up restaurant menus to prove I can read them from a distance?”

5. The Right Time

He rose from his seat and turned around, facing the bear-like man. With a deliberate swipe of his stump, he knocked the unopened cup to the floor before leaning his perfect muscular backside against the edge of her desk. His voice was like shards of ice as he spoke to the investigator. “Brienne already has plans for lunch. With me.” He then stood straight and took a step closer to the other man. “She has plans today. Tomorrow. Every lunch. Every day. Every dinner, too.”

6. Life's Sweetest Reward

Brienne shoveled a bite of eggs in her mouth and swallowed before answering. “Shuffleboard tournament.” After watching the other couples at parasailing yesterday, she thought she and Jaime were probably the most athletic ‘couple’ on board. “If Jaime manages to get up in time, we’ll likely win.”

Howland drew back from her and his previous affable expression turned into something much harder. Jyana touched his hand, a look of alarm on her face.

“Jya and I have been on ninety-seven cruises. We compete in the shuffleboard tournament every single time.” He leaned in then, his voice dark and low, “And we always win.”

7. The Kingslayer's Speech

No matter how she argued that the first kiss had been an accident, (did you trip and fall into my lips, wench?), he had insisted that he was entitled to a kiss with every goodbye now. It was his due, he said. Just to shut him up, she’d smacked her lips against his and sent him on his way.

8. The Singular Discomfort of Jaime Lannister

He hadn’t thought it possible to be this hard and not explode. “Are you,” he paused, needing to catch his breath, “are you asking me to tell you about the hot, dirty things I want to do to you?”

9. Everyone Has a Price

Aunt Myranda (wife of Stafford, mother of Daven, Cerenna and Myrielle), passed around tequila shots while discussing the benefits of erectile dysfunction medication, but the drawbacks of four-hour erections.

10. Words in the Dark Night

“Or I could warm it on your teats, what little you have, wench. Or perhaps under the sweet curve of your ass.”

Sam watched as the Maid’s gloved hand gripped the hilt of Oathkeeper. He wondered if Ser Jaime planned to die tonight.

----

Okay..this was a lot of fun. Thank you. I haven't double checked all the links, but you can find all my fics by just clicking one and then my user name. I can't always connect writers to tumblrs, so I'm going with the first few I remember. @ddagent @writergirl2011 @seaspiritwrites @glamaphonic @isolacaramella @quizzicalquinnia @ladym-rules @wackygoofball @wildlingoftarth @bussdowntarthiana

[hello-nichya-here]

Why did Zuko feel compassion towards victims of war (Song, that couple's unborn baby) but Azula hasn't? Because she didn't have her own "Iroh" or because she wasn't as much exposed to the other environment?

Before we even discuss Azula, let's remember that despite Zuko's compassion towards others being very real, we cannot forget a few important aspects of these moments of pre-redemption kindness.

After bonding with Song, who had just helped him and his uncle, he stole her ostrige-horse (which Iroh went along with, though showing much more remorse than Zuko - aka any remorse at all).

Even though he didn't steal from that couple because he saw that the woman was pregnant, he still said "the people should be giving stuff to us" because that's what he was used to as a prince adn robbed plenty of people in the Earth Kingdom, taking both food and money, but also stuff he absolutely did not need to survive - to the point that Iroh tried to make him see that this was wrong, to which Zuko said that they would no longer gain anything by travelling together, as a very clear "I'll do whatever I think I should/am entitled to do."

And, of course, even though Zuko DID eventually feel compassion for all of Earth Kingdom in general (we see proof of it when turns his back on his father and joins the Gaang) we cannot forget that, even after that, he did go back to the very nation that was oppressing and killing them, even when Iroh had made it very clear "It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good" clearly meaning "It's time to leave your old life behind and help stop your father", and only left when he was forced to think of the consequences of his actions as Ozai planned to burn everything to the ground, and Zuko was disgusted at himself for not speaking out against it.

These are important things to keep in mind because they show us that:

1 - Even when one is removed from the environment they grew up in, it still affects their world-view in the long term (Zuko had been banished for three years after all).

2 - Selective compassion is a thing, and it can be a result of "desperate times, desperate measures" (see Iroh stealing the ostrige-horse even he clearly didn't want to do that), of literal indoctrination and pleasant lies to excuse your bad actions (see Sozin starting the war to "share the Fire Nation's great way of life with others", regardless of them wanting it or not), of the classic "This thing I'm doing WOULD be bad in normal circumstances, but it's totally okay right now because it's a war and they are not on my side" justification, and of just thinking your life is way more important than anyone else's so screwing them over without necessity is fine.

3 - Changing one's whole mentality is a long, difficult process, in which is very common for the person to constantly take one step forwards then two steps back for quite some time before fully moving on.

4 - Having a mentor/support system is nice, but at the end of the day people make their own choices, and it doesn't matter if you tell them (gently or sternly) "You're making a huge mistake" because if they don't see it that way, there's nothing you can do to force them to understand where you're coming from.

Now, let's finally discuss Azula. Much like Zuko, she was raised in a deeply dysfunctional family that gave her all the wrong lessons about how relationships are supposed to work, AND said family was also royalty of an imperialist nation that had normalized war and genocide nearly a whole century before she was born. And unlike Zuko, she did not have someone to even try to guide her towards the right path.

To make matters worse, she's also "Ozai's right hand" and his favorite child for most of the show - which in this context means she's the child soldier that has been brainwashed the most AND the kid that is the least likely to recognize she's being taken advantage of because every unfair thing Ozai demans of her (and that often has very serious consequences for others) is framed as her duty both as his daughter and heir, and as a potential way to gain some of the love and validation the bastard is well aware his children crave.

EVEN WORSE, all the stress Azula was put under psychologically destroyed her - and has made her paranoid. Meaning that even if someone were to try and step up to help her now, she would be convinced that they are either secretly ploting to harm her, or at the very least that they are trying to fool her because they need something from her.

For Azula to ever be able to see the error of her ways, she'd need:

1 - To recover from her breakdown and have a support system of people she trusts.

2 - These people would need to push her to see that the war hurt her, the people she loves, the people of the Fire Nation, and the people of the other nations (yes, in that order). They'd also need to be ready to deal with her taking one step forward, two steps back, just like Zuko did, because as I've already explained this is a long, complicated process.

3 - Recovered and willing to admit that the war was a terrible thing that never should have happened, she'd spend sometime with amongst some of the people it affected the most (that can mean anything from "lots of conversations with Aang and the rest of the group when they visit Zuko" all the way to "life-changing field trip with Zuzu to help rebuild the Earth Kingdom/Air Temples/Water Tribe(s), it really just depends on what you'd like to see in a story)

[niffala]

I Quit (Pt. 3)

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom

A/N: Reader insert version found here. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 2   Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been a few days since the Thrombey family dinner. Elizabeth welcomed the return to her mostly quiet routine. Grateful that those nights didn't usually happen more than once a month. The whole family seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and only interested in their own image. Hiding their misery behind luxury and fake smiles. How Harlan spawned such a bunch, she'd never know.

Elizabeth was sitting at the kitchen island, enjoying her drive-thru lunch. Because let's face it, she cooked for a living, and sometimes the greasy fast food hit the spot. An added bonus that it involved no work on her part. It's like they say, food tastes better when prepared by someone else. She found that all the more true on days she felt exhausted or moody. 

She nearly choked on her cheeseburger when an unknown figure appeared in her peripheral vision. The man strode past her without a glance, straight into the pantry. The sound of drawers opening and slamming shut seemed extra loud as the stranger rummaged around. An angry voice rang out, “Who moved the damn cookies?”

Who does this guy think he is destroying my kitchen?

Elizabeth firmly answered, “I did.”

The kitchen invader stepped out, seemingly surprised to see an unfamiliar face staring daggers at him. Although the apron clued him into her position here. “Where's the old broad?”

“I assume you mean my predecessor, she's retired. I'm Elizabeth. I’ve been working here for a few weeks now.” She pointed her chin behind the man, “The cookies are on the bottom left.”

Instead of returning to the pantry, he moved closer to her, “Elizabeth, that's a lovely name.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “I'll be sure to tell my mom you approve.” She recognized him now from the family portrait hanging in the parlor. “I assume you're Hugh.”

His face lit up, “Smart girl.” His eyes scanned her from head to foot, openly ogling her. “A pretty girl like you can call me Ransom, though.”

This time her eyes rolled without her permission. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

Ransom didn't answer. Instead he leaned over the island, snatching a french fry. He made a show of slowly bringing it to his mouth and eating it, daring her to say something. She wanted to slap it out of his greedy hand. Or maybe shove the whole lot down his throat. She wasn’t sure.

“Well, it's been fun, but I have to see my grandfather. I have an important matter to discuss with him.” He sucked the salt from his fingers. “Maybe I'll swing back after so we can chat. Get to know one another better.” He winked at her, walking out with a swagger and a smile.

What an ass.

Was he cute, absolutely. But Elizabeth was all too familiar with narcissistic jerkwads like him. Her school was full of them. She refused to let him get to her.

Fran had told her Ransom liked to show up whenever he felt like it, stir the pot, then slink off into the darkness after he had his fun. His family took the bait every time, so he delighted in causing them any amount of misery or aggravation he could. She also mentioned how he and his grandfather seemed to thrive in having a go at one another. Pissing the other off was their favorite pastime, but they loved each other dearly. The relationships in this family were beyond dysfunctional.

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

A few hours later, Ransom made his way back into the kitchen, intent on seducing Harlan's new chef. The old man put up a fight, but eventually caved in to his demands. He always did eventually. Too kind to let his first grandkid suffer through life and legal battles alone and without a new car. A few choice words, a few rounds of Go and he was putty in his hands. 

Now it was time to get something else he wanted. He paused, leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing the young chef while she chopped vegetables. She looked so innocent, so unbothered. Poor thing didn't know what she was in for.

It was quite sexy watching her work. Smiling to himself, Ransom closed in on her, wanting a better look. The shk shk shk of the blade hitting the cutting board didn't falter. It was a bit hypnotic, her expert hands made it look so easy. He wondered what else she could do with those hands. Promising himself he’d find out.

“You'd look better with your hair down.”

Elizabeth didn't bother looking up at the attractive nuisance. He was so close that whatever expensive cologne he wore filled her nostrils, distracting her. “That's not a good idea while I'm cooking.”

“So grouchy,” Ransom pouted. “You should be nice, smile more. I'm sure you have a beautiful smile.” She turned her head to glare at him. That was not the reaction he wanted. What would it take to get her to play? “You realize one word from me and my grandfather will fire you?”

“Do YOU realize I'm holding a big ass knife?” She waved the blade for emphasis. 

Ransom held his hands up in surrender, backing away dramatically. “Take it easy there, Killer. I was just being friendly. It wouldn't hurt ya to do the same. You might actually enjoy it.” The shit eating grin remained plastered on his face as he exited.

No, but it very well might kill you, asshole. Not wanting to lose her position, Elizabeth smartly chose to not speak that part out loud. Just in case.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released upon hearing the front door slam. He was gone. She got back to the task at hand, but would be lying if she said her mind didn’t start to wander.

Damn he smelled good.

Chapter 4

[theweirdwideweb]

I'm feeling so sad about this whole thing and I don't have anyone to talk to so I guess it's you, internet.

This evaluation was horrific. First they had me lay on my side and they stuck sensors on either side of my butthole. They inserted a catheter and told me to squeeze, relax, and then push like I was trying to poop. This process repeated 6 times, each time pulling it out 1 centimeter to get different readings. I didn't have a correct understanding of the balloon test going in. What they actually did is start inflating the balloon and I had to tell them 1) when I could first feel it, 2) when it felt like I had to poop, and 3) when it felt like an emergency run-for-the-bathroom type poop. Okay so that's all bad enough. Next they take me to a room with a big scanning machine. I lay down on my side and they used a syringe to fill up my ass and pussy with a viscous barium solution intended to mimic the texture of feces. I'm laying on my side on the horizontal bed, then the whole bed starts going vertical I have to let myself slide onto a "toilet" they set up underneath me. I don't know if I'm describing this well enough but the entire table is now vertical and I'm sitting on a toilet seat over a bucket with the table to my right and the scanner to my left. They tell me to try and poop it out so I'm pooping this white barium solution in front of these doctors until I say I can't get anything else out. They have my step off the machine, NO WIPING, and sit on another toilet they have set up which is just a toilet seat sitting over a mirror. I had to push like I was pooping with this doctor looking in the mirror at my asshole.

Finally they gave me some babywipes and a pad and I could put my clothes back on. Went into the next room to hear my results. So. I have pelvic floor dysfunction.

My puborectalis muscle, shown here, is frozen tight. My asshole is extremely good at clamping shut, normal at relaxing, but when I try to evacuate it causes my sphincter to clench. I think I'm trying to open my butthole, but it' s closing tighter instead. That's why I can only pass very very soft stool unaided. Sometimes I've noticed that it comes out looking skinny like noodles and I guess that's why. Not only that, but it's cause my rectum to prolapse internally. Here's an example marked "R".

This is why I've had to use a thumb up the puss to manually evacuate, because I have a prolapsed rectum. I have to get physical therapy to unfreeze my puborectalis muscle, god knows how, and then I need surgery to fix the prolapse.

I'm just so depressed. It's not like I need any more proof that I have complex PTSD, but it's genuinely shocking to see it manifest this way inside my body. My poor abused body. I've been walking around with this muscle malfunctioning, not being able to use the bathroom, damaging my internal organs, for 25 years. I searched it on the C-PTSD board and other people say the physical therapy is triggering but has changed so much about their bodies---how they walk, how they experience sex. I just feel like giving up. I'm so so so so broken. My brain is broken, my body is broken. I'm turning 37 in 2 weeks. My youth has passed me by while I was busy being a drug addict, alcoholic, traumatized, hurting, angry, and wound up so tight inside. I know this isn't a rational thought but I keep thinking, What's even the point of trying to fix myself now? My life is halfway over already and the 2nd half isn't the point. I'm single, significantly mentally ill, fat and misshapen, I have a prolapsed rectum from being sexually abused, I have body dysmorphia and I'm scared of men. No one has ever been in love with me and no one ever will. It's the one thing I want and it's like there's this thousand foot tall steel barrier of sickness keeping me out. All I want is for someone to hold me and care about me and to stay. What's the point of anything without that? I'll be okay I just needed to express this.

