#but i am not a fucking child who needs to be coddled i know death happens

[julesnichols]

It's been Zero Days since my family decided to keep the death of a family member from me and I only found out once they accidentally let it slip out!!

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[nicksolemnlyswears]

HOTD S2 EP2 THOUGHTS

SPOILERS AHEAD

I need to start this by the very strange scene at the brothel. It took me so much by surprise I had to pause it. Like we all know these boys have mommy issues but I always thought it was more Aegon than Aemond. Like wow. I was left like this

It was the intimate position, his hair was down, the lack of clothes. He was completely vulnerable. Aemond wanted to be coddled and to be told reassuring words.

I didn’t understand well the part where she tries to kiss him and he says “not here” like sure man. you���re just naked and telling the keeps secret but go off [ngl i was waiting for her to pop a boob out and breast feed him]

that woman is a dangerous woman. she had scheming eyes. we’ll see where that goes.

Following up with the mommy issues I am so disappointed in Alicent. Aegon is clearly not her favorite child I do not know how she can bear seeing him weep as he seeks her out and she just nopes out. WTF. No wonder your other son is seeking refuge elsewhere. Also forcing Haelena to do the funeral proceeding. What sort of mother are you? The Greens think they’re so high and mighty but they barely resemble a family. They are not a united front.

The funeral proceedings almost had me in tears. I didn’t think they’d show the poor child with its head sewn back together. I thought he’d be covered. Now more so than ever I curse Alicent. You are forcing your daughter who had to witness his death relieve this scene. You forced her to watch her son be paraded around the city.

Daemon fucked up and it’s because of him that a child is dead and yet I can’t bring myself to hate the Blacks. The Greens are terrible people.

Aegon is falling apart and mourning and he has no one to come to. He doesn’t know how to control his emotions and I can’t blame him for it when his mother and grandfather only use him as a puppet and not a real human being. I pity the Hightower children.

That being said WTF was that? Making Ser Criston Cole the hand to the king? Disgusting. He was projecting so hard during this episode. Bitching about Arryks dirty cloak and blaming him for Jaeherys death.

BITCH IT WAS YOUR FAULT FOR GETTING YOUR COCK WET. FUCKING CRISTON COLE I CANT FUCKING STAND HIM. I CANT EVEN SAY IM HAPPY ALICENT SLAPPED HIM CAUSE HE PROBABLY ENJOYED IT.

I’ve got more to say regarding the Greens but my blood pressure is going up. Let me recap I hate them and I pity them all at the same time because the three children are only products of Alicent and Otto’s parenting (Viserys up to some point to)

Oh and let’s not forget Otto’s kind words for Viserys. He probably just misses how easy he was to control.

MOVING ONTO THE BLACKS

Baby Jace and Baela I love that little moment and yet I fear it because she’s out there on cute little Moondancer and it sounds like trouble.

Love the Ser Harwin talk. They acknowledge it and they accept it. Talk about being progressive.

But also so sad that Baela feels that way towards Daemon. I had high hopes for their relationship considering that deleted scene in season 1.

RHAENYS HAVING RHAENYRAS BACK TALK ABOUT FEMINISM. HELL YEAH! I fully want Rhaenys to be Rhaenyras ride or die!!

Daemon fucked up, yes. Will we ever know what he told Blood and Cheese? No. Still I can’t blame Rhaenyra for doubting him. He’s a sketchy man who puts on his little cloak to commit war crimes.

Don’t get me wrong I’m a Daemon stan but if he didn’t act so sketchy maybe we would trust him more.

He’s a dramatic guy he’s out commuting yet another big declaration of love for Rhaenyra. Like “look i’ve got harrenhal for you” I think idk we’ll see next episode.

Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk how fucking tragic. and whose fault is it? FUCKING CRISTON COLE PIECE OF SHIT

breathe nikki breathe

a part of me thinks he killed himself because he knew they would live in doubt if he’s really sir erryk. but in reality they believed they share a soul so that was probably why. he killed his other fucking half. they might be divided by believes but they still love each other.

ELINDA IS A REAL HANDMAID. SHE FOLLOWED INSTRUCTIONS AND LOOKED FOR A GUARD. Haelenas maid could never.

I have so many more thoughts so if anyone wants to talk please feel free to hit me up. I’ll probably rewatch the episode tomorrow again to process

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Hi excuse me, but what happens at a new moon? 👀

"Don't make this sad" 😂

"hey you're full of shit" insults are Aviva's love language.

Lola makes me so sad "people who move fast towards me usually don't have good intentions, especially when I've been bad." you haven't been bad sweet baby girl. 😭

It's interesting though because she's sad and traumatised and a little pathetic like Neil but whereas with Neil I'm like 😈 yes hurt him more, make him sob plz. Here I am don't you dare hurt her! I will end you.

The thought of John all on his own in this house so close to where the Aviva's death happened that he feels responsible for makes me rally sad. I'm glad he ended up choosing staying with his uncle.

Whenever John explains what he is doing he never actually explains what it is he's doing.

I'm gonna be honest I cannot keep all the magic terms straight completely, but I'll get the hang of it.

For someone who wants to coddle Lola and protect her at all cost I do cheer on Aviva calling her on her bullshit and John reasoning with her.

Not me saying NO! Quite loudly outside walking my dog because Lola said I should have been smarter, good things don't happen to me. 😭😭 What the fuck???

I know I already commented on it, but Aviva's mean supportiveness is great.

Oh no it got even sadder, so much sadder.

Oh good they're hugging. 🥰🥰

You know, yes there is a lot of fuckedupness here, but also in general this group has a lot more emotional intelligence than our vampire family.

"Apparently I'm a really good kisser" 😂😂

I know they all try, but I feel like John's logic and rationality is the best suited to poke through Lola's self hating bullshit.

Omg all the roles fit so well. 😭😭

"I didnt really have comfort as a child" the casualness with which this is said is extra devastating omg

Okay I'm sorry he want them to hold him down drowning in the traincar where Aviva died??? What the fuck?!?

He comes there a lot?? One of the most traumatic moments of his life? That doesn't seem healthy.

Goddamnit if both Lola and John would internalise the speeches they give each other just for one second!!!!

John's mom is such a fucking dick!!

And now she is physically there???? We need to end this bitch. Every word out of her mouth is so toxic!

My favourite thing about this system is that it sounds like they get to roll so many dice at once all the time. As someone who only has played 2 ttrpg session face to face, I am so envious of irl dice rolling.

Yes Aviva! End her! Or at least hit her! Good girl. Just so snarky too with it.

Just the nervous giggles when Rob picks up all his dice. Oh no.

Uhmmmm what??. No no. This is not allowed! How dare you, John's mom! Leave Aviva alone. 😭

Abusive controlling mothers wo only think about themselves, I hate them, but oh do I love to hate them. Happy mothersday to those who celebrate I guess.

This episode had everything! Trauma! Some goofs! More trauma!

[melody-k-hart]

I feel like I've been stuck between a rock and a hard place so much in my life I've forgotten how to breathe

I get up from my bed so fast you'd think I was excited to start the day but I've been laying in bed for an hour contemplating going back to sleep and I have to stop at the door to stop myself from blacking out

I walk down the stairs my ears ringing from all the times I've blasted music so loud to try to drown my thoughts out and I push past the pain in my right leg from yet another night of restless sleep

I'm doing better right? My mom says she's proud I'm speaking up for myself more and I'm getting on meds to fix my fucked up brain so I must be doing better right?

I swallow another pill

They keep talking about counseling. I don't have the money or the motivation but they tell me once I can get this financial aid bullshit done I can get it through the school. They act like I don't spill my guts to anyone willing to listen like my inner child doesn't beg others to give it attention and to just say 'yeah that was fucked up'.

I still fantasize about killing myself. Of course these are the words I never spill out because they feel more like intrusive thoughts anymore than something tangible and close to the tip of my tongue. Even so I've been saying 'I'm gonna kill myself' as a joke again.

I look both forward and backwards to winter. How I sometimes crave the fantasy of walking in the woods and just sitting there till my body rots. Maybe that will take away the fear of someone finding my body. How even in death the thought of traumatizing someone else makes me sick.

I know I don't really want to die. I want to disappear. I want no one to remember me anymore but at the same time I want to run off and let those who actually care find me and wrap me up in their arms. I want to go somewhere where no one knows where I am, no one can find me. But I want to be found.

I fell in love with him the moment he told me 'everything's going to be okay' and it didn't feel like a lie. The moment I was able to swallow his you're okays and be able to breathe again. But now he says 'you're fine' as a joke and I have to sit back and wonder if our feelings are the same as they used to be.

I am kind of better. I see my worth a lot more and I stand up for myself. But a part of me doesn't want to be better and wallow in everything. I want to throw a temper tantrum about how my life has never been fair. I want to cry and be coddled like a child. I just want to be comforted and taken care of.

But in this life that isn't something I can just get without anyone telling me I'm over reacting or I don't deserve it. That I'm acting like a child. That I'm not mature enough for this world. So I zip it up into the back of my mind and push forward.

Cause at the end of the day, I still need to get shit done. Even if I feel like I can't breathe.

[hwascripts]

Masterlist

WC: Unknown

TW: Swearing, mentions of murder, a bit of angst, I think that’s it!

This is heavily unedited because it’s my Levi simp hours and I need Dad!Levi headcanons. Also your kid and Eren’s kid are gender neutral

Levi as a father 

-I honestly don’t picture Levi as someone who planned on having kids but rather someone who ends up having kids by complete accident. Living in the walls during a war is absolute hell and he doesn’t want his kids to suffer the same way he did growing up.

-Whether or not the kid is adopted or his biological kid- it doesn’t matter to him, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the parentage of his kid...if he raises the kid then you better believe it’s his kid.

If your kid is adopted then here’s how I picture you guys becoming their parents

- During one of your expeditions beyond the walls you find (what you think is) an abandoned cabin in the woods. When you point it out Levi just tells you to ignore it and focus on the task Erwin gave you, but you have this weird gut feeling that someone is in there. While Levi is distracted you go off to the cabin and peek inside and to your horror- there is a small child, no older than a few months crying in it’s deceased mothers arms. You run over and pry the crying baby from the mother’s hands and immediately start trying to hush it’s cries

-Levi notices the fact that you’ve left his side after a few minutes of silence and he pinches his nose in frustration- of course you went to check out the cabin he told you to ignore. He flies away from the tree he was perched on and makes his way to the cabin to look for you- upon reaching the cabin his eyes widen from pure shock. Where the hell did you get a crying baby from? he can’t help but be filled with sorrow when he notice’s the child’s dead parents on the ground behind you- bandits had probably murdered them.

-The two of you have a huge argument about what you should do with the orphan child and this results in the two of you not speaking for over a week. But as the week goes on, he realizes that him and that baby are more similar than he thinks. Levi never had a father- the closest father figure in his life being Kenny who abandoned him at a young age, and his dear mother Kuchel who died of sickness when he was just a boy. Both Levi and the child didn’t have parents in their lives, fate cruelly ripping that away from them. He see’s himself in that baby.

-After a week of silence Levi storms into your office only to catch you asleep with the baby on your chest, his heart softens just the slightest bit at the image. He sits next to you and gently shakes you awake- careful to not wake the sleeping baby. Before you can even say anything he quietly states:

-”we’re not abandoning the baby, we can raise them together”

-All the worry and stress you carried melted away after hearing his words.

If your kid was biologically his, this is how I picture it turning out:

-The day Hanji informed you that you were pregnant was quite possibly one of the worst days of your life (sorry to be angsty) how the hell could you have gotten pregnant? the amount of stress, physical strain on your body and sleepless nights is not ideal for fertility- so how the hell did this happen?

-How the hell would you even tell Levi? The topic of children has never once come up and you’re sure he would never want to raise a child in the walls while titans destroy and kill everyone in sight. Besides- the two of you already have enough on your plates as it is.