So I haven't been able to poop normal for about ~25 years. Chronic constipation since Y2K, can you imagine it? I had to get an appendectomy at 15 for impacted stool! Years went by and I've always just dealt with it taking laxatives, enemas, suppositories, or honestly been so disconnected from my body that I just let it go. I'm talking when I'm not taking laxatives I poop maybe once a week and it's terrible. Miserable all the time. I had a colonoscopy last month, then a followup with a GI specialist. We talked about what's wrong with my butt and settled on pelvic floor dysfunction. Essentially my muscles are weak down there and my butthole can't open all the way. I've got to stick a thumb up my puss to help evacuate manually (I literally have no idea how males deal with this issue). Tomorrow I'm going in for my official pelvic floor examination. They're going to stick a catheter up my asshole, inflate a balloon, and see if I can poop it out. I'm depressed though because guess what? In my case it's 99% probability that this dysfunction was caused by abuse. I got molested so hard as a kid that I haven't been able to poop since 9/11. I make jokes ya know, hee hee haw haw 9/11, etc, but that's actually so fucked up. I honestly don't think I will be able to poop this balloon. I think they're going to have to extract it manually.

[messrsbyler]

Today I'm here to talk about how from season one we are shown how Mike was forced to grow up and mature at a very young age given the dysfunctional dynamics of his family, the neglect he was put through and how he's been left to fence for himself as if he was an adult.

There's many scenes where Mike's attitude and behaviors make a contrast from Dustin and Lucas, even though they are exposed to the same situations. For example, when Hopper questions them and Dustin and Lucas start bickering over whether Mirkwood is a reference from the Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit, Mike is sitting in the middle trying to convince Hopper they can help as well and that they should be out there to find Will. This isn't because Dustin or Lucas don't care about Will as much as Mike does, but immediately we see Mike taking over the role of leader of the group with a much serious approach to the situation.

Where this is even more evident is at the beginning of Episode 2 when the guys bring El to Mike's basement and interact with her. Here is how that goes down:

Mike: "Is there a number we can call? For your parents?

Dustin: "Where is your hair? Do you have cancer?!"

Lucas: "Did you run away?!"

Mike: "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Lucas: "Is that blood?" *reaches out to touch the blood*

Then Mike stops Lucas saying he's freaking El out. When things get complicated over what to do with El, Mike immediately comes up with a plan for the next day so they all stay out of trouble and can go out there the next night to go and find Will.

Now, keeping in mind that these are twelve years old we are talking about, Dustin and Lucas' reaction to El make sense with how a kid could react. A bit of curiosity, a bit of hesitance and awe, asking questions like of El has cancer because her hair is buzzed and trying to touch the blood on her clothes. Mike, however, takes the approach I would expect from an adult, immediately asking for a number to contact and if the strange girl he found in the woods is okay or in trouble. Instead of giving into his curiosity and awe like Dustin and Lucas, Mike pushes that away and gets to the point in order to help El and learn more about the situation so he can understand how he can solve it.

Then when El tries to take off her clothes we again see this contrast. Dustin and Lucas freak out and turn away, both probably embarrassed and weirded out that a girl just tried to take off her shirt in front of them. And honestly, it makes sense for Mike to feel the same way, but he still instead reaches out to El to kindly stop her and show her the bathroom where she can change. He steps up in the situation and takes control of it. Then when El tells her she doesn't want the door closed, Mike is quick to learn how to communicate with her in order to make her feel comfortable around him (like a protective figure would).

Once Dustin and Lucas leave his house, Mike shows El where she will sleep and they sit down to talk. Now, this is an interesting part of their dynamic because THIS is the first time since meeting El that Mike allows himself to behave like a kid just like Dustin and Lucas had been acting before. When Mike sees El's tattoo he drops trying to control the situation like an adult would and reaches to touch the tattoo because he is a kid and he's never seen another kid with a tattoo, it's something new that surprises him and he acts on that surprise. And then El pulls away and Mike is quick to apologize and pull back as well, and just like that he's back on seizing control of the situation and acting like the grown up between them.

The next day we see Mike also allowing himself to behave more his age around El, showing him around and making impressions for her with his toys, but El is mostly uninterested going around on her own and looking around the house. (This because, in my opinion, El from the first moment is more interested in a parental/protector type of relationship with Mike since she doesn't know what a friend is and doesn't know that type of relationship can even exist. Then El learns about what a friend is but by then Mike has been pushed into a romantic type of dynamic with El by Lucas and Nancy). And then El sees Will's picture and she reveals she knows Will and saw him, and Mike is back on being the leader, the one that makes the plans and doesn't allow himself to be surprised over small things or get distracted with toys and games when his best friend is missing.

So, yeah. Mike has always been in a rush to grow up, but during the first and second season I see it more being an unconscious process for him that comes from being neglected by his family. Then, by season three, Mike takes an active role in wanting to grow up fast and leave all the "childish" things behind in order to fill his role as El's boyfriend.

It's interesting to think how running out of time is Mike's thing in ST, and how that's linked to Mike rushing through life as if he had no seconds to waste because he is either after something or something is chasing him.

I see how El exacerbates these feelings in Mike, that also link to him wanting to pretend to be someone else that's worthy of being with El, from season one when Mike tries to lie to El about the wound on his chin because he doesn't want El to know he gets bullied at school, to Mike wearing that outfit at the airport that's a knockoff of real brands and that, we know, is not his style at all.

Now, of course I HAVE to link this to Byler. And, well, just thinking how Mike was forced to mature at a really young age, how he's pushed into thinking he should be embarrassed about the things he enjoys, about how he thinks he has to pretend to be someone he's not in order to get the "normal" everyone seems to want. And how then there's Will, the one person that tells Mike things don't have to be like that, that on this the rest of the world is wrong because yes, they can stay in Mike's basement and play games for the rest of their lives, they can keep on enjoying their favorite board game, they can make plans to retire at a young age and play Nintendo for a living. Will tries to tell Mike that it is okay if he wants those things, that it's nothing he should avoid or feel ashamed of, that they don't have to stop being kids because the world and the Upside Down keeps making them soldiers, fighting battles they should've never had to fight.

Because Will wants all of that, and Mike wants it too. But Mike knows he's not supposed to. He knows he should want something different, something like what the rest of the people want because otherwise he'll be different. And for now, it is Will the one that's okay with being different because Mike is there, and Mike makes Will feel like it's okay being different, that he shouldn't feel like a mistake at all. And I think Mike has put so much effort into not being different, that he hasn't stopped to think that maybe it could be good, until season four happens and the van scene happens.

There's a TON more of this I wanted to write about but this will do for now.

Anyhow, love Mike Wheeler and how disturbed he's on the inside.

[dominimoonbeam]

Scars That Remind - Part 2

More teen pack drama! I will be aging them up soooooon.

AU where Gabe basically adopts Darlin and they end up being like a sibling to David. 

Posted on ao3 as well as here!

tags: homelessness, pack family, dysfunctional darlin aka canon darlin, bullying, family dynamics, learning to trust.

Scars That Remind - Part 2

“You drove Darlin to school,” Milo notice allowed.

David grunted once in the affirmative and dumped some books into his locker. They went to an empowered high-school, one of the perks of growing up in Dahlia. He heard empowered people outside of big cities either had to homeschool or try to go to unempowered schools—which could easily get messy. Just the other day, Asher flirted with an electro until they accidentally fried the lights in the gym.

“You’ve driven them to school every day this week,” he added, not noticing when Asher stole the second half of his sandwich from his lunch.

“Mhm…” David finished his apple and looked up at the sky where a cloud was sliding in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the crowded quad and all the students eating lunch. Milo was a year younger than him and Asher, and a year older than Darlin. The week had been weird to say the least. Darlin was living in the guest room at his house, eating breakfast with them in the morning before going to school and then coming home with him. They pretty much hid in the guest room except for meal times, where they cleaned their plate and eyed the rest of the food but never took anything more than whatever his dad put on their plate—which was a lot.

“Didn’t they leave the pack? Why are they still in Dahlia?” Asher asked, mouth full of Milo’s sandwich. He asked the way only Asher could, without any offense or ill thought, only vaguely curious.

David shrugged but it was only a matter of time before they knew. Any day now, Asher usually went home with him on Fridays and slept over sometimes on the weekends. And plenty of the pack hung out at the house. It was actually kind of weird no one had noticed in the last few days. “They’re parents left the pack and Dahlia.” It was a fact. Not a secret.

Milo had been about to yell at Asher for stealing his sandwich when the words hit him. “Wait. You mean…Their parents left without them?”

David nodded once, still scrutinizing clouds.

“So…What, they’re living with you and Gabe?” Milo continued, voice pitching.

David felt Asher watching him. Asher could be flighty as fuck but he never missed a detail and he was often first to put them all together. He’d asked David about the bandages on his shoulder on Tuesday in the locker rooms before gym class.

The bell rang and Milo swore, grabbing his shit and hustling off to his class. Asher and David had their next period together and he waited until Milo was gone to ask, “You said someone bit you when I asked. You weren’t joking?”

David sighed and got up. He started walking, Asher falling into step beside him. “No.”

Asher smirked curiously. “Did Darlin bite you?”

David snorted. “No.” He sighed, glancing around to make sure they were alone, walking around the outside of the buildings toward gym. “Don’t say anything?”

Asher nodded once and David knew whatever he told him now, he’d take to the grave.

“They were sleeping in a park and this other wolf showed up. We got in a fight.”

Asher glanced at his shoulder again, like maybe he could see the wound through his t-shirt and hoodie. “That’s rough. I can’t imagine being alone like that.”

David sighed, nodding. Leave it to Asher to find the point and ignore everything else.

“Can I still come over after school tomorrow?”

David nodded again as they ducked into the locker rooms. “Yeah. Of course.”

A couple hours later he was sitting in his truck waiting for Darlin. Waiting too long. What the fuck? The parking lot was almost empty. Had Darlin finally made a run for it? Did they really think Gabe was bullshitting when he said he’d chase them down? It wouldn’t even take him that long to do it. His dad would probably have them back at the house before dinner.

David considered driving home without them and growled at himself for thinking it. Asshole. He got out of the truck, slamming the door and storming back into the school. Where was there last class? They always came from this direction…

“Do it!” he heard someone laugh-shout.

He followed the voices outside, to a spot between buildings where kids sometimes snuck out to smoke.

He heard the very clear sound of someone slapping someone just before he rounded the corner to see the group of younger students. Darlin’s age, and Darlin was the one with a growing handprint across their cheek—the one that was still bruised yellow and brown. The four other kids had them cornered. Still, Darlin should be able to knock these idiots out. He’d seen them fight.

“Shift! I wanna see it!” the air elemental shouted, shoving hard at Darlin’s chest to slam them back into the wall, using a little wind to give themself more force, that air rolling around between the buildings to kick up leaves.

Darlin grinned, lip bleeding onto teeth. “If I shifted you’d shit yourself and I don’t wanna smell it.”

One of the other kids moved fast, grabbing at Darlin’s arm. Darlin growled and tried to shake them off but there were too many hands and for some reason Darlin wasn’t throwing punches or shifting. Smoke rolled off their arm where the other kid was holding—a fire elemental.

David growled when he stepped forward, the sound loud enough that it started all of them. All eyes turned to him, growing bigger when they had to turn their heads upward. He bared teeth. “You want to see a wolf shift?”

The fire elemental stumbled into a second, both looking around for an exit but David was in the way now. The air elemental grew instantly teary, jabbing a finger at Darlin. “They threatened us!”

Darlin’s eyes widened at that. “What? No! Fuck you, I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you. I heard you,” David said, stalking closer. They all backed up—except for Darlin who just grabbed their bag up off the ground and rubbed at their arm, their sleeve burned. “You were using your powers on them—to cause pain. You know you could get expelled for that, right?” He took another step and they were backed into a brick wall. “You know they belong to the Shaw pack right?”

“But-But they’re always by themselves,” one cried, full tears now.

David growled and one of them screamed. “Pack is pack and if anything like this happens again, you will be enemies of the pack for life. Am I understood?”

They whined and nodded.

David sneered before turning on his heel and catching Darlin by the arm, pulling them along with him around the building and toward the parking lot. “What the fuck was that?” he asked when they were well out of earshot of those shits.

“What?”

“You were just going to stand there and take it?” He kept walking, only stopping when he got to the truck. He pulled them in front of him and then lifted their arm. He grabbed their hand and carefully lifted the sleeve to get a look. Red and welted but not a burn that would scar. “Why?” he demanded when they didn’t answer.

“I…If I did anything they would have told someone. You think anyone would believe me over them?” They jerked their arm back from his hold. “And I can’t get in trouble again. They’d try to call my parents and it’s not like that’s going to work. Then they’d call—” they stopped suddenly, jaw ticking when they snapped it shut.

David stared. “My dad.” They would call Darlin’s pack alpha if they couldn’t get ahold of their parents. “So?”

Darlin looked away.

David’s dad had been called by schools plenty of times. “What? You think he’d believe those assholes over you?”

“Would it matter? It would be a scene. I would have fucked up. Either way I didn’t handle it myself. The last thing I need right now is your dad regretting letting me stay.”

David actually took a step back. It was like this kid learned new ways to hit him. “No one is letting you stay,” he said clearly. “You belong with your pack.” Did they think his dad would kick them out for getting into a fight at school? They made it sound like they were a criminal granted mercy. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Darlin. You aren’t in trouble. Your parents just…” He tried and failed to understand what exactly Darlin’s parents had done or thought they’d been doing. “They left. But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Darlin stared back at him, eyes big with surprise, like they were actually trying to absorb everything he said. They swallowed hard and nodded once, looking away.