- You’d tell him straight out that you were pregnant during your nightly tea time before bed, just straight up dropping the news on him. It takes a few seconds for him to fully register what you just told him but once he finally understands he drops his teacup, the boiling hot tea staining his jacket. All he can do is sputter like a fish out of water and aggressively try to clean the stain.

- I’m going to be realistic here- the last thing he would do is jump for joy and kiss you. I hate to be angsty again but realistically he’d probably storm off and go for a walk around the town while he tries to take in the news. I see him unintentionally ignoring you for a few days while he tries to accept the fact that the two of you are bringing a child into this world.

-After about a week he’s finally calmed himself enough to talk to you about the situation and what the best thing for the two of you is. Again, he isn’t happy that you guys are bringing a kid into this- but who the hell would be? but he sure as hell won’t take that out on the kid, he thinks that’s the most pathetic thing you can do as a parent.

-”look, our situation is shitty but I’m not leaving you to raise the brat on your own”

How he is as a father

- I’m not going to lie to you, he is not the type to coddle his kid or show them a lot of affection. To be honest he doesn’t know a single thing about parenting, the only “parent” he had taught him violence and then left Levi to fend for himself- but he does know that most children don’t grow up around violence so he refuses to be even the slightest bit like his uncle Kenny.

- 100% calls his kid brat, ankle-biter, kid...you name it- but he doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way because deep down inside he still has a soft spot for the kid. 

-He rarely ever shows physical affection to the kid because he just doesn’t know how, he never knew the affectionate touch of another human until you came along. That’s not to say that he doesn’t love his kid- he would sacrifice his life without second thought to protect them.

-He doesn’t realize how distant and cold he can be to his kid until he overhears them crying to you about how “daddy doesn’t love me” and his heart just shatters into a million pieces because he DOES love them but for the life of him he just can’t find a way to show it.

-Levi ends up sitting down with the kid and having a conversation that was long overdue (for reference the kid is now 7 years old) and he admits that he loves them more than anything for the first time.

-Your kid just stares at him for a second and blinks because this is the VERY FIRST TIME they’re hearing their dad say I love you- Levi nearly has a heart attack when the kid launches themselves into his chest and starts sobbing.

-For the very first time in 7 years this kid is finally experiencing the love from their father (besides awkward headpats) and the feeling is just so foreign to both of them that even Levi sniffles a little bit

-Levi silently rocks them back and forth while he rubs their back, the child’s sobs turning into soft sniffles. But what Levi says next shocks all three of you.

“I’m sorry for being a terrible father. forgive me little one?”

-You don’t know what shocks you more- the fact he apologized or that he called your child “little one” instead of the usual “brat”. The kid looks at him while wiping their tears away.

“you’re not a bad daddy. I love you papa”

-To this day Levi swears he just had watery eyes because of the dust but you know damn well they were fat tears rolling down his face

-After this incident Levi swears to himself that he’ll be a more affectionate father, a father who tells his kid that he’s proud of them, a father who their kid can rely on.

-He’s tough on his kid and never lets them slack off, he scolds them whenever they make bad choices and sometimes your kid says he’s got a stick up his ass (you lightly scold them but the two of you always end up laughing because it’s true) but your husband deeply cares for your child and does it so they can grow into the best version of themselves.

-Did I mention that he absolutely flips the fuck out when your kid brings home Eren’s kid to introduce you to them? You have to sit on him to make sure that he doesn’t strangle the poor bastard. 

“If that son of a bitch is anything like his father then they’re going home in a bodybag!” “Levi you can’t threaten them just because they’re Eren’s kid!” “Like hell I can’t! nobody is good enough for our child”

-Your kid quickly learns that they can’t bring their significant other home while Levi is there- unless they have a death wish. The two of you team up to keep Levi distracted for a few hours while the couple chills in your living room

-Your kid swears like a sailor (just like their dad) and Levi swears on his life that he’s not the one that taught them that.

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit! I don’t fucking know where they picked that up from!” *cue you looking into the camera*

-He’s so damn proud when he see’s his kid graduate at the top of their class. He doesn’t scream at the top of his lungs when your kid walks across the stage but he pulls them to the side after and congratulates them with a small smile on his face

“Good job. I’m proud of you, damn brat”

-Gives them one of his rare Levi hugs and the kid nearly drops the diploma in shock because “wtf dad never hugs me”

-You have to pinch his side multiple times during your kid and Eren’s kids wedding because he won’t shut the hell up with snarky remarks

“Say no goddamnit!” *you pinch him* 

“Ow son of a bitch! what the fuck Y/n?”

 “Would you shut the hell up and be happy for our child on their wedding day?!” 

“I would if our child had taste and picked someone el- OW FUCK!” 

“Shut the fuck up already and behave, Levi!”

-He grumbles while the rest of the former cadets and captains laugh at his sour look

Silly headcanons

-God could you imagine Levi and your kid sitting at the dinner table, it’s almost midnight and they’re arguing over a homework question neither of them understand. This is the night both of you hear your kid swear

“What the hell is this shit? Improper fractions are made-up bullshit”

“If you don’t know then how the fuck am I suppose to know?”

-It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop

“Levi come here for a second”

“Shit...finish this while I’m gone, brat”

-Your kid laughs their ass off while you pull Levi’s ear and drag him to your shared room

‘Yeah keep fucking laughing at your dad, brat!”

“LEVI!”

-An absolute nightmare when it comes to cleaning oh my god both you and your kid wanna kill him sometimes

“This shit isn’t clean, you wipe it down six times and then place it at an angle”

“Levi it’s a fucking T.V. Remote”

-The war ended years ago now and he tells your kid about all the titans he killed and the ass he kicked

“And then I sliced that ugly bastard titan’s head clean off!”

“Levi for someone who’s a clean freak your stories sure are gross”

-The noise the toaster makes when it’s done scares the shit out of him. He’ll be in the middle of scolding your kid and then he jumps because the toaster is done and your kid just thinks it’s comedic gold

“I fucking told you not to do that shit but you went and did it anyways, do you know how irresponsi-FUCK! damn toaster- Hey stop laughing brat I’m not done yet!”

That’s all I’ve got for now- stay tuned

[balillee]

I’m so sorry, I just need to yell at someone about this

c!TOMMY DOESNT ALWAYS MAKE HIS LIFE ABOUT c!TUBBO. HE DOESNT ALWAYS THINK ABOUT WHATS BEST FOR HIM, OBVIOUSLY.

SO WHY DOES TUBBO NEED TO CENTER HIS ENTIRE LIFE AROUND TOMMY. WHY DOES HE NEED TO FOCUS ON TOMMY AND HOW HES BEEN EFFECTED WHEN HIS SON IS LITERALLY ACTIVELY IN DANGER

and the people who say that c!Sam is actually a good guy because he cares more about Tommy or whatever, HE ABDUCTED A CHILD AND THREATENED TO KILL HIM. I am so confused…..Inniters love Tubbo when he shuts up and follows Wilbur, Ranboo, Tommy around like a puppy dog to be coddled and protected from the bad guys

i'm a tubbling by trade. i'm a clingyduoer by trade. tis what i do.

when ctommy is mad at cdream, he'll talk mainly about the stuff that dream did to him. he'll talk about exile, about blowing up l'manberg to fuck with him, he talks about stealing the discs, he'll talk about death and resurrection. he won't talk about what he's done to tubbo i think mostly out of a silent respect between the two of them that they can handle themselves and they'll come to each other when they need it and have each other's back no matter what. weirdly, today, i've gained a better understanding of their characters as a dynamic than i've had before.

ctommy doesn't mention the time he tried to murder ctubbo because it's not about him, and considering the tight wind tunnel most of ctommy's confrontations live in, there isn't much room for his panicked brain to think about anything else.

so you're very correct. ctommy and ctubbo, as much as they are the OG duo who have each other's back all the time, they're the unbreakable friendship and there's a special kind of love and friendship between the two of them, they're not conjoined at the hip. they have their own stories, their own traumas, their own priorities, and their own lives and they respect the fuck out of each other. they'll go to one another when they need it but they're not as co-dependent as previously assumed.

and to your next point, yes csam has his justifications but ultimately he has gone too far. giving tommy armour and vowing to protect him does not justify leaving him to die with a man he know stalked, kidnapped and abused him. even ctommy can recognise that. he doesn't like sam and he wants sam to do better and acknowledge he was wrong - that's usually the most ctommy wants out of anyone to acknowledge that they've been unfair or unkind or they've done wrong by him and should rectify that if they want to be a good person that he can stand by and defend.

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Skwisgaar's Psychology

After rewatching Metalocalypse a total of three times ever since the news of the potential finale movie I kind of had a realization; I really fucking love Skwisgaar. I also started by halfway through rewatch two realized that his story and background and general psychology is really fucking fascinating to me.

So I am going to do my best to discuss his character and his psychology and how we see him progress through the show....I already did this with Toki a while back and kind of would love to do it with Murderface and maybe Pickles as well, I'd say Nathan, but he's the....least fucked up in a sense.

Skwisgaar let's start has the most dialogue in the first couple of seasons of the show and even then it isn't overwhelming compared to the other members of the band. By season four he speaks very little and rarely.

When we are introduced to him in the beginning of the show he seems to be like the rest of the group; a diva spoiled rich rocker who has been grossly wealthy for so long that he's forgotten how to function as a human.

You also with the first season especially have this running gag that isn't even a running gag that Skwisgaar or Toki will say something weird and then the other will add onto it and they just say weird shit about life and death or the violence of man, it's weird, and strangely endearing.

Which speaking of how those two play off each other brings me to the fact the pilot episode immediately establishes that these two are almost always together. The band goes to a grocery store and everybody splits up, except for Skwisgaar and Toki who go off together when in all reality that isn't remotely necessary. We also learn in that first episode that Skwisgaar gets pissed when Toki teases him and calls him a woman despite Skwisgaar calling him one like a second earlier and also that Skwisgaar is sexually attracted to elderly women.

Two things are heavily associated with Skwisgaar as a character; he is extremely sexually active and he's got his guitar with him in 99% of scenes. Skwisgaar also doesn't appear to be the most talkative, he can be bitchy and throw tantrums like the rest of his bandmates, but also seems to be more prone to crying and becoming anxious or worried for his friends and their wellbeing/safety, in terms of socializing he seems to be a bit awkward and seems the most comfortable communicating through sex and music. He's teasing and can be a dick, but there's no real edge to it. He also while seeming in some regards to be a bit....dumb to be blunt about it seems to actually be rather smart, though often seems to just keep that to himself probably because he knows who his friends are and they aren't prone to listening to people.

Season one wasted no time in introducing the band's parents and this included Skwisgaar's mother, Serveta. One thing that I do find super interesting is that he is the only member of the band who comes from a single mother, technically it isn't interesting, but the theory (probably canon) that their fathers aren't really their fathers at all and that their mothers became pregnant by the Deth Star makes it interesting. To me at least.

With Skwisgaar's mom in regards to the first season of the show we quickly learn that their relationship is strained. She's an older woman who just like Skwisgaar is very sexually active, we see her come onto Nathan's father who is married and sitting with his wife and son, Skwisgaar's reaction to this is to get upset and begin frantically playing his guitar. Skwisgaar spends a good portion of this episode drinking and at one point saying that ever since his mom got there his stomach had been hurting and he'd just been feeling like absolute shit. When we see him bonding with his mom he's brushing her hair and looking like he'd rather be dead or any place else, seeing him helping her groom is weirdly a red flag to me.

We learn by the third season of the show that his mother is intensely vain and in love with herself, she resents Skwisgaar because being pregnant with him and giving birth to him ruined her 'perfect' body and I'm sure the years where he was too young to fend for himself annoyed her because it meant she couldn't party or have men over or run off whenever she wanted, something I get the feeling that changed when he was about ten years of age. In a bonus video that comes with the first season of the show you see interviews with the band on various random topics; one of the scenes that is...uncomfortable to say the least is when family is brought up. Skwisgaar begins to say something, but trails off and becomes visibly upset before saying he's just going to shut down for a while, Toki confesses some more physical abuse before also shutting down.

I'm going to take a guess that Skwisgaar only had his mother when he was growing up and she only had him, I'm sure she has parents and maybe even siblings and aunts and uncles, but it appears that she has absolutely no relationship with them and Skwisgaar most probably never met these people.

The walls of Serveta's home sport dozens of headshots of herself and a couple of pictures of Skwisgaar as a kid thrown up by the front door almost as an after thought. It's likely and most probable that Skwisgaar was thrusted into the position of caretaker and even a husband sort of position when it came to his relationship with his mom; given the task of looking after her, holding her hair back when she pukes after a night of drinking, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc. We know when he was about ten or thirteen years old he came home from school to find his mom having sex with two men, an event that scared him and led to him being chased by wolves and falling into a pit where if he weren't a demi-god he legit would have died. I feel like his mom reached a point with him where she stopped caring whether or not he saw her....personal life, perceiving him as an adult despite still just being a boy and also seeing him as somebody who is taking up space in her home and preventing her from having fun.

When she marries Tyr they're all over each other constantly....until Skwisgaar and Tyr become friends and begin spending time together, then she cheats on him. She was jealous that her latest man wasn't giving her constant attention and got angry at the concept of sharing him with her own child, which is super fucked up.

Skwisgaar throughout the show has a fake persona. He likes to pretend he in some way is like his mom; he likes to pretend he has his head up his own ass and doesn't need anybody but himself, he loves himself more than he could ever love another person. Which isn't true. At all.

I think that growing up with a narcissistic parent who emotionally neglected and emotionally abused him put him in a position where he had to shut down like that. He had to learn at a very young age that crying and yelling and being angry gets nothing done except maybe piss his mom off more, after finding his guitar he threw himself into music and appeared to shut himself off socially, preferring music over human interactions.

Music is something that Skwisgaar can rely on no matter what happens; he will always have a guitar, he will always be able to create music even if it is just for himself and nobody else. People come and go, people physically hurt you, people emotionally hurt you, or make you feel worthless. When we see the flashback to the night Magnus was kicked out of Dethklok Skwisgaar is faded into the background, almost like a ghost with his slumped shoulders and his hair curtaining his face as if he wants to just disappear. When they're auditioning for a replacement Skwisgaar is positive he doesn't want somebody else in the band, that they are fine just being four.

I think it comes from the fact he was terrified of repeating what just happened with Magnus, finding somebody he might think he can bond with over music only for that person to turn into a monster who makes him feel like he can't even do the thing he loves more than anything correctly....Then Toki came in and when they had their duel it quickly turned from a competition into a conversation. Because that's the one way Skwisgaar knows how to communicate, the way he is the most comfortable with; he likes to communicate through guitar and finding somebody who he could speak to through music excited him.

It's clear for obvious age related reasons that Skwisgaar has/had a care taker role where Toki is concerned. I mean he was about 15/16 when Skwisgaar took him into the band so he was a literal child, even when he's older Skwisgaar still looks out for him and is in his own sense immensely protective where he's concerned. Skwisgaar is also that way with the rest of the band even if it's more subtle. He worries about his bandmates, if they get injured or nearly killed it bothers him and he doesn't want anything to happen to them. When the band is going to break up he completely shuts down, because admit to it or not they had become the only family he ever had. I think Skwisgaar is so hard wired from his childhood to care for people that it's something he can't shake and maybe with the band he doesn't feel its a bad habit, because unlike with his mom, his bandmates arent forcing him to look after them. It's something he does because he wants to do it.

Of course in regards to his attraction to older women that definitely comes from issues relating to his mother....I don't think it's in a creepy Freud way, but more so just wanting to feel cared for back. Very obviously he can't exactly approach any of his bandmates and ask for a hug....well except maybe Toki and Pickles if he's super drunk or high, but outside of those two instances....they aren't people he could exactly just ask for validation or comfort or consolation. They aren't....good with that shit. Older women though usually have a tendency to be coddling and kind, Skwisgaar probably learned that as a teen or in his twenties, I think it's less about the sex factor and just feeling important. In terms of sex with people closer to him in age (I will die on the hill that he's bisexual, because he keeps just throwing it out there that he would blow a guy and he had multiple three ways with Melmord) I think it's a distraction for the most part, he uses sex the same way he often uses music, and honestly....He grew up seeing his mother have men over constantly.

Skwisgaar didn't grow up seeing love or healthy relationships, he saw his mom parade various men through the house and maybe she kept some of them for a while and I doubt the relationships were healthy and I'm sure he knew that his mother didn't love any man she dated or married for a short while. Even in the show he isn't fond of love or marriage, the only time he dates somebody is when he moves back to Sweden and finally starts to get his life together in a more healthy sense and that relationship didn't feel like it was based on sex. It was based on physical and emotional affection and it was the only time Skwisgaar ever looked actually happy in terms of intimacy.

Sex is a job, a chore for him; he's the God of Life so it's technically what....it's y'know his thing, creating life. As a lot of people notice....he seems far more sexually active after him and Toki's second fight in regards to music and petty bull shit. Season four is essentially the season where Salacia gets what he wanted aka the band tearing itself apart and you can see them all fall apart individually. For Skwisgaar falling apart means closing himself off, throwing himself more into his guitar and more into sex. He becomes more of a tool and an object as if that's all he wants to be, because being a person who opens yourself up and lets people in and tries to care about people ends up with you being hurt, badly.

Which does bring things back to his super complicated slightly homoerotic to the point even the show had to mention it for a hot second relationship with Toki.

We can gather from Doomstar that Toki was far more into music when he first joined Dethklok which I think worked out great for Skwisgaar, because as I said before; Skwisgaar communicates through music and this gave him somebody that he could talk to without the awkwardness of verbally conversing.

Though that changed clearly and you can feel that Skwisgaar is bothered by it, like in some weird way it feels like a minor betrayal. Toki notoriously never practices or puts in a lot of effort in terms of making music which Skwisgaar often comments on, complains about, or gets on him about. Reasonable. Guitar is part of who he is, but at the end of the day a talent that made him rich, that's what it is to Toki.....Skwisgaar on the other hand his guitar is literally an extension of himself and seeing him without a guitar in his hand for longer than a single scene gets weird.

Still despite the two of them losing the art of communicating through their music....they're close. Super fucking close. If you watch Metalocalypse and tell yourself going into the show that you're going to focus heavily on a single character or on a certain relationship you notice a ton of shit. Like you notice that Toki and Skwisgaar almost always sit together, stand together, talk over one another, finish each others weird sentences or ideas, copy each other to the point they spend an entire episode bickering like children over copying each other, and often spend their time hanging out together. Again. They're really close as if they're a single person split into two.

They're close to the point that inverse their fans just to some extent assume the two of them are fucking and madly in love and I mean I'm gonna be honest just objectively speaking here I would not be surprised to find out they have had sex before at least once or more times. Just saying.

That aside though and just sticking to the platonic here....They're close, Toki means as much to Skwisgaar as guitar does, and that's saying a lot. One big reason I want to bring up their relationship is that his relationship with Toki brings to light Skwisgaar's issues with death or more specifically death where Toki is concerned.

In season one when Toki has a bit of a breakdown and Pickles suggest they kill him, Skwisgaar looks tense and uncomfortable and says that he doesn't like the idea because it's a lot and it makes him feel not so good. In a deleted scene where the band watch Nascar together Pickles ask Toki and Skwisgaar if they were supposed to be dead or in jail or something because it's the same episode where they got shit faced and got into a high speed chase. Skwisgaar when responding about it changes the word dead/death out for sleep, stating they were supposed to be put to sleep but just had to do community service instead (Toki corrects that it was jail, not being put to sleep). In the deleted IKEA scene when Toki stressed says maybe the two of them should just kill themselves Skwisgaar immediately freaks out and later when they return to Nathan and Murderface they both look super emotionally fucked up and when Nathan ask if they had been crying Toki gets defensive and says no while Skwisgaar beginning to cry again says they had been crying. Then of course after Toki ruins Skwisgaar's reputation and becomes Magnus Jr. for a few weeks and ends up having a panic attack and making an ass of himself....Skwisgaar thinks he's having a heart attack and freaks the fuck out terrified that he's dying.

Then finally for a compilation of Skwisgaar not handling Toki dying well; in Doomstar before they go in to save Toki Skwisgaar makes the sorrowful comment that sometimes he wonders if they should have stayed a one guitar band. It isn't him being a dick, he isn't saying this isn't worth it. He's saying essentially that Toki was stabbed, kidnapped and possibly murdered and it's completely his fault; if he hadn't taken Toki in then none of this would have happened. Which immediately leads me to believe that post the funeral episode that Skwisgaar spent those months high and drunk and late at night blaming himself for Toki being taken/murdered. That's a lot of blame to put onto yourself and to say its your fault solely because a few years ago you took this kid in off the streets is honestly heart breaking.

Early on in the series there's an episode where Toki's pissed that he isn't seen as Skwisgaar's musical equal, he wants solos, and Skwisgaar turns him down. Which through the series and within that episode itself we easily learn why Skwisgaar never gives him a solo; Toki has performance anxiety and he never practices and quite honestly knows almost nothing about guitar. It's valid. Either way in this particular episode Toki gets pissed and decides he wants to take lessons, Skwisgaar offers and Toki turns him down because last time they tried...he kind of just ended up beating the shit out of Skwisgaar. (to be fair don't dump a bucket of blood on your friend's head) So he goes off and finds an elderly man to teach him how to play guitar, Murderface being a dick decides to tell Skwisgaar that Toki is super good at guitar now and.....Skwisgaar doesn't react well. He gets pissed off and has nightmares about Toki becoming better than him. He even confronts Toki and his guitar teacher and threatens to kick him out of the band. When he realizes at the end of the episode that Toki is still....really not great with music....he's chill again, everything is forgiven.

I kind of think that episode is a reason people perceived Skwisgaar as a dick or is one reason, but honestly he isn't being a dick. I mean sure, a bit, but they're all dicks. The thing is guitar is a crutch for Skwisgaar, it is super important to him and he doesn't know who he is without his guitar, without his music. So somebody else threatening to take that from him freaks him out and he reacts poorly to it.

Then we get to near the end of the show when the same issue arises except completely different. Toki again later in the series ask Skwisgaar for a solo and Skwisgaar annoyed refuses him, Toki being the mild psycho shit that he is decides to just kind of ruin his life as revenge. Again by this point in the show its kind of obvious if you actually pay attention at all that Skwisgaar keeps telling him he can't have solos because Toki never fucking practices and even in the studio Skwisgaar has to record most of the rhythm guitar parts. He's also known since Toki's audition that the kid is prone to choking up and making mistakes, so he's technically protecting him without just outright confronting him.

Toki writes a book calling out Skwisgaar as an abusive tyrant and an over dramatic bitch. Admittedly Skwisgaar is a slight diva and just like the rest of them can be a total asshole, admittedly to a lesser degree than the others. What's really fucking interesting for me personally about this episode is that Skwisgaar is catatonic and depressed for 99% of it. He doesn't speak. This starts literally the second that Toki releases his book saying that Skwisgaar abuses him, this is before Skwisgaar's career goes down the toilet, his career hadn't been impacted by this yet.

Skwisgaar falls to pieces because Toki, Toki who he's known since he was just sixteen and took in off the streets and they're always practically attached at the hip and have been since day one just released a book calling him an abusive monster.

I do have a feeling one reason this fucked him up is because he might be terrified that he's turning into Magnus without realizing it, that perhaps he has become an abusive monster and has been making Toki feel the way that Magnus made him feel towards the end of his time in Dethklok. I think there also is probably something soul crushing about the person you love platonically or otherwise referring to you very publicly as abusive. Of course all of this worsens when Skwisgaar's career begins to fall to shit, eventually towards the end when Toki is at the top of his ego trip being a prick Skwisgaar does confront him, that in itself is interesting.