David sighed and opened the passenger door of his old truck. “Get in.”

Darlin did, slinging their backpack onto their lap. It was always just as heavy and full as it had looked Monday night when he found them in the park. He wasn’t sure if they’d actually left anything in their room at the house. He suspected they took everything they owned with them every day.

After that, Asher or David would find Darlin on their way to lunch and drag them along to sit with them.

 -

 Darlin made the bed in the guest room, grabbed their bag and headed out to the living room. Asher and David were in David’s room playing video games and Darlin had overheard something about Asher staying the night.

They planted themself on the couch, in the corner, and pulled a book from their bag, thumbing it open.

When Gabe came home they tensed but kept there eyes on the page. Why did they always want to run away when he showed up? He’d never been anything but nice. They knew that but it didn’t change the gut reaction.

He hung up his jacket and took another couple steps into the house, stopping and looking at Darlin on the couch.

A million thoughts flashed across their mind. Were they not supposed to sit out there? Darlin’s parents hadn’t had house rules, aside from staying out of their way and not touching any of their stuff. Did Gabe consider the couch his stuff? Fuck.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Darlin creased the cover of their paperback. “Yeah. Why?”

Gabe shrugged. Was he smirking? “Haven’t seen you come out of your cave all week.”

David and Asher laughed in his room down the hall, the sound carrying.

“Ash is spending the night, so I moved to the couch,” Darlin explained, suddenly worried they’d made the wrong move. Maybe they weren’t allowed to sleep out there?

Gabe took another step closer, shoulders eased back. “Asher sleeps in David’s room when he’s over. The other room is yours as long as you want to stay, Darlin. You don’t have to give it to anyone and you don’t have to share it with anyone.”

Darlin stared, surprised. He sounded so firm on that—like it was a real rule, like it was their own space and no one else’s. They got the feeling he wouldn’t go back on it either.

Gabe’s gaze flicked to their backpack for a second and then away. “If you want to leave stuff in there you can too. No one’s going to go in there and take anything.”

“I don’t have anything,” they said reflexively. They didn’t have anything anyone else wanted, anyway. It was just their junk. But they wanted to keep their junk. It was all they had.

Gabe was so calm—so different from how Darlin’s parents had been and even farther from how they’d said he would be. They’d been staying at his house all week and there hadn’t been any red flags, no signs that his invitation had been a trick or anything to suggest he’d done it for any reason other than…what? Loyalty? He said they were family like it meant something.

“You have things,” Gabe said clearly and Darlin felt heat in their face. “But I mean it, Darlin, your room is your own.” He smirked and turned toward the kitchen. “But you are always welcome to sit out here too.”

Darlin looked at their bag, considering grabbing it and bolting for the guest room…their room. Gabe was going to make dinner, so he’d be in the kitchen for a while. They chewed their lip and went back to reading on the couch.

Next week when they went to school, they didn’t take all of their junk. They left the clothes they weren’t wearing in the drawers and their toothbrush on the desk with some of their books and the rubbed duck they’d had since they were a kid on the bedside table. It was all right where they left it when they got back. Eventually the surprise of that wore away. Eventually they even thought of the room as their own, slammed the door when they were pissed at David, and told other teens from the pack to stay out with the full belief that they couldn’t come in.

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 9/?: Deal

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

“You followed us.”

Caleb looked up from the toolbox he was packing up for just a moment. “Huh?”

Hunter leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Last night. You followed us to the town.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He went back to packing up the toolbox, handing it to Hunter and then grabbing a ladder.

“Got there just in the nick of time?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I was following you for a while, but you were doing fine. Didn’t need to step in. Can you bring that outside for me?”

Hunter followed him out the door. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you let us go? If you were just going to follow us?”

“Why did you follow Cyrus?”

“Just in case.”

Caleb shrugged, sliding the ladder up to its full height and leaning it against the roof. “Same reason I followed you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. It was your first time out in a crowded area since I brought you here, and Silver isn’t exactly well known for their ability to think clearly when there’s a large crowd. I was actually about to leave before everyone started to shout about a wild witch.” He started the climb up the ladder.

“You were?”

“You seemed to be doing alright.” He chuckled. “Plus, I was a little worried you’d notice me tailing you and get upset. Hand that box up to me? Skip the second rung to the top, it’s rotten, I need to replace it. Next on the list.”

Hunter climbed up the ladder, handing up the toolbox and then coming up the rest of the way (skipping the rotted rung), sitting on the roof and watching him nail a loose shingle into place, carefully holding the nail between the forefinger and thumb of his maimed hand and wielding the hammer in the other. “So, it was a test? To see how well I could function out there? Did I pass?” he added, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What? Oh, Hunter, no, of course not. Of course it wasn’t a test, I mean, not of course you didn’t pass.” Caleb grinned, waving his hand in a so-so gesture. “If it had been a test, you would have gotten an okay grade on it, did great with blending in up until the point you angered a mob by helping a wild witch, but you get bonus points for heroism and making sure Silver got out of the crowd.”

He sighed at Hunter’s stony face. “Look, I know you’re an adult who can handle yourself, but things aren’t the same as they used to be for you, and you haven’t been here that long. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You seem to be doing relatively well, at least, on the scale of how well you and your brothers tend to react, but there are still things that worry me about you. You don’t need to prove yourself to me.”

“Things that worry you? Like what?” I thought I was doing pretty well blending with the rest.

Caleb put the hammer and nails down, sitting back on his legs to face Hunter properly. “Like… thinking you need to fix every problem in the house without me finding out there was ever a problem? Covering for your brothers even when they don’t need covering? I’m glad you want to protect them, and I know why you feel like you need to hide things from me to protect them, but it’s still something I’m hoping we can work on.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone. Relying on myself is the safest option, and it means you don’t have to do as much work. You’re already wearing yourself thin.” And following us to town didn’t help. Who did you send to watch the other Hunter? A wave of guilt swept over him at the thought that the crystal ball might have been left unattended while Caleb came for them. Sure, we had eyes on him, but what if we hadn’t? What if that had been the moment?

What if Belos had asked Darius to kill smaller Hunter after the parade?

The sudden, awful possibility felt like a slap in the face. Darius wouldn’t… right? No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

If he did, what if he had to fight him? Would he be able to? Even to save little Hunter?

A smile drifted onto Caleb’s face. “That’s not true. You trusted Silver to take you to town. You relied on Jason and Mole to help you slip past Cherry to get into the woods, even if it didn’t work. And when you WERE there, you trusted Matt and Cyrus to help you take that demon down.”

“That was—it’s not the same. They’re reliable allies. It’s not like…”

It’s not like they could replace Darius.

Titan, I hope I never have to fight him.

I couldn’t.

Caleb picked up the hammer and nails again. “You trust your brothers, even as much as you think you need to hover over them to protect them. And I’m glad for it.”

Hunter jumped to his feet. “I am not relying on them, I—”

His foot hit a loose shingle and his feet slid out from under him. Hunter yelped, the world spinning and tilting as he rolled down the roof. He heard Caleb yell, and then something snagged around his waist as he rolled over the edge of the roof, halting his fall. Whatever it was slowly lowered Hunter down towards the ground, and Hunter’s wobbling legs hit the earth, nearly giving out. He slowly untied the… oh, they were vines, around his waist and sat down, giving the vine a tug.

Caleb’s head poked over the edge of the roof, the other end of the vines wrapped around his wrist. “Are you okay?!”

Hunter gave him a weak thumbs-up, not trusting his voice to stay steady.

“Okay, I’m coming down, I’ll be right there, just…”

Caleb shuffled to the ladder, stepping on the top rung. He stretched his foot downwards towards the next one, hurrying towards Hunter. A warning sparked in Hunter’s mind, but before he could call out, the second rung splintered under Caleb’s weight, sending him crashing towards the ground. Hunter jumped to his feet, grasping at his belt for a staff that wasn’t there but would have let him move immediately to catch him. He ran towards the falling man knowing, just knowing that he wouldn’t make it in time.

Caleb crashed to the ground, and Hunter got there just a second later, kneeling down next to him. The human wheezed for air, blood flecked across rocks under his head, and one of his ankles twisted the wrong way.

“Hang on, just hang on—” Hunter started to slide his arms under his knees and back, then stopped. “Wait—don’t move—”

Hunter tore into the house, grabbing the shoulders of the first Grimwalker he found, Matt. “Where’s your mom?!”

“Huh? What was that sound, what’s-?”

“Where is she?!”

“In the garden with Mole, I think, what-?”

Hunter dropped him and sprinted towards the back door. My fault, my fault, my fault—

He crashed into the garden mesh, lacing his fingers through the wire to steady himself. Mrs. Wittebane dropped her basket. “Hunter? What’s wrong?”

“Husband,” Hunter wheezed, “Ladder. Fell off.”

She was out the door in an instant, running around the front of the house. Mole touched his arm, then ran after her. Hunter clutched the mesh like his life depended on it, pressing his forehead against it.

He wouldn’t have fallen if he wasn’t so worried about you.

It’s your fault.

“Hunter?” Jason tugged on his arm. “Hunter, it’s okay. Mom will heal him, he’s going to be okay. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!”

Jason jerked back, startled. “Whoa—”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “I made him fall off of that ladder, I was being stupid on the roof, why would I pick the roof to argue, of all places?! He was going to check on me, even though I was okay, thanks to him, and that’s why he fell, I made him fall off.” He stalked towards the gate. “I’m just making things worse. You guys don’t deserve for me to do this to you, I just—”

Jason ran in front of the gate, holding his arms out. “You can’t go!”

“I thought that was the first choice every Grimwalker got to make for themselves? I’m changing my decision. I’m nothing but a hazard. I’ll send the other Hunter your way if I can, I’ll watch over him as best as I’m able, but…”

“Hunter, it was an accident, no one’s blaming you but you, and he’ll be okay! You don’t have to go!”

“It’s not just this!” Hunter’s hands clenched into fists. “He’s looking after too many people, and it’s wearing on him, and I don’t have to be here! Maybe most of you need him, but I don’t, I can look after myself, so if I leave—if I leave, that’s one less person he has to worry about.”

Jason snorted. “Like he’d stop worrying about you if you left. He’d just have mom make another crystal ball so he could check in on you. Or send you raven phones to make sure you were okay.”

“That doesn’t make it better, Jason!”

“Right. Yeah.” Jason shook his head. “You think Cherry should leave, too?”

“What?”

“Do you think Cherry should leave?” Jason repeated, “Or Joseph? They’re both pretty self-sufficient, they’d probably be alright on their own. Do you think they should leave, too?”

“What?! No! He needs them, they can help him, they do help him with the rest of you, and with the griffins, if they left he’d have more work.”

Jason reached up, squishing his face in his hands. “That’s you.”

“What? I’m making more—”

“Nope. You are causing no more trouble than any other new Grimwalker. Except me, obviously I was a perfect angel.”

Hunter chuckled at that, despite himself.

“Got you. Anyway, you’re not making trouble for us. Even if you were, we’d still want you here. And… you’ve been doing a pretty good job of helping out yourself. Who was it that went out and got venom so that Mom could make an antidote for Venari?”

“That didn’t mean anything, your dad came back with a cur—”

“You did. And who was it who got Cyrus to open up about his boyfriend and start to fall in love again?”

“That caused more trouble than—”

“You did, and it’s a good thing for him. And who sat with me on the anniversary of my ‘death’?”

“Cherry. Lucy the griffin. Joseph.”

“And you. Stick around.”

“But I hurt—”

“Okay. Say for 3 seconds, I agree. Say it’s all your fault that Dad’s hurt. Is running away really the way you want to make up for it?”

“It’s not running away, I’m an adult.”

“Besides the point. Is that the way you’d want to make up for it? Do you really think that helps anyone? Stay. Please?” Jason moved out of the gate. “I’m going inside to make sure Dad’s okay. Go if you want.”

He disappeared into the house, and Hunter sighed, resting his elbows on the fence post and gripping the sides of his head.

Get ahold of yourself. Where would you have even gone? And Jason’s right, what are you solving by leaving?

As if you could actually get anywhere close to the other Hunter

You weren’t even taking a concealment stone.

Hunter shook his head, heading back towards the back door. The Grimwalkers had all gathered around the master bedroom, and he peered over their heads. Caleb blinked up at the ceiling, his wife hovering over him.

“Wow. Feeling better already. I’m going to—”

His wife pushed him down. “Oh, no you don’t. You have a concussion, broken ribs, and your ankle is still healing. You are going to stay right there, mister.”

“Agh. But—”

“We can take care of everything,” Cherry piped up, “We’ll take shifts with the crystal ball. You rest, Dad. It’s okay. Just trust us.”

“Where’s Hunter? He okay?”

Every single Grimwalker head swiveled around to look at Hunter, and they all parted to make a clear path.

Thanks a lot, guys.

Hunter shuffled closer. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.” Could have been me, lying there.

“Oh, good. Thanks for trying to catch me.”

“I missed. I’m… sorry. About causing the fall.”

“Not your fault, should have remembered that stupid rung.” He chuckled, then winced. “Guess I’ll remember it now. Ow.”

Mrs. Wittebane stood up. “Okay. Everyone go, leave Mr. Forgetful here to rest. He’ll be okay.”

She steered Hunter out of the room, reaching out, then pausing. “Permission to touch?”

He nodded, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine. Not even a scrape or bruise.”

“That’s not what I meant. Although I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She took a step back, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye, hers flicking across his face anxiously. “You know that accidents and mistakes happen, right? And we’re not going to hurt you or kick you out for this one?”

Embarrassment crept over Hunter, and he shifted back and forth on his feet. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “I know that.”

“Okay. Good. He’s going to be fine, this is hardly the worst injury of his that I’ve healed.”

“The worst being the one Belos gave him?”

“Hahhhhhhhh. Yeah.” She gave him a tired smile and wandered back into Caleb’s room, admonishing him to Lie Down The Boys Will Watch Over Hunter.

Hunter felt a tiny smile creep over his face at that. Bad at following your own advice to rely on others, huh?

He made his way to the crystal ball room, taking Caleb’s spot and watching the little guard pace around the keep like a caged animal.

No missions?

That’s not a good sign.

He could see books lining parts of his room, and started to wonder what they were about, the text too small for him to read. Could he and Jason talk about their books? Does he like jokes, like Silver? Or animals, like Joseph? When he gets here, will he be able to adjust? How badly injured will he be? Will he be able to recover, or will he never be the same? Does he know how to use wild magic? Would he want to learn from Sam? Would Sam even like him enough to teach him? Does he know how to reverse petrification?

Hunter rested his chin in his hand, watching him scribble reports and read books.

Do you and Darius get along?

Does he realize you look and sound a little too much like me?

What does he think about that?

I don’t know anything about you.

Is the golden guard title already crushing you, or are you still excited by the honor, flattered by the attention?

Do you know it’s a trap, yet?

A small red bird flew around the room, tugging on the guard’s hair, and Hunter watched with a smile as he set down the report, taking time to eat, and offering the bird some food.

“So you do like animals.”

Is your pet a secret, or does Belos know?

I’ve never seen a bird like that before.

Hunter traced his cheek where the other Hunter had a scar. What was the offense for that?

Did you think you deserved it?

There’s so much I wish I knew.

Why was there a gap between you and I?

Do you have any friends, like I did?

Will you be able to leave it all behind, to live here with us? Especially without a massive amount of time since you’ve been gone?

“I can take a turn,” Cyrus offered from the door.

Hunter stretched, wincing at his sore muscles. That fall had maybe shaken him up a little more than he’d like to admit. “I can stick around.”

“It’s been a few hours. Go get something to eat. There’s a lot of us, there’s no need for one of us to sit here all day, we can switch out. Something Dad could have stood to realize sooner,” he added in an exasperatedly fond mutter.

Hunter nodded and left the room. The door to the unused bedroom was open a crack, and he moved towards it with a frown.

Who…?

It slid the rest of the way open soundlessly, on well-oiled hinges. Hunter caught his breath as he entered.

“Unused” was a… strange word for it. Hunter definitely couldn’t picture any of the residents now using this room. But it clearly had been used, based on every well-loved book on cryptids and creatures of the isles, based on the photographs pinned to the wall of people, people Hunter was sure lived in the town, of the Wittebanes, of trees and beasts and plants. The camera was sitting on the dresser, which had a few odds and ends lined up on it, old film canisters that were being used as holders for hairpins and pebbles. Strings hung across the ceiling, with clothespins for developed film, he imagined, or perhaps for drying plants.

Caleb was lying on the bed, staring up at constellations painted in glow in the dark ink. He gave Hunter a brief smile. “Don’t tell her I got up?”

Hunter shook his head, wandering to sit next to him. “Whose… whose room was this?” Who won’t you forget, but won’t talk about? What did they do to you?

Caleb sighed. “My daughter’s.” He traced the shape of a light glyph on the ceiling.

“You had a daughter?”

“Mhm.”

“We almost had a sister.”

“What… happened to her?” Hunter shook his head. “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to…”

“I wanted to name her ‘Mercy.’ Short for God’s-Mercy-Flows-Down. Her mother didn’t like it.”

Hunter couldn’t hold back a snort. “Because it’s awful.”

Caleb chuckled. “Alright, alright. Hey, it’s not any worse than A.T.’s name. But we named her Achsah. She was…”

Hunter looked around the room again, full of knickknacks and photos and random pieces of nature. Pieces of a personality long gone. “I can guess.”

“I didn’t find the time pools again right after my wife and I came through. We built a home. She was already pregnant with Achsah, she had the baby, we built a life here.” One of his arms flopped over  his eyes, hiding them from view. “I didn’t find the time pools at all. It was Achsah. She was twelve, she… she came back, came running, telling me about the boy she saw. The boy who looked like me getting buried alive.”

“Mole,” Hunter whispered.

“Mole,” Caleb confirmed, “We… we went to save him. He was weak, understandably, confused. It took us a while to get back to the portal with him, we had to carry him most of the way. She insisted I go through first, and she would help Mole through to me. I got Mole through just as the tide came in, and…” he started to shake, tears leaking out from under his arm.

“She didn’t make it through,” Hunter whispered.

“She’d be sixteen, now,” Caleb mumbled, hands clenching into fists, “Sixteen years old.”

Hunter’s age. “You didn’t… look for her? After the time pools opened up again for your next Grimwalker?”

“Cherry. Of course. Of course I looked for her, but… it had already been twenty-two years for her, even if it hadn’t been that long for me. She’d… moved on with life. I don’t know how long she waited at the time pool for me, but twenty-two years? Of course she’d moved on. She had a husband. A child of her own. And I knew… I knew I couldn’t bring her back.” Caleb sighed. “It was… hectic. I… we were mourning the loss of our daughter, we were trying to figure out what it even meant that Mole existed, I… I don’t think I did right by him, I was grieving, I wasn’t there for him as much as I should have been. I mean, his life was turned over, too, but I… Every day, I wonder if he thinks I hate him, or blame him and I… I don’t know how to let him know that I never have, not for one second.”

The arm fell away. “How could I? She was so determined to save him, she was convinced we were related. That she was going to have a big brother. She was excited the whole way back to the time pool, was talking about helping him decorate his room, and showing him around… god, I wish she’d gotten to take him to all of her favorite places.”

“And now you can’t lose a Grimwalker,” Hunter said softly.

“I can’t lose another one, I can’t. I owe it to you, I owe it to her. She would have loved having all of this family. Would have gone into every time pool to save them with me, if I’d let her.” Caleb dragged his hands up his face with a groan. “Oooogh, I’m a mess. Can’t help anyone like this, least of all little Hunter.”

“Cherry’s right. You don’t have to do this alone. Achsah wouldn’t want you to do this alone.”

“S’pose I am a bit of a hypocrite, huh? Telling you to trust your brothers and I without letting any of the burden go myself. Alright, Hunter, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let go and let some of you help out a little more with the current golden guard. If you promise that you’ll at least try to trust me a little more.”

I understand you.

The thought came so suddenly and clearly as he looked down at the man he’d been cloned from.

I understand why you are the way you are.

It’s a little like Uncle. Grief. Guilt.

But more compassion than rage.

I understand you.

And that made it just a little easier to think about trusting him. Of course he wouldn’t hurt anyone here. He couldn’t even be angry at Mole for being the reason behind the loss of his daughter. If Meleager, Horus, Hamlet, and Venari were right, he couldn’t even summon up enough rage to hurt Belos, would rather hustle everyone else to safety.

“Okay,” he said softly, “Deal.”

Thank you @kateinator for Achsah’s name!

[squirrelno2]

Jesse Lives AU, pt 5

(learned my lesson, wrote this on Google docs even though I hate it. This experience of course will still not get me to take my computer in to the repair shop because executive dysfunction is Real)

For real this time, Jesse and Jale get the hell away from the Venator wreck, and it's the last time for a while I milk the image of the clone graves for angst. In this series anyway.

Previous: 1, 2, 3, 4

Next

"I still need that monitor," Jale said. Jesse once again wondered why he'd gone along with the crazy theelin.

"You can't reach it," he pointed out, not sure why he was bothering.

"It's grab that or go raid the medbay," Jale said. Jesse had been avoiding medical since Kix disappeared, and he certainly wasn't going to go in there now with the bodies of vode Maul had attacked lying there, dead in the midst of recovery. He was having a hard enough time not thinking things like "Kix would have saved them" as it was.

"Fine. Just… stay there for a second. Don't do anything stupid, if you can manage it."

He knelt to untie the rope from around the walkway, then put it around Jale's waist. He pulled it tight with more effort than he needed, and ended up tugging Jale closer. Jesse stepped back; he was not at all struck by the fact that Jale's eyes were brown when the rest of them was so brightly colored.

"Keep one hand on that," he commanded. Jale almost immediately ignored him as they turned back to the monitor they wanted, leaning out once more with one hand on the equipment to steady it as they worked. Jesse gritted his teeth and wrapped the rope around his hands another time, bracing himself for Jale's next dumb move.

Amazingly, the scavenger managed to finish the job this time, and they threw themself backwards with the monitor clutched to their chest. The walkway shuddered under them. Jesse, having no desire to die for this bottom-feeder, tugged Jale up.

"Let's go before your bullshit brings the whole place down." He got to work untying the rope once more, then resecured it to the walkway.

The descent was more painful than Jesse wanted to admit. His head was pounding, and all the activity was reminding him just how many cuts and bruises he'd picked up in the crash. Normally, he'd already have gotten looked at by a medic. Even with Kix gone Jesse couldn't bring himself to ignore his brother's advice, and the medics in the 332nd were willing to come to him instead of forcing him into the medbay. They all remembered Kix, too.

But now Jesse was really, fully alone, and when he staggered upon reaching the floor he realised again what that meant.

Rather than dwell, he looked at Jale.

"Tell me that's the last of it."

For a second, he thought the scavenger would protest. Then, strangely, Jale nodded.

"We can go," they said.

The wind had picked up. As they reached the place where Jale left the speeder, Jesse heard a rattling - helmets knocking against the sticks on which they were mounted. He lifted his gaze to the sky and tried not to listen.

Jale made him sit in front, though they were also emphatic about Jesse not being the one to drive.

"Can you even see over my head?"

"Your bloody head? Yes. Good thing you don't have hair. If you wanna drive, stand up and walk in a straight line for me."

Jesse had thought his unsteadiness had gone unnoticed. He scowled as Jale finished securing the fuel to the speeder and sat down behind him.

"Was there anything else you needed?" Jale asked awkwardly. Jesse tensed.

Clones didn't have much. Armour, blasters, whatever contraband they picked up over the years. Jesse's small collection of the latter had been passed over to Kix when he became an ARC trooper, and subsequently disappeared with Kix. The blasters were technically the property of the Republic, which no longer existed and also had ordered Jesse to point them at his two Commanders for reasons he didn't understand.

As for his armour…

He turned to look at the place where his helmet was mounted. Jale turned, too, and sucked in a sharp breath that told Jesse they'd figured out what he was looking at.

"I'm good," he said. He passed Jale the helmet he'd borrowed. "Let's go."

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Quarters. | 9

☼1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 

prompt: “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” — soul-gazing

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings/au: please keep warnings in mind—dysfunctional relationship with a capital D, toxic relationship themes, but they’re attempting to get better, probably inaccurate therapy but i tried, m-ish, humor(i try), mentions of drug usage, cheater cheater pumpkin eater?, fluff, angst, boxer!au, iceskater!au. 

authors note: Hello!!💖it’s been a while since the last update but here we are. ✨This chapter is pretty long✨. Unlike some of the other parts, it is following the timeline of the previous part(pt. 8) so just keep that in mind. See m.list for other parts. Enjoy!🥰

“Do it again, you need to stop relying on your right leg so much!”

Your coach yells for the third time in the last hour, she’s being a tyrant today. Your poor ankles are about to break off, your legs are straining and the cold air is starting to feel like vengeful needles. It’s been about two months since the incident with your leg and the doctor at your last check up granted you freedom to skate again. You’re glad it did to because you were about to go crazy. After the scandal came out about you and your ex-coach judge, she asked you if you wanted to get back into pairs. She went on about how Lucas was open to joining pairs again and that maybe you could get back with him—tempting offer. You’ve thought about it, though you still haven’t made a decision. It has been months since your injury, you can no longer use it as an excuse to take things easy. 

Determined to get it right, you skate back to your starting point and try it again. You skate forward, bending your knees just slightly to gain more momentum and once you turn, you take off into a triple salchow. Perfect.

”Finally,” You mutter, skating over to the edge of the rink where your coach is just getting off a phone call.

“Okay, Lucas will be here on Thursday to practice with you,” She smiles, tucking her phone in her pocket, “there’s a competition in two months and I think you two should sign up for it.”

“Coach, I haven’t decided if I want to get back into that,” You put on your blade guards and walk over to the lockers, “I just don’t know yet.”

“Think about it,” She leans against the lockers as you untie your skates and put them in your bag, “if you’re seriously pursuing this career, you have to be flexible. You’re not getting any younger. I hate it just as much as you do but you’ll get positive exposure with him and maybe even pick up a sponsor for the season.”

“Fine,” You zip up your duffel bag and slip your hoodie on, deciding to leave the yoga pants on, “but I need a break. I worked a night shift last night so I’m only standing because I took three espresso shots and I’m about to take another one, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, try to get some rest this weekend. You’ll be at the ballet studio for half of next week so you won’t be on the ice,” She says that, hoping it’ll give you some relief, “just don’t forget to soak your feet tonight.”

You gather your stuff and walk out of the center, waving at Carrie the desk clerk like a zombie. It’s only 8 o’clock but you’ve been here for two hours, you feel like you’re in a time loop. An eternal warp created to keep you totally spent. When you hop in your car, you crank it up and turn the heat on. Not long after, your eyelids begin to feel heavy so you drive over to the closest coffee shop. When you look down at your phone, you see a missed call from Jeon Jungkook. All prior emojis have been removed from his contact.

His call will stay missed, just like the other five. You’re not in the mood for his sob story. About two weeks ago, you decided that you two needed to take a break but he took it hard. You remember sitting on your couch with crossed arms and staring at him as he twisted and squirmed uncomfortably.

“What kind of break?”

Are there different kinds?

“The kind where we stop seeing each other all the time, I don’t know what kind that is, Jungkook. But I can’t deal with this right now, it’s causing me major stress and anxiety...”

“You can’t deal with me?” He sounds hurt.

“Not with you Jungkook, with your crap. I have a ice skating career to try to work out, a job, school, the last thing I need to worry about is whether you can control yourself,” You frown, “you were just at my house with my niece and next thing I know you’re out getting high and fooling around with other girls.”