Skwisgaar goes in way calmer than I would be in that situation, sure he gets pissed off as they bicker, but again he's waaayyyy fucking calmer than anybody else would be especially since Toki just yells at him through the entire conversation. Of course interestingly is that Toki perceives Skwisgaar in a way that isn't entirely true, he thinks Skwisgaar mocks him and thinks of him as nothing which isn't true at all, when he says Skwisgaar laughed at him he just responds that he never did that and he sounds slightly hurt by that. They're both hurt and none of these men are good with healthy emotions. Skwisgaar never loses his shit on him in the entire conversation, he looks like he could easily go ape shit but instead warns him that the audience will eat him alive the second he fucks up.

Which turns out to be true, Toki fucks up and people begin turning against him which leads to him having a severe panic attack. Like I mentioned before Skwisgaar thinks he's dying and tries to save him, scared out of his fucking mind at the concept of Toki dying. Which....the dude just spent several weeks treating you like garbage and calling you a monster who abuses him, if Skwisgaar was actually a shitty person then he would have laughed at him or mocked him or given him shit about this moment for years to come....but he doesn't do any of that. He is worried about saving him, probably terrified that if Toki dies then their last conversation was a fight.

Their dynamic changes a lot after this, not in a way that's overly obvious unless you watch it closely. They spend a lot less time together and what feels almost out of character initially in Dethcamp is....Skwisgaar easily going along with Murderface and bitching about Toki, because....again can't stress the Scandinavian dudes are always attached at the hip and now suddenly he's easily saying mean shit about Toki. It feels weird until you remember that not long before this they had a massive fight, Toki called him abusive and momentarily ruined his career and most likely afterwards tried to act like nothing happened at all while Skwisgaar probably wasn't capable of doing that.

Occasionally in season four Skwisgaar and Toki will sit together or stand together, still talk or have that physical closeness but it's far between and you see Toki spend a majority of his time with the toxic trio: Murderface, Rockso, and Magnus. Skwisgaar spends his time typically with Murderface and Pickles then near the end spends most of his time with Nathan.

Skwisgaar is a person who grew up in a home lacking affection and love or safety, he didn't grow up with examples of love or healthy relationships and as far as he's concerned relationships are a waste of time and energy because they all end the same.

Of course for as much as he says that, as they all say that....it's bull shit. He cares deeply about his bands and him trying to act near the end like Dethklok was just another gig it isn't, these people are his close friends and his only real family. Seeing Pickles and Nathan fall apart wrecked him and having Toki turn on him so easily gutted him. Skwisgaar is a super emotionally fragile person, he seems absolutely terrified of showing anger or aggression as if it's something he's never been comfortable with or learned when he was young gets you nowhere or perhaps there were men around who were violent and loud and it made him scared to ever be that way. He's the only one of the band we never see really lose his shit or be randomly aggressive and violent, he also strangely enough cries the most out of them canonically. People always make the assumption Toki cries a lot, but like canonically he cries waaayyyy fucking less than Skwisgaar.

I really find Skwisgaar interesting....clearly and this analysis might be a jumbled mess, but there's strangely a lot of things to unpack and things I probably didn't even touch on as much as I could have, because this is already insanely long. I have a deep appreciation of him rewatching this show now that I'm older and far more into analyzing works of fiction.

I hope that this was remotely coherent.

[tinysushimark]

My Everything (HRJ)

1.7k words. (Fluff)

Sometimes you wished you could run away from college and then run a café and live with your boyfriend.

You looked up at him, he was playing on his phone, why was he so relaxed? He has finals too next week. "Renjun! Don't you have to study?" You said.

"I'm done with my course." He said looking back down at his phone.

You sighed, he was always one step ahead of you, even when you were in school he used to teach you things because he was done. Now, even in college he was done before you. Even though you had different majors, you had the same college and fortunately, your classes took place in the same building.

A sigh escaped from your lips as you looked at the amount of chapters left. "What's wrong baby?" Renjun said, sitting next to you.

"I have 3 more chapters left, and exams are next week." You said. "Anything i can help with?" At this you snickered.

"Babe you're an arts major, how are you going to help me with Company Law?" You smiled and looked down.

"I am smart." He said.  "I never said you're dumb."

He stood behind your chair and started massaging your shoulders and neck. "Renjun what the-" He shushed you. "Get back to work." He kept massaging your shoulders.

"Renjun stop. That fucking hurts."

"You're stressed it's all pent up-"

"I told you to fucking stop it." You shouted at him, shooting a death glare.

"Why are you being so mean? I'm just trying to help." Renjun spat at you.

"You're clearly not helping, so how about you leave? You're just adding on to my stress with your completed course." You shouted at him.

He picked his bag up and slammed the door on his way out, making you flinch a little.

Asshole, that's the only word that came to your head once he left. His temper is very very short. Sometimes you wondered why you dated him and got annoyed at him. You had noticed how nowadays, the way he dealt with you had started changing.

He'd shout and slam doors. He never did that before but he was doing it nowadays. He is definitely bored of you and wants to break up with you, this is what you thought.

He on the other hand was very stressed, it wasn't about studies, it was about his family. After he left for college, he got to know about the fights which happened back at home. His mom and dad were fighting a lot more than when he was back at home. It had driven him off the edge that he wasn't there to stop his parents. He was an only child, so he'd end up persuading them to stop fighting, but he couldn't do it from here, in college. The only person who'd listen to him was getting annoyed at him too, you. He thought that he was the problem, probably everyone around him has problems because of him.

You weren't able to complete your course because Renjun decided to stay the nights in between semester and took you out so much. If he would've told you to study, you'd be revising by now. He forgot that you leave everything for him. He hadn't told you anything about what was happening back at home. He applied to the same college as you because he didn't want to lose you but he slowly understood that he was just a distraction for you.

Renjun didn't speak to you the entire week, and the week after that. You were done with your exams but still no contact or trace of Renjun.

You called him multiple times those weeks but he didn't pick up, knowing that he was probably busy revising, you left him alone. You needed the space.

After your exams were over you went to his shared flat, one of his flatmates saw you in an alleyway and smiled at you. "Mark, have you seen Renjun?"

"Renjun went to college, he must be back by now though." Mark said.

"Ok, thanks."

"If he isn't home, you can just wait on the couch, he'll be back soon I think." Mark said.

You nodded, bidding Mark a goodbye and walking to their apartment. Renjun had told you the password to the apartment, all his flatmates knew that he had a girlfriend and they didn't mind it. They were friendly and got along with you.

When you unlocked the door and got in you saw a girl in the kitchen, around the same age as you.

"Oh Mark you're back?" She said and turned around. "Hello." You said and she smiled at you. "Who are you by the way?" She asked you, the question took you aback.

"I'm Rejun's girlfriend." You said, her mouth formed a small Oh. "What's your Major and Year?"

"I'm a final year in BCom."

"I'm a first in year Mass Media. Oh by the way I'm Mark's girlfriend."  She said and passed a cup of coffee towards you. "Renjun isn't home, how about you wait here till he's back? He said he wanted to get some groceries." Mark's girlfriend said. She was younger than you and Mark. Mark was doing his post graduation and she was in her first year. You and Renjun were the same age.

When Renjun had moved in only Mark was living here, before another guy named, Jeno had moved in. You had found yourself a reasonable one flat apartment but slowly it's cost was rising which was a problem for you, but you kept living in it.

"We're looking for a flatmate." Mark's girlfriend said, trying to break the awkward silence. "Oh, where do you live?"

"The apartment above."

The both of you started talking about college and she told you details about the flat and the empty room. It seemed decent and you thought about it. "Can i see it?" It was a chance to be closer to Renjun, he wouldn't have to commute so much to see you.

Renjun came back home an hour after you had arrived, Mark and his girlfriend kept you entertained. They made you coffee and spoke to you.

When Renjun came home, you saw his red face, which was puffy.

He saw you and stood at the door frozen. Slowly tears started to fall from his eyes and your movements were quick. You ran to him and hugged him. He fell on his knees near the shoe shelves and you hugged him. He cried into your arms and you soothed his back.

"What's wrong Jun?" You asked softly. Instead you got a louder sob for a reply.

His grip around you tightened and he cried for a few minutes before pulling away and pushing your hair back from your face.

"My parents are getting divorced, and i thought i lost you because you lost interest in me-"

"Renjun I love you." You said hands caressing his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me about all this?"

"I didn't want to burden you, and I thought you'd get affected."

"Renjun, if it's bothering you and is a problem to you, it's my problem too." You said smiling at him.

"They've been fighting a lot lately, since i came here."  Renjun looked down at the floor. "I wasn't there to stop them."

"Renjun, its not your fault." You put your hand under his chin and made him look up at you. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"But I should've been there and because of me you weren't able to complete your course on time, its all my fault."

Your boyfriend who was almost a head taller than you, suddenly seemed like a small lost child who you wanted to coddle and sing to. He looked so troubled and sad that your heart hurt. It wasn't his fault, he blames himself for everything.

You remember the time when you were cutting vegetables and got a slight cut, he blamed himself for it, saying that he knew that you dont know how to use a knife so he should've been the one cutting the vegetables.

He was harsh on himself and as much as you believed you could change it, you couldn't but you wanted to.

"Renjun, its not your fault that i didn't study, it's my fault. That's on me."

"If I hadn't stayed the nights, you'd be done."

"Renjun you stayed over the weekends, i always had weekdays but i ended up wasting them, it's on me." You explained to him.

"What about my parents? That's totally on me. I shouldn't have left them knowing how hostile they are towards each other."

"If they were hostile towards each other did you ever consider that they were both stressed together. They didn't want to be together Renjun."

He finally looked at you, eyes dejected.

"I want to break up with you."

"Why?"

"I'm nothing but a distraction to you."

"You are my driving force. You're like a miracle to me. I wish you could see that."  You connected your foreheads. "You're the person i look forward to each day, knowing you'll provide me comfort and that you'll be there to listen to me."

"And i wish i could show you how much i feel for you, It can't be expressed in words." You whispered, planting a small kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on and  for keeping you in the dark." Renjun said.

You nodded. "You're not gonna hear the end of it, they annoyed me so much over the phone about who'll keep the pearls and me." Renjun said. "Honestly, your mom deserves the pearls." You said looking into his eyes.

A small giggle came from his chest. "Yeah she does."

That's when the door opened and Jeno entered. "Renjun, its dirty here-"

"Oh hi Y/N!"  Jeno smiled and waved at you. Mark slowly pulled Jeno, "You're ruining their moment dude." Mark muttered under his breath.

All of you laughed and ate ramen for dinner, enjoying each others company.

"Renjun, Mark's girlfriend told me there's a room upstairs that's empty. I was thinking i should move in there." You said when he brought you to his room.

"Actually, i was about to ask you if you wanna move in together, Mark wants his girlfriend to shift downstairs, we can have the entire apartment to ourselves." Renjun smiled. "Plus my house is closer to our college."

"Yes, I'll move in with you."

New beginnings awaited you two, all full of happiness and sunshine with a few rainy days, but no storm lasts forever, all of them pass, and bring along sunshine again.

Read More: Masterlist

[hotchley]

i’m not bulletproof

Jesus Christ why am I so dramatic? Okay, my laptop is very close to dying, so I am cross-posting this, hotchner’s hoodie and the waiting game, then I will be gone... until tonight

Umm... yeah. This was my second fic. It’s literally for my pinned because I’m dramatic </3

Trigger Warnings: referenced child abuse, canon-typical violence, violence towards children and references to child deaths, suicide

read on ao3!

It started, not with a case, but with an argument. 

Jack wanted to go to a party. Hotch said no. He said no because it wasn’t safe, and the party was taking place on a school night, which meant Jack had to be in bed by ten at the absolute latest. He had hoped that by calmly and softly explaining his reasons for not letting Jack go, his son would understand why he was being told no and accept it with the same grace and dignity that he accepted most things in life.