“You’re still upset about the photo,” He concludes, “baby, I told you, it didn’t go anywhere with that girl, I pushed her off. I wasn’t completely sober but I know I didn’t let her-”

“That’s exactly my point, you were doing drugs. And for what? You don’t need it. I understand a little bit of smoking every now and then but I can’t handle when you do that other stuff. That night was a disaster. I got stabbed, how does that even happen? But of course, it would happen to me,” You massage the sides of your temples. “I’m just over it, I’m tired.”

“You want to give up on us? Just like that? I’ve apologized a thousand times, I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m sorry,” He twiddles his fingers and bites at his bottom lip, “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m not giving up,” You defend, “we need some space to work on our selves.”

“Why can’t we work on ourselves together?”

“We’ve been doing that and it doesn’t work.”

The conversation continued on until you two ended up arguing for a good hour before you lied, saying you had to go to class. He left and you haven’t heard from him since, not a a call, a text, a call, not even a like on any of your recent posts. He’s taking this well.

*

“Why did you do that!? She’s gonna think I called her,” Jungkook snatches the phone from Jimin, “fuck, are you trying to get me killed?”

“Come on,” Jimin roles his eyes with a grin, putting his boxing gloves back on, “you guys can’t stay away from each other, you expect me to believe you two aren’t talking-”

“I’m serious, we haven’t talked for weeks,” Jungkook locks his phone with a frown, tucking it in his gym bag, “she’s done with me.”

“Oh, aw man,” He is serious, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.” 

He had been by you and Jungkook for the entirety of the relationship, it always seemed like you preferred things to be spontaneous. Admittedly, he knew Jungkook would do something that pushed you over the edge one day but he didn’t think it would be so soon. 

“We didn’t break up,” Jungkook mumbles, tying his hair back with a head band, “we’re just taking a break, that’s what she told me at least.”

“Aw, that sucks,” Jimin has to contain his amusement, it’s not funny but the fact that Jungkook is giving you full control over the relationship is unusual to him.

“Every time I think about trying to talk to her, I just remember that face she makes and that tone she uses. That’s when I know she does not give a single fuck, it’s scary.” 

“Is there a reason she’s being so hard on you? Don’t get me wrong, you were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have been there but it’s been weeks.”

“Her past relationship was rough on her mentally and emotionally. When she was young she had some things happen to her that causes her to have a hard time trusting others.”

“If you knew that then why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t know, okay? Everyone's been beating me up about it but I just don’t have an answer for you. I said I was sorry,” Jungkook shakes his head, fists making brunt contact with the punching bag, “I just I miss her,”

“It’ll be alright, she’ll come around,” Jimin holds the bag, keeping it still for the lovesick boy, “just give it some time. Hey, I’m taking my niece to the ice-skating rink in town, you should come!”

Jungkook, dramatically collapses to the ground, laying back on the ground with his boxing gloves on his face. “Ice-skating, why would you suggest ice-skating!?” He whines. “That’s literally what she does, it’s just going to remind me of her...”

“Aw Kook, I know,” Jimin can’t help but giggle at Jungkook’s overreaction, “that’s okay, you’ll be fine, and besides,” He pulls him up from the ground and pushes his shaggy hair back, “you can’t stay away from each other forever..”

“What about this one?” You step out of the dressing room, turning from side-to-side to let her see, “I like the color.”

“That’s the one,” Harmony scrolls through her phone, eyes going between you and the screen, “perfect.”

“Harmony, you’re just saying that!” You whine, turning to look into the mirror again with a frown.

“Y/n, this is the 11th dress you’ve tried on, it looks great. I’m serious.”

“Okay, I’ll go with this one then,” You smile, going back in the dressing room to change back into your clothes. Yuna’s having a party for the charity she works with. All of the money donated goes to buying toys and clothes for kids in foster care and orphanages, you attend every year. 

“You know, I heard Jungkook might come with Taehyung,”

Ugh, you forgot that your groups of friends are also friends. Jeon Jungkook, you still consider him your boyfriend in some aspects, but you don’t want to face him right now. Maybe you’re dragging this out too far but honestly, you don’t care. You love him but right now, you’re doing too well to let him crawl himself back into your life. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t creeping on his social media every now and then, you do care enough to see how he’s doing on there. 

“Hm,” 

“That’s all you have to say?” She giggles.

“Yup.”

“Did you officially dump his ass yet?”

You step out of the dressing room, rolling your eyes harder than necessary.

“Look, what happened to you was terrible. You couldn’t skate because of him. You caught him with another girl and you still let him take you home,” She was still bitter about Jungkook taking you away the way he did, she still thinks she should have insisted more.

You clear your throat, “I rather not talk about it.” 

It’s been admittedly awkward every time one of your friends bring that night up. On one hand, you understand why they bash him so hard but on the other hand, it’s hard to hear. You two leave the mall and grab lunch to eat in the comfort of your car..

During this break, you’ve decided to try and take things slow, relax. Admittedly, it would be nice to have Jungkook around again, to run errands with, to cuddle with. It’s hard not to miss him, you knew it would be. 

“We should go to the pop-up ice-skating rink on campus today, it’s a family thing I think,” Harmony squeezes ketchup onto her fries with a thoughtful him, “it sounds fun.”

“It’s funny you say that, Lucas invited me to go ther. He was going to go with his family, I told him I probably wouldn’t be able to.” You sigh.

“Oh, that’s right! The prince is back in town,” Harmony always had a thing for Lucas, even in high school. When you two were partners years ago, she still had a crush on him, “then we definitely should go. Are you getting back into pairs with him?

“Yeah, we’ll do one season together next year.” You have to admit, you are excited to get back into the practice with one of your best friends. 

“I’ll definitely have to brush up on my ballet lessons and I was always a bit too shaky during lifts. Our instructions used to say if I don’t look comfortable during lifts on the stable ground, I can’t expect to look good while I’m being lifted and Lucas is still skating. I trust Lucas a lot more now so I think it’ll go well,”

“Jungkook will love that.”

You take a bite of your chicken sandwich with a heavy sigh, “He’ll live...”

“Uncle,” Yona sits with her little brother in the back seat while they wait for Jungkook to finish pumping the gas, “why does your friend look so grumpy? Doesn’t he want to go skating with us?”

Jimin glances back at Yona and smiles, thinking of how he should explain Jungkook’s situation. “He’s just upset, he’s fine.”

“What is he upset about?” Jimin hesitates for a moment but Jungkook signals that he’s running inside for something.

“Well,” He turns to face her, “can you keep a secret?” She eagerly nods. “Kookie is a little sad because he misses his girlfriend.”

“Oh, what happened to her?” Yona frowns, fearing what Jimin might say.

“Nothing happened to her, he’s okay, they just haven’t seen each other in a long time,” He rakes his brain, trying not to say too much about Jungkook’s love life, “but it’s okay, he’s alright. Just try to understand, he’s not trying to be a grump, he’s just a big teddy bear who pretends to be tough when he’s sad,” He grins, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh,” She nods adorably, pitying Jungkook, “I won’t,”

in the nick of time, Jungkook comes back with a receipt and mumbles something about the poor management in the convenience store. Jimin notices how Yona looks at him with sympathetic eyes but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too wrapped up in his phone to see that a 9-year-old is pitying his dysfunctional love-life.

It doesn’t take long before the four of them arrive at the skating rink and Jimin is helping, Juda, Yona’s sleepy 5-year-old brother out of the car. Yona takes the liberty of escorting her self out and walking over to Jungkook.

“Hi,” She looks up at him, not even a little intimidated by his towering stature over herself.

Jungkook looks around, as if she’s talking to someone else. “Hi,” He gives her a small wave, “it’s Yona, right?”

“Yes,” She nods, walking by his side, “uncle said your girlfriend skates, do you skate too?” 

Jungkook mentally cringes, bracing himself for whatever Jimin told this little girl about his personal life. “No, I’m a boxer, she’s the skater.”

“Ahh, ice skating is prettier than boxing, you should ice skate too,” She looks back at Jimin and Juda walking side by side, wondering if she should walk with them or stay with Jungkook. Just when she was about to further judge Jungkook’s life choices, Jimin and Juda catch up. Jimin leads the four of them to the skate rental booth where Jungkook avoids eye contact with the girls behind the counter. It’s hard enough to be in your environment, let alone be surrounded by couples and families skating to their hearts content. It’s not the same without you, it doesn’t feel like he should even be trying to enjoy himself after what he did to you.

Jimin and the kids get their skates on, but Jungkook tells them to go ahead without him. The more he sits here, the less he wants to be here.

*

“We decided to come and skate for a little bit, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take your invitation, I didn’t think I’d be able to come.” You and Harmony skate out onto the ice.

Lucas stands at the edge of the rink, smiling. “It’s okay, I’m here with my family so don’t sweat it, hey! You wanna practice a routine, for old time sake?”

“There are way too many people to be practicing a routine. Besides, I’m already sore from practice yesterday.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought you told me he skates with you sometimes,” He skates a circle around you, a toothy grin on his face, “I want to meet him.”

“He was busy,” You lie. You don’t know where Jungkook is or what he’s doing, “It’s just us.″

Somehow, he believes you and skates off with his family while you breathe.

“You lie,” Harmony shakes her head as if to say shame on you.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m not gonna burden him with my personal problems.”

You two go back and forth until she surrenders, claiming she’ll leave you a Jungkook’s relationship out of her mouth for the rest of the day. You highly doubt she can but you appreciate the effort. 

Nononononono—why is he here? And blonde. Your eyes widen, your palms get sweaty, just seeing him affects you. You’ve missed him. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the bench with his skates beside him, he looks sad. Who is he here with? 

”Y/n, Harmony, hey!” Jimin skates over to you with two little kids by his side, they’re so cute. “What’re you two doing here?”

”Jimin? Hi, fancy meeting you here, we decided to come last minute,” You’ve connect the dots now, “who are these two cuties?”

“I’m babysitting my niece and nephew,” He holds both of your hands and the both of them say a shy little greeting, “say hello guys,”

“Hi,” Yona waves at you two and you greet her with a bright smile.

Jimin glances back at Jungkook who has yet to notice you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” You nod.

“Harmony can you please watch them for a second?”  “Me? Um, I guess but-”

You skate to the edge of the rink and Jimin follows, you already anticipating what this conversation is about.

“Jungkook is here.”

“I know, I saw him,” You deadpan.

“Look, I know what happened between you guys and he probably doesn’t want me to say this, but he’s been the biggest bitch since you two split, I’ve never seen him so at odds with himself.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? That’s not my fault.” You frown.

“I’m not saying that you need to do anything,” Now he understands what Jungkook meant about your infamous tone. “I just wanted to let you know, I figured you haven’t talked.”

“I’m sorry,” You hold your face in your hands, “I’m not trying to be mean, I just have a lot on my mind and I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with him today.”

“Maybe you two can talk, I’m not saying you should get back together but maybe talking face to face will help you find common ground?”

That’s advice that you know you should take but the thought of talking to him makes your stomach uneasy. It’s easier to ignore him, erase him from your life while you figure out what you want. You’re very childish in the aspect of talking things out, he is too.

“Here he comes,” Jimin looks over at Jungkook who is slowly approaching you two, “I’ll give you two some space-”

“Jimin, I swear, if you did this on purpose!-” Your threat is cut short when he skates away and Jungkook skates up to you. As if you don’t even see him, you quickly skate away, uninterested in anything he might have to say.

Jungkook knows he can’t possibly out-skate you. He mumbles a few curses before skating over to Jimin and the kids as frustrated as ever. For a moment, he almost changed course because Harmony, his biggest hater, is with them and she is one of the last people he wants to see.

“Jungkook, hey,” Jimin sighs, dreading the angry frown in Jungkook’s brows, “I’m glad you decided to-”

“Did you know she was here?” Jungkook cuts straight to the punch, not paying any mind to Harmony whose staring at him as if he’s a mass murderer.

“No,” Jimin shrugs, voice low in order not to alarm the kids who are skating near by, “you know I would have told you.”

“I’ll be in the car.” He skates off, anxious to get off the ice but he’s stopped when another skater bumps into his shoulder.

“Sorry!-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shrugs, but just when Jungkook was about to leave the guy gives him a weird look. 

“Wait, what’s your name? You look so familiar,”

“Jungkook,” He responds with a bit of impatience, “I don’t think I know you from anywhere, sorry-”

“You’re Y/n’s boyfriend! She showed me some of her pictures pictures,” Lucas smiles but Jungkook’s eyes darken, “I’m Lucas, we’re competing in pairs again next season, I’m sure she’s told you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know, probably slipped her mind,” You haven’t mentioned it on purpose. Then again, how could you? You haven’t talked in weeks.

Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, he meets your partner, and he’s not ugly,

“She said you couldn’t come because you were busy, did you come to surprise her?”

“Something like that- I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Okay, well...nice to meet you,” Lucas waves him off but Jungkook doesn’t pay him any mind. 

He thought this might go differently, why did he think that? As soon as he saw you, that tug in his heart came back, that desire to be around you came back. When you walked away, it made him feel like crap, you didn’t even want to look at him.

While he’s skating off to the side to leave the rink, he sees you taking off your personal skates and putting them in their bag. Of course, your caddie is right next to where his heavy black boots are. He enters the room opens the caddie with the little pass-code they gave him when he rented the skates. You spare him a glance as you tie your sneakers and he sits to get his shoes on.

“Did you have to ignore me like that?” He decides to speak up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You frown, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Since when did you start caring where I go?” He bites back. “You’ve been ghosting me for fucking weeks and suddenly I’m not allowed to go out?”

“I didn’t want to see you...I was doing so good, I was forgetting about you.” You lean back, not giving him eye contact.

”Wow, just what I wanted to hear,” He thought you would say something like that but he didn’t expect you to be so blunt. 

“You can’t say you’re surprised, can you?”

“No, but the least you can do is talk to me.”

”Fine, that’s fair. What do you have to say?” You stand to your feet, your bag tight in your hand/

”Believe it or not,” He gets up to lean on the wall behind him, “I love you, so I'm letting you drag me along and make all of the rules but I’m just asking that you communicate with me, I need to know what you want,” He tends to ask this question when he’s most desperate for your good side to emerge.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want? I’m not the one going around making decisions that hurt our relationship, not recently anyway.” You throw a jab at him, you couldn’t contain it anymore.

“If you’re trying to make me feel like shit, you’ve succeeded. You’ve been succeeding for weeks now, it’s actually starting to get to me, mentally.” As he says that, an unsuspecting few individuals come in to get there things.

“Can-” You pause and walk over to him to eliminate the awkward distance, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

His spirits brighten a little because at least you’re interested in continuing the conversation, you haven’t even attempted to do that until now. So when he stutters out an “okay”, his feet move as soon as yours do. He’s walking right next to you and you find yourself keeping your arms crossed, away from his hands that you would normally be holding. By the time you walk out to the rink, Jimin is still with the kids and Harmony is gone, probably in the restroom. You find a secluded area near the concession area and take a seat, he does the same right across from you. 

“Do you want to break up?” 

He puts it out there. He’s never been the one to hesitate, especially when his heart is on the line.

“What do you mean?” You swallow, not expecting to be confronted with that question.

He almost scoffs because you’re having a similar reaction to his reaction to you telling him you wanted to take a break.

“Do you not want to be in a relationship anymore? If this isn’t something you’re willing to do anymore, I need you to tell me so I can grieve in peace...I feel really lost right now.”

“Grieve? I’m not going to die if we break up, Jungkook, and I never said I wanted to break up—I never said I didn’t love you either. That’s not what this is about, it’s not about whether we love each anymore, it’s about trust.” 

“How can I gain your trust?”

You look around, making sure no one is listening in on you two before mumbling out your answer. “I don’t know...I just don’t trust you, I can’t tell you how to make it up to me because people who screw me over, I normally stay as far away from them as I can.”

All you can think about is the lies from your birth-mother, the betrayal and humiliation that came over you when you found out about your ex. Situations like that always come to mind when the subject of trust is mentioned. You’ve been hurt and Jungkook knows that, he knows when you feel like you can’t trust someone, you shut down. You want nothing to do with that person, your pain blinds you—its your character flaw.

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now,” You mumble, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I know.” He scoffs, a look of disbelief that turns into an understandable shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve always thought of you as someone I didn’t deserve, you know that,” He glances down at his twiddling fingers, “when we got together, you changed me and I’m so grateful for that...I was such a shitty person before I met you- I mean, I’m sure you think I’m shitty now but I was way worse.” It surprises you when you see tears welling at his eyes that he quickly wipes away, tattooed fingers getting a bit wet.

“Jungkook,” You lay a hand over his with sympathetic eyes, “I still love you.”

“Seriously?” He glances up at you, surprised. 

“Yes...You hurt me, you made me feel stupid and I’m not over it...But I never forget those times where I made life difficult for you, you never made me feel irredeemable. No matter how awful I acted, you never made me feel like a burden. That’s more than I can say about a lot of people in my life.”

The more you talk this out with him, the more you realize how harshly you’ve been treating him. It doesn’t change how you feel about your relationship, but it does open your eyes to the standard you’ve been holding him to. You don’t know if you’re ready to start again.

“Well, I have to be honest with you,” He looks at you through his dirty blonde locks, “it still hurts like hell to have you treat me like a stranger. That shit is painful, even for me.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur out an apology before you can really think about it, “I’m just upset at you is all...” Slowly, you take your hand off of his and your eyes wander back to his dear-like eyes. 

“Everyone’s telling me I should let you go but I don’t want to. I just need to know that you’re willing to wait for me, and to work on yourself...”

“I’ll do anything, I’ll do whatever it takes for us,”

Shortly after that day, you found yourself thinking more and more about your future. It made you cringe at one point, what were you planning to do with the rest of your life? Whatever you planned to do, you always imagined Jungkook would be by your side. Now, you’re coming to terms with the fact that things may not go as planned.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Lucas calls your name from outside of the dressing room.

”What are you doing in here? This is the woman’s locker room,” You open the door, now fully dressed in your new leotard.

”We’re the only ones here,” Lucas stands with a matching outfit, far less sparkly as yours.

”Why does she always pick these leotards for me? You always get the toned down looks-” You walk over to the mirror, furrowing your brows, “Oh, actually, this one is kinda nice.”

“She knows you’re the most dramatic out of the two of us, maybe that’s why,” He shrugs his shoulders before quickly running back out into the ballet studio. Your least favorite part of your career is the ballet lessons, it’s the most grueling.

“Come on out, Y/n, we only have the studio for the morning so we need to use our time wisely.”

“Sorry,” You walk out with an urgency, “the costume fits okay, a little snug but it’s doable.”

Coach gives you a knowing look, she’s been floating the idea of a diet around. As committed as you are to your craft, dieting is one thing you don’t think you need to do well. You try to stay fit but sometimes you’re more concerned about your dwindling love life than you dress size. The ballet instructor emerges from around the corner and you cringe, the next few hours are about to be painful. 

Yet, as the class progresses, your thoughts drift farther from the positions and you find yourself zoning out completely.

*

*

At one point in time, you couldn’t imagine being without Jungkook. Out of all of the people who’ve come and gone out of your life, he stayed. He became your best friend and your first love.

“I don’t want to be here anymore, please, just let me go home,” You sat on the hotel room floor, hair pin in your hands and a painfully cold ice bag on your ankle, “...I can’t go back out there.”

She stands with crossed arms, her unchanging expression not doing anything for your emotional state.”Y/n, you are a professional, and do you know what professionals do?”

”No.”

“They finish the competition, no matter what. You need to stay for the judging, “

“Why? I fell on my biggest jump on live television. Cindy. I look like an amateur...There’s no way in hell they’ll even consider placing me. That means I’m done for, I might as well kiss nationals goodbye.”

”That was the last program, you still have a chance-“

”Not after Charlotte’s routine! You said it yourself, I had to be flawless or Charlotte would take my spot in the qualifying team, there was no room for error. This is the one time it had to be perfect...” You use the bed to help you up and you sit down n the edge of it.

”It won’t be perfect every time. You work harder than any girl I know, and not just in this sport, you work hard at whatever you do and you support yourself, you’re the only girl I know who’s parents aren’t paying for you to be here. You deserve to be here, you made one mistake, one. It’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Cindy takes a seat beside you, a comforting hand going to your shoulder, “these things happen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down and think rationally. Cindy is trying her best to talk you off of the ledge but you’re very much still there. She says you work so hard, but what do you have to show for it? You’re doing this alone a majority of the time. Your family only comes to support you sometimes, they don’t have a lot of free time to spend on your hobby. Your iceskating is a glorified hobby to them, they won’t say it but it’s true. After they told you to pick a major and find a good paying 9-5, they stopped paying for your iceskating. They’re paying for school but that’s it, you’re supporting yourself in every other aspect. That gave you all the reason to try to prove to them that you were an exceptional athlete. To prove to them that you did it all on your own, that’s your only goal. Yet, the more you reach for that, the farther you get from it.

”Listen, I need to check on the other girls, alright? I hope you reconsider.” She pecks your forehead, a motherly affection that you’ve come to appreciate from her. She is like a mom in some ways. She cares for the entire team, and she would never say it, but she has a particular soft spot for you. She can see how much you want this, how the ice can take you to a different place.

You were meant to do this, she always tells you that. She saw the fire in you as soon as she accepted you on her team. Your passion attracted her to you, you never stopped, you had so much drive. Some people are meant to fight tooth and nail for what they want, sometimes you have to ask yourself, why do I have be one of those people?

Ignoring your better judgment, you packed your bags and took the 2-hour drive back to your apartment. All while you were fleeing the city to seek refuge at home, you received multiple phone calls from Jungkook but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. When you got home, you took off your tracksuit and sank face first into your coach. 

As much as you wanted Jungkook to come to the competition, you insisted that he stay and take that job. He hasn’t been boxing as much so any extra art job he can take, you encourage him to take it. He told you he’d streamed the competition while working on the mural at a nearby bar. His heart sank when you took that fall.  You put hours of practice into that routine and perfected it, he had seen you do it flawlessly several times. 

All he wanted to do was hug you and tell you that you did well but all he could do was hope that you weren’t beating yourself up. He could only imagine how devastated you were and to not be able to be there for you, he couldn’t stand it. He finished up the mural and you had finally texted him saying, ‘I came home early.’ He went straight to your apartment with the big pink bunny he bought for you, you need it even more now.

”Hey, it’s me,” He opened the front door and announced himself softly and walks further inside. 

The television barely illuminates the living room but he sees you laying on the couch. He sits the bunny down behind the couch so you can’t see them before walking around to greet you in your depressing state.

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, baby,” He rests a hand on thigh and kisses your cheek, “you must’ve known how much I was missing you,” His attempt to make you smile goes painfully unnoticed. 

He bites at his bottom lip in thought. “Did something happen?...”

You swallow the lump in your throat and finally look him in the eyes, “Did you watch my second program?” 

“I did, you looked beautiful-”

“I’m quitting.”

He turns his whole body to you, brows deeply furrowed like a cartoon character. “What?”

You cover your face with a pillow, successfully hiding your tears, “I’m calling Cindy to tell her I don’t want to do it anymore, I quit.”

“Woah, wait, why?” He takes the pillow from you to see your face, “Y/n, calm down, what’s going on? Tell me what happened.”

“I- I didn’t make the national team, that was my only chance until next year. All my hard work went down the drain and everyone saw me screw up..” You wipe your tears with your sleeve.

“Hey, it’s okay, you cry if you need to,” He pulls you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest, “I know this is tough for you but it’s not the end of the world, it’ll get better.”

You pull away from him as if he were suddenly hot to the touch and bury your face into the arm of the couch. “You wouldn’t understand, the pique of my career was riding on this, and I blew it. It feels like the end of my world, okay?” 

You know your words are muffled by the couch, that’s probably for the better anyway. “T- that’s just how I feel...” 

He doesn’t pry any further after that. He knows there’s not much he can say to change your mind right now. Instead, he scoots closer to your side and places a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he waits for you to continue.

“I have nothing if I lose this, there’s all this pressure on my shoulders and its tearing me apart...” You turn to wipe your face and sit up. “I love skating, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do...if I stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You’ll never forget that night. 

He lifted you into his lap and kept his arms tight around you. “You’re so much more than just your skating. You’re so good at but it’s not all that you are.” Jungkook has a way of talking you off of the edge but that night, you were especially down on yourself.

“Yes it is...” 

“No it’s not,” He sighs, “look, I know what it feels like to find your identity in something and then all of a sudden, that something is gone...When my portfolio got rejected, I felt like a failure. My family never got behind the boxing thing, so I’ve always tried to find another way to support myself just in case for whatever reason it doesn’t work out...I didn’t start realizing that until recently. I’m constantly torn between giving up one dream for the other but I want to do both, you actually inspire me to do both.” You furrow your brows, briefly abandoning your own issues to listen to him. 

“You work so hard and you’re showing your family that you can do this, you just have to believe in yourself, and you know what? You’re doing amazing. Tonight was just a bad night, it happens.” He squeezes you tight and you do the same, arms fastened around his neck as if it would kill you to let go.

You didn’t need to say anything after that. You settled your mind and you were no longer at the edge, you were still close, but not there. With your head resting over his shoulder, you try to peek over the couch to see what he dropped back there when he walked in.

“Hey, what’d you think you’re doing?” Jungkook leans forward and your grip around him is loosened so you can no longer look back there. “You think I got something for you?”

You look down a bit embarrassed that he caught you, “Well, yeah...you did,  didn’t you?” You smile for the first time tonight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally.

He was going to tease you for wanting your gifts even though you just had a meltdown. But how could he? He wants to keep this smile on your face for as long as possible.

“Sit,” He lifts you off his lip and back to your previous seat on the couch, “no peeking.”

You hold your hands over your eyes, excited even thought have no idea what it might be.

“Okay, open.”

When you move your hands to see you squeal in excitement. “Oh, Jungkook! It’s so cute!” You stand up to take the pink bunny that’s almost more than half your size. “Thank you,” You lean into him with the bunny between you two, “it’s so big and soft, like you.”

“Yeah I know,” He sways from side-to-side with you in his arms, “you feeling better?”

You muffle your sigh into the stuffed animal, “I still wanna quit.”

“Oh stop,” He pulls the from your grip and tosses it onto the couch, “you’re just being bratty now,”

“No I’m not,” You whine, the issue still very fresh, “I’m still sad...I just really like my gift and I’m happy to see you...But I am still upset.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” He lays on the couch and beckons you into his arms to lay on his chest, “let’s cuddle you until you feel better then, will that help?” 

“Maybe...”  

You’d be lying if you said you could live without that side of him.

*

A few days later, you’re surprised you hadn’t heard from him. But when you get back from the gym with a missed call from him and a solemn text to  ‘call back when you can’, you actually call him back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Thank you for calling me back.” 

His voice sounds relaxed but a bit anxious.

“Did you need something?” You sigh, pouring your boiling water in your mug.

“Are you free to go with me somewhere at 11? And then maybe, we could grab dinner? Just-...Don’t be mad, please.”

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I signed us up for couples therapy.”

“You did what?” Somewhere in your mind, you had wanted him to bring this up—you never imagined that he actually would.

”You said we don’t know how to work on ourselves together, I read that therapy helps with that. Will you go with me? If you don’t like it, you never have to do it again I swear.”

“Jungkook...I appreciate the effort, I really do, but how did you find this therapist? Do you trust them?”

”Of course. He has great reviews online and my-...Well, my mom found him actually.”