Unfortunately, his son was a hormonal teenager muddling their way through puberty. And instead of accepting he couldn’t go, he kept pressing and asking why. On the third day of being asked, Hotch got irritated and raised his voice slightly, it became an argument.

“I just don’t understand why you never let me do anything,” Jack complained.

Hotch looked up from the budget report. He hadn’t wanted to bring work home- a remnant of the life he had once shared with Haley, but it needed to be done and he had wanted to spend time with Jack. With hindsight, it probably would’ve been better to stay at the office and let him stay with Jessica to calm down.

“I let you do plenty of things that aren’t irresponsible or dangerous Jack,” he replied calmly.

“But this party isn’t going to be irresponsible or dangerous, it’s just a bunch of teenagers. And doesn’t it count for something that I told you about it? I could’ve just snuck out the house and let you wonder where I’d gone,” Jack said, wildly gesticulating. 

He closed the file. “I appreciate you telling me, but my answer is no. You may be responsible, but not everyone is. I don’t want you being exposed to drugs and alcohol before you’re old enough to understand the effects it has on you.”

“You let me be exposed to death before I was old enough to understand what it meant,” Jack spat.

Hotch paled, all the blood leaving his body and turning him into a frozen statue, unable to move as the memory of Haley’s dark hair- of course it was dark, she’d gone into witness protection- spread out on the carpet like a halo and her eyes, still open but almost like the glass eyes of those dolls from that one case, haunted his memory.

“What?”  his voice was soft, dangerously calm.

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “You heard me. You’re telling me I can’t go to a party, but I was just down the hall when mom died because of you. I’m not a little kid anymore, and you can’t protect me from anything anymore.”

“I can still protect you from some things,” he whispered, not making eye contact. The colours of the folder started to blur together as his eyes filled with tears. It was a morbid thought, but Jack’s words felt like the thorns his mother would throw in his side when she was angry at her husband and needed to let go of the pain.

“Well maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Jack, I’m still your father.”

“Are you? You’re never home at a normal time, you don’t know who any of my friends are, you always go on cases and leave me with Aunt Jess. Mom died because of you and your stupid profiling, but you still always answer when Miss Jareau phones, and you still go all around the country like I don’t even matter.”

“Of course you matter to me Jack. I love you more than anything in this world. But a profiler who catches the bad guys is who I am and-”

“I’m not five years old anymore. You’re not a superhero. You’re just the man that got my mom pregnant and sometimes makes me mac and cheese for dinner.”

Jack stormed off to his room before Hotch could say another word. He didn’t go after him, knowing that was the last thing his son would want. Rationale told him Jack didn’t mean a word of what he had said, that he was just angry and hurt, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all true. Of course Jack knew how to hurt him, what child didn’t know what would upset their parents, but he was also right.

He wanted to go and hold his son, to let him go to the stupid party and tell him he would stop being a profiler, but he couldn’t. He felt frozen in place, unable to do anything more than bury his head in his hands and wonder where he fucked up. 

Somehow he managed to get up and make them both something to eat- he went for stir fry instead of mac and cheese- before he went up to Jack’s room and knocked on the door.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” came the muffled response.

“I know you don’t. And I won’t make you.” I’m not your paternal grandfather, he thought. I won’t kick the door in and grab you by the back of your neck because you ran away. “I won’t let you starve though. Dinner is outside the door.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Hotch sighed. “Jack, please. I don’t want you to be angry at me.”

“And I want a real parent. We can’t always get what we want- isn’t that what you always say to me?”

Hotch had to step back, press a hand to the wall to stop himself from falling to his knees and crying. He wanted to tell Jack that wasn’t the way to speak to anyone, especially not an adult, but the words got lodged in his throat and he couldn’t speak, too scared of shouting or repeating the words his father had used the one time he had tried to fight back.

“I know,” he said instead, and walked back to the dining room. He pushed the plate he had set down away. 

His work phone lit up with Dave’s name. He answered.

“Hotchner.”

“Is everything okay? JJ tried phoning you but apparently you didn’t answer all three times. She thought you were with me, and when I said you weren’t, everyone got a bit panicked. In fact Morgan is on his way right now.”

Hotch felt bad for making everyone worry, especially given what had happened last time he hadn’t answered his phone and they had gone and looked for him. “I’m sorry. Everything’s fine. Do we have a case?”

He cursed himself for being stupid. Dave wouldn’t call if they didn’t have a case, even if all he wanted was for that to happen. For Dave to call once they had both gone home, just because he wanted to talk about something random.

“Yeah. It’s bad. Three kids have already been buried, fourth was reported missing twenty minutes ago. JJ will brief us on the jet. Morgan said he’s going to pick you up.”

Hotch was not stupid. He knew why Dave had said buried instead of killed. And whilst he hated the coddling, he couldn’t help but appreciate that he never needed to speak when it was Dave.

“Okay. How far away is he? I need to call Jess.”

“Garcia said ten minutes. She’s coming with us by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Aaron. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hotch ignored the warm feeling that came whenever Dave said his first name. “I’m fine. I promise.” He hung up before his answer could be profiled.

He had a short, polite conversation with Jess, then went to Jack’s room. He knocked to the theme of Harry Potter- Jack’s new favourite book series, courtesy of Reid. Whenever Jack saw Spencer, he came home with a glint in his eyes and a whole new shelf worth of books. And when Hotch went to chastise Reid for spoiling his son, Reid would give him the happy puppy eyes and he would relent.

“Let me guess. Aunt Jess will be here in twenty minutes, and you’ll call everyday. And you’ll hopefully be back as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry buddy.”

“Don’t go then.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Then don’t apologise.”

He didn’t have a response for that. Instead, he headed to his own room to change. He entered the code to the safe- the day Jack was born, the month he was born, the year Haley was born and holstered his weapons. 

Before he left, he tried to say goodbye to Jack properly. The bedroom door was locked.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said. The only acknowledgement he received was a grunt.

Morgan texted, saying he was outside. Hotch sighed, schooled his features into a somewhat neutral expression and headed down to meet him. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” he said, once they had started driving.

“No problem. I have to ask, why didn’t you answer?” Morgan responded. “And you know I don’t want to pressure you to talk or anything like that, but everyone was really scared. We thought something had happened. I mean, Rossi was ready to get everyone from the FBI to look for you.”

His stomach twisted. They weren’t meant to worry about him. “I’m sorry. I was with Jack.” It wasn’t a lie. And Morgan was respectful enough to not profile the truth.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. 

“We’re heading to Boston,” JJ said, once they boarded the jet.

Hotch nodded, taking the file from her, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach. Boston. One of those places he would never not associate with terror, blood and death. Just like Georgia. And Milwaukee.

“Over the past three months, three teen boys have gone missing from three different cities. They’re all pretty similar in appearance, all come from pretty similar backgrounds. All were found in their local parks. No evidence of torture or sexual assault. The only reason anyone made the connection was because of a conference, where two of the detectives spoke and realised something was up,” JJ explained.

Hotch nodded, feeling nauseous. He wished he had tried to force down some of his dinner. Then he opened the file and was suddenly glad he had skipped his meal.

For when he looked at the pictures, both from the crime scenes and of their smiling faces, all he could see was Jack. Dark blonde hair, light green eyes, wide smiles. He closed his eyes, focused on his breathing and looked back at the files. Focused on the victimology. Teenage boys, but no evidence of sexual assault. Mothers weren’t in the picture, either they had passed away or not received custody after the divorce. The fathers were all in high pressure jobs, most of them spending more time at the office than at home.

“Excuse me,” he said to no one in particular, heading to the toilet.

JJ gave him a concerned look but let him go without a word. 

To keep up appearances, he flushed the toilet and let the tap run to make it seem like he had actually gone to the toilet, as opposed to stare at his own reflection- tired, old, broken, absent father- and remind himself to maintain some sort of control.

Rossi was stood on the other side of the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Hotch nodded, ignoring the taste of bile in his mouth. He didn’t want Rossi to worry about him. He didn’t want anyone worrying about him, but especially not his best friend. Because every time he did, it only served as a reminder of everything he wanted but couldn’t have. The day he realised he loved Rossi had been terrifying, for a number of reasons. He had told Haley by accident, and she had laughed and said he was probably the last one to realise. She had told him to go for it, but he had been a coward and refused. It was another broken promise he had made to her. 

“Are you sure? Because you don’t look great. And you sounded distant on the phone.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a thing with Jack,” he confessed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to get to Boston and solve the case.”

He walked away, unable to stand the look in Dave’s eyes.

Things went from bad to worse when they landed. Hotch had gone with JJ to set up in the field office, only to find out that all four dads were already there and ready to give whatever information they needed to help the investigation. And with JJ talking to the detectives about how to handle the media, he was tasked with speaking to each of them.

He ignored the looks the officers gave him when he asked to speak to them in a conference room instead of an interrogation room. He knew none of them were responsible. 

After speaking to each of them, and promising to do his best to find the person that had taken their children from them, and bring the last one back home safely, he felt a pit in his stomach and a migraine starting to form. He had no idea when he had last eaten, or drunk anything, but he also knew he couldn’t handle anything.

Talking to the parents had made it almost impossible to remain professional. He saw himself in each of the fathers. They had all been working when their sons were younger, never fully prepared to tackle fatherhood alone. They had all argued with their sons just minutes before they were taken. When Hotch asked them how they felt after they argued, they all responded with some version of the word bad. When he asked why, all parents argue, they told him they felt like their own parents. It had been like staring at a mirror.

“My son died thinking I hated him,” the third parent had whispered. “What kind of person does that make me?”

Hotch softened his gaze and his tone, clearing his throat before he replied. “Your son didn’t die thinking you hated him. You’re nothing like your own father. All children argue with their parents. He knew you loved him and you cannot blame yourself for what happened. We’ll find the man who did this and bring him to justice.”

The man had just nodded before leaving. 

Hotch left the conference room, and was greeted by Rossi.

“Dave. I thought you were still at the M.E’s office.”

“We finished up there. You should listen to your own advice every once in a while.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, already brushing past him to go and talk to Prentiss about what they found at the last crime scene.

“Jack doesn’t hate you. No matter what he may say.”

Hotch turned, ready for an argument, when Rossi raised his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t profile you. But I am your friend. And the only thing that would make you this tense would be something with Jack.”

“Now is not the time to talk about it,” he hissed.

There hadn’t been any DNA found on the scene, which meant they only had a profile to go on. After a quick dinner, that he didn’t really eat, Hotch told everyone there was nothing more to do, and even if there was, they were all exhausted. Rather reluctantly, everyone headed back to the hotel, where it immediately became clear they would be doubling up.

“We can have a girl’s night!” Garcia exclaimed.

JJ and Prentiss laughed, but took the middle room, which for some unknown but helpful reason had three beds.

“Come on pretty boy, you can tell me all about that book you read on the way here,” Morgan said.

Reid’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Morgan nodded, taking the cards and slinging an arm around Reid’s shoulder. Before they left, Hotch called out for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“We forgot his birthday. Listening to him is the least I could do.”

“Not just for that. Thank you for coming to check up on me as well.”

“Hotch, you may be a drill sergeant, but you’re still my friend. And JJ may have yelled at me after she found out what I said to you about trusting people. We’re cool man.”

He nodded. “Go, Reid’s practically exploding with excitement.”

“You going to stand there watching them all night, or are you going to get some well-deserved sleep?” Rossi teased, suddenly behind him and pressing a card into his hand.

“You seem awfully chipper for someone who hates sharing a room,” he said as they went to the elevator.

“I don’t mind when it’s you,” Rossi said.

Hotch blushed, ignoring the way the words made him feel, ignoring the look in Rossi’s eyes that left no room for doubt, ignoring the way his heart sped up and the lack of space between them as they were crammed into a tiny elevator. 

They both dropped their bags down. Hotch immediately sat on the bed, knowing Dave would want to shower before he went to sleep. He smiled as his friend- because that was all he was, all he would ever be- left and opened up the case file. Yes, he had told everyone to go to sleep, but something was bugging him.