You pause, a bit taken aback. He talked to his mom about your relationship and he took her advice about seeing a therapist? He must have really taken your words to heart about getting help.

“Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20.”

When he picked you up, you were reminded just how well he could clean up. Sure, he always dresses so well and smells amazing, but he’s different today—you can tell he put in a lot of effort. You’re glad you decided to do your makeup and where a nice sundress, you would have felt terribly under-dressed.

“Hi, how can I help you?

“Hi, we have an appointment for Jeon at 5, with Seojoon.”

You stand next to Jungkook at the front desk, your hands tightly clutching your purse. It’s hard to not think the woman is judging you and Jungkook for being here. She’s probably seen hundreds of people come into this office but something in you can’t shake the feeling. She directs you two to the waiting room and says he’ll come get you two in a few minutes.

“So,” You begin, glancing at Jungkook, “I’m nervous...” 

“Me too.” This is new for the both of you. In only a few seconds, who you assume to be Seojoon emerges from the hallway and you look at him a bit wide-eyed. 

“Hi, Jungkook, Y/n, are you two ready?” 

“Oh, um, yes.” You stand up in sync with Jungkook, already wanting to run out of here but you resist.

You have to admit that the office is really nice, not stiff and sterile looking, the energy is very calming. Seojoon opens the door to a cozy-looking room with tons of natural sun light. There’s warm-rose colored couch that you assume is for ‘the couple.’

“Alright, you can take a seat right there, make yourselves comfortable.” He smiles, taking a seat and you two do the same.

“So let’s get right into it. What brought you two here today? If you could both tell me your separate answers, that would be great.” Despite Seojoon looking at you directly to presumably go first, you divert your eyes and look at Jungkook to say something first.

“Well, we’re- I think we’re going through a lot right now and I just want to save our relationship.” Jungkook sits back, resting against the arm of the couch as he gazes at you to give your answer.

“What about you, Y/n?”

You glance down at your lap, feeling very out of your comfort zone and not confident enough to verbalize what you would like to say. Alas, you try.

“I feel the same way, we’re not in a good place and I’m confused about what to do-...I just want what we used to have.” You confess a bit of your true feelings but ignore the longing look Jungkook gives you.

“When did you start feeling like the relationship was changing?”

“Fairly recently. We were fine, at least I thought we were until I saw him with another girl back in an old lifestyle that I thought he gave up...”

Seojoon diverts his attention away from you and to Jungkook. “Jungkook, do you want to share a little bit about that?”

“Not really,” He answers honestly at least.

“Why not?”

“To be honest, I don’t know why she keeps throwing the same jab at me. I’ve told her the truth but she doesn’t want to hear it. I went out that night,” He almost glares at you, “I didn’t plan to. I ran into an old friend and I just-...I thought it was harmless and I got caught up...” 

Seojoon scribbles something down. “Okay, so can you fill me in a little bit. Are we talking about unfaithfulness? Addiction?”

“Unfaithfulness,” You interject. “he said he didn’t cheat on me but...” You mumble, your confidence faltering for some reason. “It’s hard to believe that.”

“But you think he did so you have some distrust. Were you unfaithful, Jungkook?”

“It doesn’t matter if I say I did or I didn’t, she thinks I did.” He shrugs.

”Y/n,” Seojoon puts an end to the death stare you had on Jungkook, “can you tell Jungkook what cheating looks like to you?”

”Not sleeping with her doesn’t mean you didn’t cheat on me. Letting her put her hands on you- And I don’t care if it was just a kiss! You shouldn’t have been in that situation, and for me to have to see it on social media? I could have killed you I was so mad. You should ask Jungkook what cheating is to him. We obviously have different standards for defining it...”

”What does cheating look like to you, Jungkook?” He heeds your suggestion without any push-back.

”To me,” He hesitates, feeling a bit scrutinized, “it’s when a person violates the intimacy of the relationship by giving it to someone else.”

“What kind of intimacy?”

“Emotional, physical, every kind,” He turns to you, “I wouldn’t do thingst that I do with Y/n with anyone else, not by choice-”

“Yes you would! You did...Are you trying to tell me that you were assaulted? That she forced her way on you?”

“I was blitzed! I don’t fucking know. All I do know is that she got on top of me and I pushed her off. That’s it. I swear, if anything else happened, I don’t remember it.”

“I don’t care. You know what I’ve been through, to even allow another girl to even get close to touching you like that...It was a slap in the face.”

Seojoon’s ears perk up at the mention of your past. “Did you have to go through a similar situation in a previous relationship?” 

“Yes and he knows this. I was being cheated on before and the guy had a literal baby on the way throughout our entire relationship...It was traumatizing.” It stings his ears to hear you say that. But it’s true, he knows your past and he didn’t let it stop him. 

“What happened must have triggered you,” You nod to yourself, “but you’re here to try to work through forgiveness and build trust. If you two are comfortable with it, I’d like you do do two exercises; one here and one when you’re alone. The first one that you’ll do here, I need you to face each other, preferably close, and I have some questions for you two to ask each other.”

“Like this?” Jungkook answers instantly and turns to you, getting closer to you than he has in weeks. You face him slowly, eyes wavering a bit. His face has always been a soft-spot for you, staring at him makes you feel weak.

“Actually,” Seojoon stands up, gesturing for you to do the same, “two chairs might be more comfortable, yeah? Let’s go to my other room.”

You follow Seojoon to a small room with three chairs a small table in front of them. Jungkooks pulls seat out so they’re facing each other. When you look up to acknowledge him with deliberate eye-contact, for a moment he thinks you might be softening. 

“I want you all to start with ‘I’ statements, tell your partner how you feel or how you felt in this case. Try to maintain eye-contact and truly listen to each other.”

“I’ll go first,” You volunteer because you want to get this over with.

“I feel alone and helpless when you go back to your old habits, I feel like you’re hiding things from me...” You find a way to keep your eyes-locked to his. 

“I’m not asking you to be perfect but I just want you to make me feel special to you...Like you wouldn’t dream of being with someone else. Because I don’t think of loving anyone else, and trust me I’ve tried to imagine it but I can’t,” You bite your cheek to keep from crying, “you make it so hard to trust you. You don’t listen and you don’t change until it’s too late.” 

Being emotionally inept is something you are both too good at. It’s difficult for you to share your true feelings with a clear mind, but when you do, you can never guess what will happen next. 

“I feel trapped by you. I know I fucked everything up, okay? You don’t have to keep reminding me.” His tone is harsher than you anticipated. 

“I’m trying to put in the fucking effort to help us, and I’m giving you time. But when you tell me you still want me but you won’t even let me come around, it’s confusing. You’re confusing, that’s just how I feel.” His brows furrow and you notice Seojoon watches the exchange intently.

“But I miss you and I want you back, I don’t want to take a break,” He leans forward with his hands firmly gripping your knees over your dress, “I know you think I’m an asshole but I try to change, I’m trying, you know I wouldn't bring you to this if I could think of any other way to prove that to you.” The strain in his voice only stirs more emotions inside of you. 

“Jungkook,” Seojoon calls his name softly and Jungkook looks over as if he forgot he was there, “try not to engage in any physical, okay? It can be overwhelming.”

“Sorry,” He takes his hands from you and sits back, “that’s all I want to say.” 

“Alright, well, um,” Seojoon clears his throat, eager to break the tension up a little bit, “unfortunately our session is up but I want to give you two a list of exercises and talking points. I know this was a consultation appointment but I want to give you some things to work on at home. I’ll have Kelly type up your homework, alright?”

“Okay, thank you,” you both thank the therapist but you get up with an urgency and leave the room before Jungkook can follow you. When you make it out to the waiting room, you spot the bathroom and you bolt to it. Before you have to spend a car ride with him, you need to get your emotions together. 

“Mr. Jeon,” The receptionist calls him from the hall, “this is for you, you can bring it back to the next appointment for a discount.” Jungkook halfheartedly thanks her before going to the car. He doesn’t even know if there will be another session. He needs to smoke before you come out and you’ll freak if he smokes while you’re in the car. 

“Why did I come here...” You look at the mirror and frown, you look so rough. It was nice to get everything out in the open but you knew he’d get intense eventually. Only when the toilet flushed did you remember that there were multiple stalls in here. When you look away from the mirror to fumble through your purse, just trying to avoid talking to her. 

”Hi, how are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Oh god, nervous, I’m nervous. Me and my husband, we’re newly weds, our appointment is in five minutes and I really don’t know what to expect. Did you have an appointment with your partner?”

“I did,” You sigh, “it was-...It was fine, don’t be nervous.” In your attempt to comfort her, you find your self in a highly hypocritical position. “Me and my boyfriend, we’re different so ours was a little- A little chaotic but I think it helped a little,” You hesitate, “I don’t know.”

“That makes me feel a little better, hopefully my husband behaves himself,” She tosses her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and smiles, “well, it was nice meeting you.”

It takes you a moment but you gather the strength to wave goodbye and go face your boyfriend.

”Excuse me, Miss, I think your husband forgot to grab this.” The receptionist waves you over and hands you a little folder.

”Oh,” You try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.  he’s not my- We’re not married.” 

”Oh, I’m sorry! He only put his last name on the appointment so I thought it was your name as well. Sorry about that, have a great rest of your day.” She bids you farewell with a flustered smile.

When you walk outside, you see Jungkook leaning against the car. You thought he might’ve been smoking but you can’t detect any small. That’s a relief.

”You feeling okay?” He questions gently. 

You nod, hopping in the car with the desire to be home already. He gets in the car and glances at you from the corner of his eye, he worries that this might have been too much for you. 

“Where do you want to eat?” 

“There’s a ramen place down the street, that’s fine with me.” You suggest, eyes trained on your phone.

The air in the car isn’t tense or stiff, its just quiet. There’s a lot to unpack from the session and you figured Jungkook was thinking through it too. That’s why when you two arrived at the ramen shop, took your seats, and placed your orders, the silence was getting to be a bit too awkward for you.

“I like the new hair, you’ve never gone this blonde before,” You glance up at him, trying to start a conversation, “it looks good.”

“Thanks, it was an impulsive thing. I heard you decided to get back into pairs,” He brings the coke to his lips, “I was surprised to hear that.”

“Oh, yeah,” You figured he would find out soon, “I’m back with Lucas for the season.”

“Good for you,” That’s not a reaction you were expecting from anti-pairs-skating Jungkook. Then again, you know him well enough to know that he’s probably keeping his true opinion to himself.

“The receptionist gave this to me,” You pull the paper out of your purse and show it to him, “I think it has additional information.”

“Let me see,” You hand it to him, “hm, soul-gazing? What the hell is that...” He reads over the description and it makes him giggle. “Nonverbal communication between lovers, allows couples to explore intimate places in the relationship. We do this already, but it’s a little more than eye contact,” He recalls those dreamy moments that he used to share with you so often, gazing at you with a smile.

“We can try that later maybe,” You avoid his smile with a glance out the window.

“Okay. So, about the session today, I hope you understood where I was coming from...I didn’t expect to say all that, I’m sorry if it was too much.”

“Don’t apologize, I wanted to hear how you felt.”

“I’m sorry,” He extends a hand out on the table, hoping you’ll take it, “I’ve thought about what I’ve done and I’ve tried to repent for it. But at the end of the day, it’s up to you. But just tell this once, you miss us, don’t you?”

“I do, Jungkook...It’s just, I’m in a tough spot and I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint anyone or myself.”

“You’re talking about your friends or your family?” He frowns at the thought of either party trying to discourage you.

“My family doesn’t know anything about this, it’s my friends who are concerned for me. They saw me get hurt and they don’t want to see it happen again, they want me to be happy.”

“Don’t listen to them, all they do is talk shit about me and try to tell you what you need. The only people who have a say in this relationship is you and me. We choose what makes us happy, not them.”

“But I’m not happy,” And it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still being judged, “I’ve actually been depressed when I think about us, when I think about what we used to have and what we have now, how did this happen?”

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” He sighs when you finally reach out to take his hand, “I never mean to hurt you,”

“I want you back so bad sometimes,” You break, letting your true feelings out to him, “but just because I want it doesn’t mean I should, it’s always been hard for me to separate the two.”

“That never stopped you before,” He flashes that smile, the one you fell so hard for on the roof of his car. 

“Now look where I’m at,” You take your hand back, “going to therapy with you.”

*

*

Jungkook took you home and sunset had passed, it was already dark. You found yourself inviting him in, hugging him longer than you should have when he was on his way out. Why were you holding on to him so tight? His bomber jacket lands on the floor and you relish in his arms, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it won’t hurt to let him in, indulge. It doesn’t take long before you let him kiss you for the first time in weeks. It feels new, it can happen a thousand times and it’ll always feel new. 

But then your phone begins to ring and reality washes over you like a cold shower.

“Wait,” You pull away from the kiss and slide off of the counter to his dismay, “I need to get that-”

“Ignore it,” Jungkook cups your jaw, trying to persuade you with longing eyes, “please ignore it-”

“I can’t, it’s my mom, something might be wrong,” You quickly answer the phone and walk into the living room. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home, is something wrong?”

“You forgot, didn’t you? Your brother Leo, you were supposed to pick him up so he could stay with you for the night. me and your dad had to take Milo to his Taekwondo tournament for the weekend.” Your mother stresses over the phone.

“I’m so sorry! Mom, seriously, I totally forgot,” This is the worst possible timing, “doesn’t Leo have his license, he can drive here, can’t he?”

“We have the car. Don’t worry about it, it’s handled now, his friend came by and he’s staying with him.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that crossed my mind,” You can’t help but feel as if you’ve disappointed her by forgetting such a simple thing, “I’ve been busy, I’m prepping for the next season, I’m working and in school, it’s a lot right now-”

The conversation  ends with a cold lecture from her and a solemn goodbye when she hangs up. You massage your temples, and look at Jungkook who’s coping with the best part of his day being ruined by a phone call.

“Everything okay?”

“I forgot to pick up my brother, my mom asked if he could crash here but I forgot all about it..”

“When have any of your siblings actually visited you? Except for your sister when she needs a babysitter.” Jungkook always sports a defensive tone when your family comes into the conversation.

“He’s only come over a few times. But he has friends who live over here so that’s normally why,” You take a deep breath. “She sounded frustrated so I know she’s upset.”

”Don’t stress about that,” He comes in close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “your mom shouldn’t beat you up about that, especially since she knows how much you have on your plate.” He smooths down your hair and kisses your forehead gently. That innocent forehead kiss quickly migrated down to your neck and you bite your tongue.

”Jungkook, please,” You get out of his embrace and leave him longing.

"Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you, this isn’t like you. You push me away but never for this long,” He follows you to your bedroom where you kick off your shoes and take off you cardigan. ”If you’re serious about making this work again, you’ve gotta help me out a little here.” 

You feel him looming behind you, so close that you feel the warmth of him on your lower-back, or is that his hand?

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m being really nice right now,” You step away from him, “but you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” He feigns ignorance.

“If that’s what you were hoping for you should just go,” You pick up his jacket and hand it to him, “it’s not happening.”

“Ok, but do you mind if I stay the night?” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, debating whether or not that’s a good idea.

“Why? It’s not even that late yet.”

“I don’t want to make the drive home, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He pleads, those big round eyes helping his case immensely.

“Fine. But you’re on the couch,” He looks a bit disappointed but he was expecting that, “I’m gonna shower, you can wait for me or use the guest bathroom if you want.”

With that, you walk off into your bedroom to get your clothes and then into the bathroom in the hall. Though you hesitated to let him stay, it’s really not a big deal now that you think of it. He’s stayed over more times than you can count so you feel no need to punish him by saying no.

Baby steps. 

Jungkook falls into the couch, relieved and anxious—but mostly relieved. He was sure you were going to throw him out. When he hears the shower turn on, he begins to wonder what you might be thinking about, do you want him the way he wants you right now? If so, you’re hiding it pretty well. Just being in your home makes him feel comfortable and happy, that and your presence. You’ll be a while in the shower so he figures a few moments of relaxation on the balcony won’t hurt. 

*

When you step out of the steamy bathroom, you hug your robe tightly to your body. Curious to see what he’s doing you peek out of the hall and see him on the balcony, shirt nowhere to be seen and smoke wafting from the little stick in his finger. Jungkook has always been a temptation, a forbidden fruit so to speak. You had one bite, and that’s all it took. 

It’s a warm night, that’s probably why he’s showing all of the neighbors his tattooed glory, you giggle to your self at the thought. You run to your room to slip a t-shirt and shorts on so you can join him, you can indulge him in conversation at least.

“Hey, I was going to get a snack,” You open the sliding door and he looks back at you as he exhales a a cloud, “are you hungry?”

“I’m okay,” He puts it out in the ashtray, “thanks,” 

“You didn’t have to put it out for me,” You step onto the patio and close the door behind you.

“I was done anyway,” He says that but he clearly wasn’t, he’s just being sweet, “how was your shower?”

“Good,” You sit beside him, “you can go ahead and shower if you want to, you know where your clothes are.”

“I will in a minute,” He looks out, enjoying the view of the city, “it’s beautiful out here...”

“Yeah,” You smile, reminiscing on the many moments you two have shared together on the balcony.

“So,” Jungkook sighs, probably��reminiscing on the same thing, “do you want to do that exercise?...”

“Exercise?- Oh, the eye-contact thing, we can...” You turn to him and he does the same, “so, do we-”

“Shh,” He holds a finger to his lips, “we’re not supposed to talk,” 

You swallow, eyes locked on his and his on yours. His eyes are so dreamy and mesmerizing, they always have been. This eye-contact is giving you a great excuse to analyze his face. The little mole under his lip, his cute nose and cheeks—you’re trying not to look at his body but it’s hard to do that right now. 

He’s doing the same thing to you. Your eyes, nose, lips, he’s just taking it all in as if your a sculpture at a museum. Looking at each other like this reminds you both to see each other, to really see the human you both decided to love.

“Jungkook,” You know you’re not supposed to talk, “don’t cry...” You thumb the tears away from his cheeks, your motherly habits kicking in.

“Shit,” He wipes his cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” He’s so emotional, it’s more endearing than anything.

You cup his jaw and kiss the apple of his cheek, then his lips. His hands are almost shaky when he reaches up to hold your face, you lead his hand to your face to let him know that you don’t mind.

“I love you too,” You breath, your head in the nape of his neck, “but I can’t do this, I shouldn’t...”

Once you realize you’re no longer in your own chair but in his, it’s too late to pretend you’re not equally as desperate. It escalates and the best and worst happens. 

[tenthgrove]

500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

[thevirgodoll]

hi! i was wondering if you have any tips to stay organized and stay on task? i’ve been doing a short online course this year and have really struggled to ACTUALLY bring myself to do the work, as assignments and lessons are not under any time constraints i just don’t do it. i also have adhd so get bored or distracted easily. do you have any tips for me?

This is really close to me because I also have ADHD. I have both inattentive and hyperactive type. *As a result, this academic tip guide will be a guide for people with ADHD and not neurotypical people, without disability. There is a difference.*

I am doing online as well this semester.

1. I create a schedule. If I do not create a schedule, I will be unproductive the entire day. So, what will help you is to do things in orderly fashion.

For example, at 12p - I will do this assignment/watch this lecture. You have to dictate what time you’re doing everything. Then, you also have to block out technology distractions while you are working. 

-> Even if you’ve gotten halfway through the day with no schedule, write down or block off times on your digital calendar for what you are going to do at each time. ADHD is easier to tackle if you break things down into smaller tasks.

*Pro tip that I almost forgot: before you do anything, wear your day clothes. Don’t wear pajamas. Actually getting dressed or even doing hair/makeup changes things.

2. Download the Forest app after you have created your schedule. I consistently recommend this because it works in increasing productivity. It allows you to set it for however long you’re doing this task, say 30 minutes.

-> Why?: It will block all apps on your phone for (insert time here) to plant a tree, and if you leave the app your “tree” will die. Eventually, the more sessions you do, the more points you will gain to plant different plants, and eventually plant real trees around the world.

3. Have a list (& a planner) as well. Not only is the schedule creating structure, but the list creates even more structure so you know what you need to get done for the day. It also helps you not fall victim to the classic symptom of forgetting. Each day, you should write down what you WANT to get done and create your own times to look at lecture and assignments. Have goals for the day.

For example: complete assignment 2.

If you do not have expectations with yourself before the day begins, your ADHD will kind of take over and do something else. I have structure to my day. I set a timer to wake up at the same time. I take my ADHD medicine 90 minutes before my final wake up time, and I do my morning routine once it kicks in. Having the same routine helps.

-> Focus on your goals. Don’t be super harsh about the times.

-> Don’t overwhelm with how many things on to do list. Again, break it up into small tasks. For example, one part being: Wash dishes or fold laundry. It makes it less overwhelming to your brain and gives you a choice of which task. Typical non ADHD people just tell you to prioritize tasks but that doesn’t work for us. Do it in a random order and it gets the job done.

4. TAKE BREAKS! The other side to this is making sure that you give yourself adequate breaks.

*For hyperfocus, wait til your hyperfocus has started to wear off. Use it to your advantage for peak productivity. It is no joke.*

-> The misconception is that some people with ADHD are lazy and as a result, some ADHDers won’t take breaks. You can take a break. Healthy, long breaks do more for you long term.

-> Have a timer set. For example, after a 45 minute session or an hour session, I will take a break to do another task that has nothing to do with studying, like laundry, eating a snack, or stretching. Then after that task is done, I will go back to studying.

5. Have a workspace. Only do work at this space. I do schoolwork at my living room table and it is perfect. I do not study in my room because that is my sanctuary for relaxation and rest, not productivity. Make an effort to make the workspace clean, with your supplies - laptop, notebooks, pens, etc - readily available.

-> Once I get to my workspace, everything for the morning is already done. I’ve done my morning routine, so all there is left to do is hydrate while I study.

6. Recognize if you have adequate energy to do the task. Sometimes, with ADHD you may neglect your needs. If you are not getting enough rest, here are some tips:

•Bed should be for rest only.

•Blackout curtains

•Lavender essential oil, I have a diffuser but you can also put it on your pillow

•Background noise: pick what you want, lo fi music, rain sounds, binaural beats, singing bowls

•If all else fails, ADHD is often comorbid with other illnesses, meaning you could have a form of depression causing insomnia for example. This should be considered if you are having long term issues and symptoms.

7. Don’t overdo it. We are not neurotypical. Executive dysfunction is real - meaning our brains actually shut down when it perceives a task to be mundane.

-> You do not have to fit everything into one schedule for the sake of being “productive”. Each day should be what you know you can do, and there are different days to tackle different goals.

-> When you feel like you cannot continue, which is literally a symptom of ADHD, sit still for a few minutes.

8. Have a “What I Did Today” List. Because of how ADHD actually makes us feel, we don’t realize how much work we have put in. ADHD actually can be explained easily, we have about 2 dopamine workers showing up to work while most people are at maximum capacity. We are working overtime to do our best, even on medicine. So, acknowledging what we did today is good and encouraging, or at least reflecting in a journal.

9. Play music. It’s recommended to play study music without words because with ADHD we will submerge ourselves into the playlist of nostalgic 90s R&B. I recommend lo fi hip hop on YouTube, video game instrumentals, classical music, or jazz instrumentals. Whatever gets you going just do it!

General ADHD tips:

•Rewrite lecture notes and type the lecture notes.

•Color code with bright colors and pretty drawings or calligraphy

•Instead of telling yourself “I need to take notes” which usually leads to procrastination say “Rewrite lecture notes and emphasize main points” ... this is useful in your to do list but in everyday goals

•Generally try to get your assignments done ahead of time if there is structure to certain courses, if not, again, stick to the schedule. If you slip one day off your schedule then don’t beat yourself up. Breathe!!!

•Side effect of most ADHD meds is that you’re not hungry so buy easy things to eat like muscle milk or yogurt and granola or smoothies so you can sustain yourself

•Get a dry erase board to show what you need to do for the day and put it on the fridge with command strips

•To avoid forgetting things, put them at a table near the door where you leave your apartment/dorm/house.

•Don’t overthink the time it takes to get ready, often that’s why ADHDers are late. Better to be super early than late though - have a routine set so you know how long each task takes - for example “I know a shower takes me 15 mins, washing my face takes 60 seconds and a few more including sunscreen/moisturizer, etc...”

•In that same grain, set timers for going to the bathroom, showering, etc just in case you one day hyperfocus and push yourself too far

•Open the blinds!!!!

•Clean your room and tidy up your space. A cluttered space impacts your mental health in a really negative way. Your space reflects your mental state at times as well, so check in with yourself. Have a specific day where you know you’re going to clean, but ADHD sometimes gives us bursts of cleaning so take advantage of that as well.

•Anytime your water bottle empties refill it. Have your water bottle or mason jar next to your workspace, and drink 5-10 gulps. Seriously. ADHD depends a lot on hydration, especially if you are on medicine which naturally dehydrates you. If you do not stay hydrated, you’ll get that massive headache mid day and crash sooner. A lot of times, lack of productivity can be due to not drinking enough water.

•If you don’t take medication, then sometimes you may notice you love coffee, and that’s because it’s a stimulant. Too much of anything is not good, but balance it with water. If you’re going to use coffee to kinda “medicate” then do it close to when you’re going to be productive.

•Setting yourself up to do a task rather than envisioning the overwhelming act of doing the entire action. “Okay, lets just get up and get the first step down, such as opening the laptop or wetting the toothbrush.” Baby steps.

•Take advantage of accommodations! Your college more than likely has an Office of Disability Services. Also, email your professors...they’re actually just as stressed as you about classes being online.

•Remember that you’re already trying as hard as you can, so don’t listen to the narrative of “try harder”, “you’re *r word*”, “you’re cheating by using medication”, “just do it,” “it’s easy,” “what’s so hard about it?” or “you’re lazy”. Anyone telling you that, even yourself, is wrong. And DO NOT allow anyone to be ableist, even yourself.

•Validate yourself. Don’t let anyone to do the “I experience that too”/“I know what you mean”/“we ALL have trouble with this!” and they don’t have ADHD. No. It’s our experience, it’s valid, and unlike anything on the planet. If you’re reading this and you don’t have ADHD - no, you do not experience any of the things in my next bullet point.

•Don’t be hard on yourself if you stumble along the way getting this right. ADHD completely changes your executive functioning.

We see the task, but our brain blocks it.

We have something marked down as “important” but our brain tosses it out in the “trash”.

We watch an entire episode of a show, but our brain ignored the entire thing. Our brain picks and chooses what is stimulating, our brain changes our interests.

We have sensory overload, we have no dopamine, we have bursts of curiosity that cannot be contained (often inconvenient) and if interrupted, our brains cannot take it.

People often discount how many things ADHD actually changes because it’s widely misunderstood. I want to take the time to acknowledge that ADHD, formerly known as simply ADD, has different types: primarily inattentive, primarily hyperactive-impulsive, or combined which is what I have. So it’s not “hyper” and “relatable”. It is also not a buzzword to use to describe things. I must put stereotypes and misrepresentations of ADHD to rest.

It impacts us emotionally as well, which most people don’t know... such as rejection dysphoria — extreme sensitivity to being criticized to where our brains self destruct. Our brains don’t regulate emotions well.

ADHDers - do not fall victim to how everyone else operates and call yourself a failure. We have to work twice as hard and the results actually come out brilliant especially with our determination and imaginative ideas that are also seen in autistic individuals, honorable mention!

There’s good days and bad days. There’s literal changes in thinking that other people do not experience. We all collectively know wouldn’t be who we are without ADHD, but we all recognize the challenges. However, it makes me happy to see messages like this so that I can make a difference and hopefully help one person with ADHD, especially of color, at a time stop being so hard on themselves. 💗