“You can at least loosen your tie,” Rossi teased from the doorway after he had showered.

Hotch turned and felt his throat go dry. He was only wearing a towel, hair still dripping. “I- what?”

“Tie. Loosen it. Actually, better yet, take it off. Go for a five minute shower. And then sleep.”

“Rossi, I can’t.”

“You can and you will. Don’t make me phone Jess and put Jack on the line.”

That convinced him to get a move on, but not for the reason Dave was smirking at. 

There was so much blood everywhere, but he couldn’t work out where it was coming from. He couldn’t move. He was completely trapped, the weight of a body on top of his. There was a flash of something silver and then so much pain. He couldn’t show any fear, but the pain, oh the pain, it was so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but scream. All that existed in the broken home of his mind was that pain and the fear and the terror and that sudden, blood-curdling, chilling realisation that this was how things ended; this was how he was going to die. But someone was calling his name, who would be calling his name that urgently, Haley had Jack and-

“Aaron!” Dave yelled.

Hotch’s eyes flew open and he tried to kick the duvet away, only to find himself tangled in amongst the sheets and blanket and why couldn’t he move, why was it so dark, who was touching him, where was Jack- he was working the case, he needed to save him-

“Aaron, it’s Dave. You’re in a hotel room in Boston for a case. Jessica is at your apartment with Jack. Breathe with me.”

“Dave,” he whimpered.

“That’s right. That’s good. Just keep breathing. It was just a nightmare.”

“M’sorry for waking you up,” he murmured, clinging to Dave’s t-shirt like a lifeline.

“Nonsense Aaron. We all have nightmares. Remember what I told you all those years ago?”

He did. It had been the first case he had worked with the BAU that had involved victims of abuse. He and Dave had been sharing a room when Hotch had the first of many nightmares involving cases. Dave had woken him up, given him a glass of water and told him the nightmares reminded him he was human, that he felt, and however scary they were, however the case ended, they had done their best. There was nothing to be ashamed of. 

“Yeah. That if I have a nightmare, I should remind myself of the people that love me and of all the good things I’ve done.”

“Good. So let me start off that list for you, because it’s a very long one. Jack.”

Hotch snorted. “He hates me. I told him he couldn’t go to a party because he’s not old enough and he said I wasn’t really his dad and that it was all my fault Haley was dead. I dreamt about him you know? Foyet. But it’s been two and a half years, I should be over this, shouldn’t I?”

“You’ve always been open with Jack. He knows what will hurt you, and that’s why he said those things. He’s angry. But he loves you. And as for Foyet? He stabbed you nine times. He killed your wife. You don’t ever have to move on, not if you don’t want to. But you have to learn to cope. Let us help you cope. Let me. I’m your friend.”

There was that word again. Friend. He hated it. He didn’t want Rossi to be his friend, not anymore, but how was he ever supposed to look him in the eye and confess that? It would ruin everything. Rossi would probably tell Strauss, who would fire him, and then he would have nothing. 

“Yeah,” he ended up saying.

“Besides, every parent bans their child from doing something. At least you haven’t told him he isn’t allowed to date until he’s thirty or explore his sexuality. And don’t give me that look, you know you would be okay so long as they were a good person and he was sixteen and being safe.”

“I guess.”

Rossi patted his shoulder and Hotch didn’t even try and pretend that the touch hadn’t made him tingle. It had been so long since someone had touched him- it was always him hugging Jack or touching his shoulder. He thought of that time Reid had talked about being touch-starved. Was he touch-starved, or was he just an adult with a schoolboy crush?

He laid awake for the rest of the night, unable to do much more than close his eyes for a few moments.

They found the unsub the next day. And they bought the boy home safely. But Hotch couldn’t find it in him to be happy at another case solved. Because it hadn’t been successfully, not completely. The unsub- a man in his mid-forties- had been abused. And when he saw those children, who argued with their fathers over something trivial, he had snapped. He’d wanted to save them from his own fate. When Hotch tried to explain that the fathers weren’t bad people, that the children didn’t deserve to die, he hadn’t listened. When he tried to relate, the unsub realised what had happened. And seeing no other way out, he’d turned the gun away from Hotch and to himself.

Hotch couldn’t help but shout no as the bullet released.

“Strauss approved us staying for one more night,” Rossi said when they got back to the hotel.

“That was nice of her,” JJ said.

“God, I need a drink,” Prentiss complained.

“We should all go for a night out. It’ll be fun. And I’m here for once, so I can’t even complain about missing out,” Garcia said.

“That’ll be nice. Reid, you’re coming, no excuses,” Morgan said.

Reid shrugged. “Sure, why not. I’ll remember every embarrassing thing you do, so just be warned.”

Everyone turned to Hotch.

“Come on sir,” Garcia pleaded.

“I shouldn’t,” he said.

“Hotch, if they’re making me go, then you have to come,” Reid replied.

“It’s one night Aaron. And you’re not a newbie anymore,” Dave said, placing a hand on his lower back to steer him away from the elevator.

He blushed, both at the incident that was being referenced and the placement of Rossi’s hand. 

“I’ll go if you don’t bring that up,” he reasoned.

Rossi nodded. Everyone else looked curious, but Hotch shot them all his famous glare, with a small smile to soften the blow. And then they left, still in the same clothes they had been wearing as they had packed up at the station.

Hotch had made it a rule that he didn’t get drunk in front of colleagues. He’d drink enough alcohol to keep them off his back, but he wouldn’t allow himself to become even slightly intoxicated when they were present.

Some cases made all the rules go out the window. It was the only defence he had for getting absolutely shit-faced.

At some point he had loosened his tie, so he didn’t really understand why Rossi was complaining so much as he pulled him into their room and started complaining about the way he dressed.

“If Garcia can come on a case wearing a cat-ear hairband, I don’t understand why you need to always need to wear a suit,” he complained after he got the shoes off.

Hotch grinned. “It’s like my superhero costume. It protects me from people finding out who I really am.”

“Wow you really are drunk.”

“Is it bad that I’m drunk? I told Jack he couldn’t go the party because of the alcohol and he said I was being stupid. Maybe he’s right. I am stupid.”

“Why can’t you ever just stick to being a happy drunk? Why must you always go from happy to crying?”

“Are you mad at me too? I don’t want you to be mad at me. I care about you too much. I don’t think I could stand it if you were mad at me. Not when Jack’s mad at me- did I tell you about that? I think I did. He’s mad at me, Haley would be mad at me if she could see me now, so I can’t have you being mad as well.”

“Haley wouldn’t be mad at you.”

“You’re wrong. She would.”

“Oh, really. Why?”

“Cos I told her I liked this person and she told me to go for it but I was too scared of being rejected and ruining the team that I didn’t. At least, that was I told her, which is the other reason she’d be mad. I semi-lied. I was scared of rejection and ruining the team, but I was more scared that they’d be like my father. He caught me with a boy once. Only once. I was too scared after that. It’s stupid though, this person is as far from my father as you could get.”

At the mention of the person, Hotch went back to being happy. Rossi smiled, still wrestling with the suit jacket, unwilling to make his friend move his arms lest he break the spell and made that smile vanish.

“You going to tell me about them or do I have to profile it out of you?”

“Wouldn’t do that,” he slurred. “Too nice to. Unlike Gideon. Gideon never followed the rules. But you- you may be a pain in the ass, but you follow the rules that matter like not profiling us and not pushing and not using our pasts to get to an unsub.”

Rossi snorted. “Thanks Aaron. It’s nice to know I’m not like Gideon.”

“Be weird if you were.”

“Why’s that?” he had got the jacket and the tie off. He untucked the shirt and unbuttoned the top one, knowing Hotch wouldn’t want any more than that done. 

“Cos I love you. I love your stupid notebook and your Italian cooking and your don’t-be-stupid voice and your stupid face and how you’re always nice to me, even when I’m being stupid. I love you Rossi, and I wish you’d love me too, even though I’m a mess who-” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a yawn.

Rossi had no idea what to say. He’d never come out to the team because there had never been a need to. Yes, he had three ex-wives, and only wives, but that was because he hadn’t been able to marry any of the men he dated, and times had been different then. He hadn’t wanted a long-term thing with any of them.

But now, Aaron was drunk and confessing his love, and it occurred to him that he did love the younger man. He had just never realised.

“I’m a mess who can’t get the voice of their father out of their head long enough to ask you out on a date,” he murmured, falling back onto the pillow.

Rossi opened his mouth, but Hotch was already asleep. He sighed, brushed the hair off his forehead and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Sleep well.”

The morning came, and with it, a pounding head.

Hotch woke up with a groan, immediately pressing his hand to his temple. 

“There’s aspirin and a glass of water on the night stand,” Rossi said.

Hotch blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “Wha- why do I need it? What happened?”

Rossi stopped, his coffee halfway to his mouth. Hotch looked away. Not the time.

“How much of last night do you remember?”

“We went to the bar. I- oh. I drank far too much. I’m sorry. Had the others gone by then?”

“No, but they all agreed to spare you the shame and not mention it. Do you remember anything else that happened?”

“You were the one to bring me back. And after that it’s all a bit hazy.”

“Do you want to try and remember or do you want me to tell you?”

Hotch paled. “What did I do?”

“You told me you loved me.”

Hotch fell off the bed trying to scramble away. He noticed that Rossi had left him in his clothes, thank goodness for small mercies, but the sheet got tangled in his legs. Rossi stood as he managed to stand up, his head still pounding and the light making his vision hazy.

He felt a hand on his arm and managed to force it off. “Just let me go, Dave, please.”

“No. We need to talk about this.”

“What is there to say? I told you I love you. But you’re this amazing, caring, funny, handsome straight person and I’m me. Please just let me go. I’ll file my transfer when we get back, but I can’t be here and watch as you reject me,” he said, walking towards the door.

“Aaron. Stop.” 

He froze. Rossi had never bossed him around, even when he’d been the newest profiler that was still learning the ropes. But god, there was something about his tone that made him want to fall to his knees and do whatever he wanted. He’d been still for too long, Rossi would have realised too.

“Turn around and look at me.”

Aaron wanted to resist, wanted to run out the door and never come back, but something in him- probably the part of his brain that was self-destructive- made him turn back. And the sight that greeted him made his heart stop all over again. Rossi didn’t look angry or upset. He didn’t look like he was about to hurt him or force him to explain why he was such a coward.

He looked happy.

“I don’t understand, why are you smiling at me?” he whispered.

“Because I love you too. I just never realised until last night when you were drunk out of your mind, terrified that I was going to reject you, that I realised all I wanted was to hold you against me, listen to the steady beat of your heart to remind myself that you were still here and never let you go.”

Before he could even process what was happening, Aaron had crossed the short distance of the room and had buried his head in his shoulder. Hesitantly, Rossi bought his arms around the younger man in an awkward hug.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Aaron confessed, staring at him with dark brown eyes, still full of the fear of rejection. 

“We can work it out together.”

“I don’t know how to get over my fear, or tell Jack and the team- and what are we even supposed to tell Strauss, she’ll fire both of us and what about all the other things, like dates and the romantic things,” he rambled.

Rossi pressed a finger to his lips. “We’ll work it out. But that’s not the concern for right now.”

“Then what is?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Hotch nodded, suddenly feeling shy. “I’ve only ever kissed Haley. I doubt I’ll be any good.”

“I don’t want good. I want you.”

Without another word, Rossi placed his fingers under Aaron’s chin and tilted his head up. It was a chaste kiss, barely more than a brush of lips, but Aaron felt his heart speed up and fireworks explode behind his eyes. This. This is what he had always wanted but never had the courage to ask for, and now he had it and he just felt… good.

“We need to brush our teeth,” he decided once Rossi pulled away.

“Agreed.”

“Dave, what are we now? Because boyfriend seems immature, and I plan on telling Jack and the team as soon as possible so don’t even try and suggest lover. And other half is stupid, we’re both whole people without each other.”

“I’d like to think of you as my partner. That’s what we started out as- don’t give me that look you know I’m right- and it’ll always fit us. You the workaholic drill sergeant and me, the agent turned author turned agent-author with three ex-wives.”

Aaron laughed. “I have no idea how that makes any sense but okay. Partners. I like that.”

“It makes sense because it shows that we’re both adults that can depend on each other no matter what happens.”

“No matter what happens,” Hotch echoed.

It was going to be a long journey to undo all the damage his father had done, but he was willing to work through it. He was willing to do whatever it took to let him spend the rest of his life beside the man he could now call a partner.

The team essentially worked it out the moment they got on the jet. JJ just shook her head fondly, Reid smiled and told them that if they needed any advice he was there, Morgan smiled and patted Rossi, claiming he had his work cut out for him, Prentiss actually hugged Hotch with tears in her eyes and Garcia squealed and told them she was going to knit them matching scarves.

It was nice. Unfamiliar and different and scary, but nice. Rossi sat beside him, close enough so their shoulders brushed every time one of them adjusted the way they were sat. Every time it happened, Aaron smiled and blushed a little.

When they arrived back at Quantico, everyone at lot happier than they had been at the end of the case, there was an unfamiliar car in the lot. 

“I haven’t seen that one before,” Reid commented.

“It’s probably just someone for Strauss. Let’s go, write the reports and go home,” Hotch said.

“Home. Sounds nice,” Rossi said.

Hotch went pink as Garcia cackled.

Since Emily’s return, it had become tradition for Garcia to sit with them in the bullpen as they did their reports, mainly to annoy them, and if she had accompanied them, to do her own report as she only managed to do them on the job when she was on base. They all headed to the sixth floor, everyone looking forward to the few days of down time they would have once they finished their reports.

It was still early- or was it late- enough for them to be the only people in the building. As everybody else set themselves up in the bullpen, Hotch and Rossi went up to their respective offices, Morgan still talking to Reid and Garcia about something. When Hotch walked into his office, putting his bag down with unnecessary force, Rossi winced.

“What’s going on?”

Hotch bit down the urge to say nothing. “Jack still doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Why don’t you try phoning Jessica then? Maybe he’ll change his mind once he realises just how much you’re willing to sacrifice for him.”

“Maybe.”

“And I know Morgan drove you in, so once you’re paperwork is done, you’re coming home with me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but this case must have hit close to home. I’m dating you now, which means I’ve signed up for the good, the bad and the ugly. I’m sure Jess would love to spend more time with Jack anyways.”

He knew trying to fight was a bad idea, and the thought of going home to an angry and hurt Jack was almost too much to bear. Did it make him a bad parent? Maybe. But he was tired and he wanted to give Jack space.

“I’ll give you some privacy to phone him then.” 

Hotch managed a weak smile, then dialled his home number. Jessica answered almost immediately. She sounded like she hadn’t slept and he wondered why he thought phoning her at three in the morning was a good idea.

“Hi Jess. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It was a bad case that’s all. I should let you sleep. I’ll be back in the morning, well later in the morning so you can go once you’ve had breakfast if you need to do anything.”

She laughed, and his chest tightened. Her and Haley had been nothing alike, but when they laughed, it was like they were the same person. “It’s okay. I’ll stay for the whole day and let you get some rest. Jack, what are you doing up? Okay, get your water and then back to- actually do you want to talk to your dad?”

He heard Jack say no. Jessica made a few uncomfortable sounds.

“Jess, it’s okay. He doesn’t have to talk to me if he doesn’t want to. I get it.” He got that he was a useless father, that Jack had every reason to hate him and he didn’t understand why it had taken so long for him to start. He understood that he had failed to protect Jack and Haley, and that nothing he did now was going to ever make up for it.

“Are you sure? He’s gone back to his room but I doubt he’s sleeping. I can talk to him if you want.”

“No, just leave him. He’s allowed to be angry.” Because if you speak to him, you will stop seeing me as the angel Haley loved all through high school. You will stop seeing me as the man who has lost everything and start seeing me as the man who can’t be there when his son needs him, and the man that got your sister killed.

“If you’re sure. But before you go, just listen to me. You’re a good parent. And whatever Jack said, he doesn’t mean. He’s a hormonal teenager going through puberty. He loves you.”

“I know.” But did he really love his father? “I’ll see you in the morning then. Bye Jess.”

“Bye Aaron.”

Aaron. Sometimes he wondered where the lines between Hotchner- god, how he hated his surname, forever tarnished by the memory of his father and everyone in their small town who thought that little Aaron Hotchner was just the quietest little boy, just like his mother yet somehow the spitting image of his father, Hotch: the stoic leader that could be trusted with everything and somehow not collapse and Aaron: absent husband and father, the man that had loved and failed Haley, Kate and even Elle existed. 

Sometimes he just felt like that little boy, curled up in the basement of a house that never felt like home, wishing he could just let go and cry for once. But he couldn’t. Not when he was aware that the team were watching him instead of doing their paperwork.

He finished it in record time, unable to look at the images of smiling teenagers for any longer than was necessary. 

Dave was already waiting for him. Everybody else had gone home.

“Are you ready?” Dave asked.

Hotch nodded, unable to trust his own voice after having to read through everybody’s accounts of the victims, their parents and the unsub.

They drove to Dave’s in silence, Aaron having texted Jessica he was going to a friends but would hopefully back by late afternoon. He wondered again if he had made a mistake by letting Dave in. It would only be a matter of time before he realised Hotch was damaged and nothing in the world would fix it.

“Aaron, we’re here.” The sound of Dave’s voice, suddenly soft and gentle, lured him out of the darkness of his mind.

He got out of the car, still not knowing what to say. He wasn’t like Reid, who would rattle off statistics about any given topic when he was nervous. He wasn’t like Garcia who would keep digging a deeper hole when she was in trouble, or Morgan who managed to charm anyone with a few words.

Dave’s house, despite its size, had always felt homely. When staring at the wall where the bullet hole had been did more harm than good- and who was he kidding, that had been every time he’d sat there, surrounded by files- Dave’s house had always been a safe haven for him.

“I’m going to make some light breakfast and then try and get some sleep. Do you want anything? And don’t say coffee, I’m not letting you do anymore work until you get some rest.”

He shook his head, already sat on the couch.

Dave sighed, but he didn’t push the issue. Before he could leave, Aaron turned to face him.

“Dave?”

“Yes?” he was already in the doorway, minutely turning to see him properly.

“I’m having a bad day,” he whispered.

Rossi froze. Aaron Hotchner did not admit that easily. Only to him. Only when he was moments away from falling apart. He did not know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that he was the only one trusted enough to piece him back together. He did not know whether or not he could do it this time. Things were different. He had only ever had to do this as a friend, or as a colleague. Never as partners- and wasn’t that ironic, he was the one to suggest the label but now it didn’t seem significant enough.

He walked back over, sat beside Aaron. Close enough so their feet- Hotch hadn’t even taken his shoes off- brushed, but far enough to let him move away if he wanted. He didn’t. He shifted closer, resting his head on Dave’s shoulder. Dave raised one hand to gently stroke his messy hair. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m meant too, aren’t I? Haley always used to say there was no point in being together if I was just going to hide from her every time I had a bad day. I know she was right, but I just don’t know how to talk about it. It’s stupid anyways.”

“Don’t do this. Don’t act like your problems aren’t as important because you’re supposed to be an alpha male. That’s only at work. Here, we’re just Aaron and Dave, two old men who never learned how to communicate properly, so they’re muddling their way through life.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re here. And I’m scared you’re going to leave, just like everyone else. I’m scared that the ghosts of my past are going to be too much for you to handle and that you’ll get tired of waiting for me to be comfortable around you. I’m scared of ruining what we have with my nightmares and scars. I mean, I have a son who’s a teenager now. You never even wanted kids. And I know it’s stupid, but I’m scared I’m never going to be able to repair my relationship with Jack. We’ve never argued before. I don’t know what to do. My father would hit me if I dared speak out of turn. I never learned how to be normal. What if I hurt him?”

He had curled into a ball, his legs pressed against Dave’s stomach. His voice had started shaking, and Dave felt a wet patch forming on his shirt.

“I won’t leave you, ever. We’re going to have problems, but I won’t leave, and I will spend the rest of my life waiting for you to be comfortable around me if I need to. I have nightmares as well, we can keep each other up. I love Jack and he loves you too. I have no idea how to be a parent, but you do. You would never hurt him. And I’m sure Jessica has already told you this, but he’s a teenager. You’ll know what to do when you see him. If you don’t, just ask him. He wants to be there for you.”

“Thanks Dave.”

“I love you Aaron. You never need to thank me. Now move off of me so I can take you to bed. You need a good night’s rest.”

He obeyed. Neither of them were about to believe Dave was strong enough to carry a fully-grown man to bed, so Hotch forced himself to stand and let Dave lead him to the master bedroom.

“You’re practically asleep already. I’m glad. Would you let me undress you?”

Hotch hesitated, but nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” he whispered.

“I’m so proud of you. If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will.”

He started shaking as Rossi pushed his shirt off his shoulders, the final layer of armour stripped away from him. He closed his eyes, the tremors only stopping when Rossi pressed their foreheads together.

“You survived. You survived them both. And there will be more, there always is, but I will be here to catch you. Believe that.”

Aaron nodded, tears falling onto the duvet. He couldn’t express how glad he was that Dave wasn’t spouting some bullshit about how the scars on his torso and the lines on his back made him even more beautiful. He didn’t know how to say that though, which he was coming to realise the beauty of their relationship: they just knew.

Rossi was tucking him, having successfully changed him into pyjamas without any incidents when he realised he needed to address something from earlier.

“You’re wrong, you know that right?”

Rossi laughed. “About what?”

“Earlier. You said you don’t know how to be a parent. You do. I see it in the way you tease Morgan, curse at Prentiss in Italian, protect Garcia and JJ, listen to Reid and the way you treat Jack and Henry.”

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek, then left. There was one more thing he needed to do.

Aaron awoke when he heard voices. It took a moment for him to realise where he was, but when he did, he smiled. Dave hadn’t left. He left the room, trying to find the source of the voices. The search led him to the same couch where he had started crying only a few hours ago.

“Jack!” he exclaimed. 

Jack launched himself into his father’s arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff, it isn’t true and I love you. I won’t go to the stupid party I swear but please don’t be sad. Uncle Dave told me the censored version of your case. He also told me that you two are partners and I’m really happy about that because he’s cool and I have a vague memory of mom saying you were silly for thinking he didn’t like you-”

“Buddy, it’s okay. Sometimes people argue. I still love you too. And yes, Dave and I are together now but you’re still my first priority. You always will be. So if you need me to take less cases or spend more time at home, then just tell me. We don’t need to let it explode like that.”

Jack looked sheepish. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re my son. You’ll never be a burden to me.”

“Do you promise?” He looked so much like that little boy who believed his father was a real superhero that Hotch could only nod his affirmation.

“Will you stay for breakfast? Jessica dropped Jack here, but she said she’d go to give us some time alone and apparently he only ate a single piece of toast,” Rossi asked, almost nervously.

“Please can we do that?” Jack added.

Hotch nodded, letting go of his son. “Did you want any help?”

“No. Just go sit at the dining table and look pretty whilst you talk to your son,” Dave said.

Hotch flushed but obeyed.

Dave watched as Jack launched into a conversation about the pretty girl in his class and the tension Aaron had been carrying for far too long finally bled off his shoulders and saw as he went from FBI agent to loving father, eyes crinkling as he finally, genuinely, laughed.

There would be bad days. There would be arguments and reckless endangerment. There would be ghosts that would never leave them and fears that couldn’t be destroyed. But Aaron was smiling. And for one David Rossi, that was enough.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

You Knock Me Out, I Fall Apart

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“I do not have a concussion. You’re simply so irritating that it makes my head spin.”

“Alfred, tell him he has a concussion.”

“Master Damian—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Pennyworth. I’m fine.”

Dick tugs off his cowl, his sweat-soaked hair flopping back into place. He’ll never get used to the hundred-pound leather batsuit; he has no clue how Bruce managed to feel more comfortable in this thing than in his own skin. It’s like wearing a sweaty head-to-toe smock. “Stop being difficult about this, Damian.” “Stop treating me like a child,” the literal child challenges. “Sorry to break it to you, but you are a child.” Damian rips off his own mask as he stomps through the Batcave, shoving past Alfred like his anger has eaten all of the polite genes in his body. Or maybe he’s thrown more off balance than he cares to admit. “Fuck you.” Dick sighs. “Alfred, will you please check his head? He got hit with a baseball bat on patrol. I think he has a concussion.” “I do not have a concussion. You’re simply so irritating that it makes my head spin.” “Alfred, tell him he has a concussion.” “Master Damian—” “Don’t finish that sentence, Pennyworth. I’m fine.”

Damian doesn’t even bother properly putting away his costume. He throws his gloves and cape on the ground as he goes upstairs, leaving the pieces of his costume to be picked up by someone else. Dick is still working on teaching him the whole “respect” thing. Dick rubs the back of his neck, massages out the cricks. He’s so exhausted wrangling this kid day in, day out. They’ve only been patrolling together for three days and it’s a constant battle to reign Damian in, keep him from doing something he’ll regret. Dick understands how Damian is feeling. Of course he’s hurt over his father’s death, no matter how little time they had together before it happened. Dick gets loss, knows exactly what it’s like to lose a parent at a young age. And he wants to help the kid, but he’s woefully out of his depth here. He’s never done this before. Even with Jason and Tim, Bruce was the primary mentor/father figure. Dick was just the cool older brother who gave good hugs and was always around to talk shit about said mentor/father figure. Now Dick is the mentor/father figure. He’s not cut out for this. “I’d advise you to be patient with the boy,” Alfred tells him. “He is going through a loss, just as you are. Not to mention the violent tendencies he is still overcoming.” “I’ve been patient. He’s just not getting it.” “Need I remind you that you posed your own challenge when you first came to live with us? Master Bruce must have spent weeks breaking down your walls and getting you to open up to us.” Dick rolls his eyes. “I was never this difficult when I was Damian’s age.” “Trust me, you were. But Bruce adapted. He realized that if he wanted to get through to you, he needed to work with you, rather than against you.” “And that worked?” “With time.” Alfred puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Be gentle with him. Damian may be an assassin, but beneath all that he is still a boy who lost his father. Keep that in mind when you talk to him, hm?” He hands Dick an ice pack. “Good luck.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damian is perfectly fine. No one in the League of Assassins ever took a day off because of a little concussion, if it even is that. He sits on his bed, having changed out of his Robin uniform and into some pajamas. He was about to brush his teeth, but his head is spinning too much to stand at the moment. It feels like he’s on a carnival ride, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He can get stabbed five times and not break a sweat. He can handle a small head injury. Then, like it’s teasing him on purpose, his stomach cartwheels and Damian goes pale. He bounds up and runs to the bathroom. He makes it there just in time to vomit, retching up his pre-patrol dinner. Someone knocks on the door. “Damian? Are you okay?” Damian chokes on bile, willing the dizziness to subside. “Go away, Grayson.” There’s a sigh on the other side of the door. “I’m just trying to help.” “I don’t”—Damian pitches forward and vomits again—“I don’t need any help.” How many times does he need to say it? He was just fine before Grayson decided to meddle in his life, acting like he cares. The nausea eventually passes. Damian stands on shaky legs, squinting against the brightness of the bathroom. When he leaves he finds Grayson sitting on his bed with an ice pack and a bottle of ibuprofen. “How are you feeling?” “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not.” Dick holds out the pills. “Here. For the headache.” “I don’t have a headache.” Even though he does. “Humor me.” Reluctantly, Damian takes the pills. Not because his head hurts badly enough to warrant painkillers, of course not. But if he gives in, maybe Grayson will stop whining and leave him alone. He just wants to go to sleep. The lights in here are even brighter than in the bathroom, but to turn them off while Grayson is still here would be broadcasting his weakness. Damian climbs onto the bed, keeping a safe distance. Grayson tries to give him the ice pack, but Damian swats him away. “I don’t need that.” “Your head hurts.” “I can handle it.” Grayson sighs again. “Just let me check your head and make sure it’s a minor concussion. Two seconds.” “I’m fine.” How many times does Damian need to say it? “You’re not.” Damian’s eyes narrow. “Don’t try and tell me what I’m feeling. My well-being is none of your business.” “Actually, it is my business. We’re partners now, which makes your health my responsibility. That’s how being Batman and Robin works.” Damian scoffs. “Don’t pretend that being Batman gives you any real authority. You aren’t anywhere near my father’s level.” “I know I’m not, but I’m trying my best. If we’re going to be a team, then I need you to meet me halfway.” Damian can’t help but snort. “Suddenly we’re a team? If you really trusted me, you would believe me when I say I’m fine. You wouldn’t coddle me against my will, treating me like a helpless child.” “You are a child, Damian. You’re a ten-year-old boy. Like it or not, you’re a child. And right now, my job is to keep you safe. That means making sure you’re okay whenever a thug with a baseball bat whacks you in the skull. That’s my job.” “I can take care of myself!” “No, actually, you can’t! If tonight is any indication, I can’t trust you to look after your own health. And I know I’m annoying and the worst person on the face of the earth for daring to help you, but kiddo—” Damian’s head snaps to face him, his body going rigid. “Don’t call me that. I am not your son, and you are not my father!” Dick flinches like he’s been struck. “That’s—Damian, I’m not—” He stops. Closes his eyes, takes a breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, quieter this time. “I’m not trying to replace your dad. Our dad. That’s not what I want.” “Whatever.” Damian pulls his pillow over his face, trying to drown out the sights and sounds around him. “Just go away.” For once, Grayson allows himself to be stern when he says, “No. We’re talking about this now. Take off the pillow and look at me.” For some absurd reason, Damian finds himself obeying. It’s the first time Grayson has shown to have anything resembling a spine in the last three days. “I’m not Bruce,” he says. “I couldn’t be him if I tried. But just because Bruce is...because he’s gone, that doesn’t mean we’re going to forget about him. I will never forget him for as long as I live, and I know you won’t either. You deserve to have your father, and I know exactly how you feel now that he’s gone. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. I’ll be whatever you need, if that’s a brother or a mentor or a Batman.” He looks into Damian’s eyes, open and sincere. “I promise you, Damian, I will never take your father’s place if you don’t want me to.” Damian keeps his expression carefully unchanged. “Good.” “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to guide you and keep you safe however I can. So, how about this: I won’t try and take Bruce’s place as your dad, and you let me help you when you need it. Like when you have a head injury, for example.” He sticks out his hand. “Deal?” After a moment of deliberation, Damian shakes his hand. “Deal.”

[yconic]

"Divorce is a special kind of pain. It's like death without a body, " is what they say when two halves of a whole heart separate.

Tony never understood when he was younger, never extended the notion of two people who gifted each other to eternity in union splitting up beyond 'Just not talking for a bit.'

He looked at it from a small perspective belonging to a small person, as if the people in question were just two good friends who couldn't decide on what game to play, hurt each other, and needed space.

His parents had done it more times than he cared to count. The frigid silences and artificial prompt politeness between the socialite power couple Howard and Maria Stark could last for two days, or two months, depending on how deep the issue picked out that time ran.

Tony sat straight as he watched the clock tick away, dutifully counting the hours that would bring Maria closer to home from whichever elicit travel affair she filled her time with while Howard closes himself into his workshop, stewing in anger and bitterness that leak out from the door he's not permitted to trespass.

He learns to measure the gravity of their squabbles, - If it's a small argument, Maria picks Germany, France, or Spain. She sends a letter stating the duration of her stay. She sends Tony well wishes, with a touch of formality for a mother, and her name is elegantly plastered on the bottom in cursive.

When Howard fucks up, she picked China, Britain, or Italy, and she disappeared from the earth until she emerged at her like. Howard is Howard, - the relationship between him and his son was too cold for Tony to tell how his father was like without the disdain gleaming in his eyes, but the liquor cabinet always needed at least a daily refill after a spectacular drama.

He looks back at those moments and realizes, with a shade of pity coated in something more sour, mellow but active, that divorce was never an option for them, the cycle of co-dependency and maintaining legacy had to be kept no matter how demanding that task was.

He can't bring himself to be angry when he feels so bad for them. All that money, and they couldn't buy a second of peace.

It doesn't take long for him to realize his parents don't love each other.

Tony was young, but he was never a child. He was naive, gullible, innocent, - but he was awake. While he didn't clearly understand what love was, he looked at the unhappy frowns on the miserable faces of the pair and thought: 'If that's how love looks like I want no part in it.'

He doesn't love people for more than one night, - A full week if their company was good enough to distract him from the rich golden color of his whiskey that gradually tastes bitter, and more bitter every time. It's not love, he knows, - He keeps that special for his family. But the kind of feeling he has with strangers, with nobody's with a name, resembles what he knows of love too much for him to change meaning.

He won't know how "love" feels like. He refuses to be the caged bird his mother was, to take form in the monster Howard let himself become.

Then, life gives him Steve.

He nests into Tony's life like a storm with skin, hair kissed by sunshine and eyes filled with an ocean that the brunette longs to sink into. He has a boyish charm to him, an old soul that swoops Tony off his feet. It makes him want to slow down, even if he belongs to the future, to activity, to progress. He wants to sit and listen to the stories Steve has, told in a Brooklyn swird that gives character to every word.

Steve looks at him like Rhodey told him all people should look at him. 'Like they can't see the status, or the money, or the power. Like they just see Tony, and nothing more. Because Tony will always be enough. ' Steve looks at him like he hangs the moon for him.

Tony never stood a chance. He looked at Steve, and thinks: "Oh, shit. He's It for me."

He just knows that this one, this Captain, decorated to the teeth, hiding in awkwardness at this petty mingling, social climbing Gala, lowering himself at the bar because he didn't know anybody, was made for him. And if Steve clings to Tony the whole night, he agrees with the parallel drawing out on his part.

He doesn't leave Tony's side, arm snug and comfortable around his middle like they've known each other for longer than time itself, and Tony loves it more than he has the courage to say.

Steve looks at him when the epilogue of the night strikes, too soon for either of their likings. He's tall, broad-shouldered, strong but has the softest eyes in the world. It hurts Tony to arch his neck to stare, but he doesn't want to miss a thing. "I've... I didn't laugh like that since I was in tour. You made my night, Tony."

"It's nothing, -" Because it really is. Considering the sins to his name, the least he can do to atone some mistakes is make as much people as happy as he can. And Happy is a great look on Steve.

He does learn one thing: When Steve says something, it stays how Steve says it. "No, its everything, Tony. I didn't smile once since coming home, " he croaks, like the confession pains him, and Tony aches alongside him. "Everyone is worried about me, saying that, that I seem upset, or sad, or just, never happy anymore, but how else am I supposed to feel?"

"You can't let others tell you how you feel, " Tony soothes, without thinking, a hand softly brushing against Steve's cheek. A frisson zaps through him at the feeling of the soldier's stubble spiking his skin. Steve leans into his touch like it's the most normal thing in the world. Tony's heart grows. "It's not even in your control, so why should it be in theirs? " He understands how Steve feels. More than the world would care to listen.

"Exactly. So, if it's not too much trouble, " his shyness compliments Tony's smitten. "Would you mind making me smile again?"

Tony is, utterly, indubitably, irrevocably, without a shade of doubt, fucked.

He smiles anyway. "You know, soldier, I think I could pull some strings."

---

Their love is like rain in June. It's mellow and distractingly peaceful, makes their worry and everything that ever went wrong scarce away. They can breathe around each other even when they feel like drowning. For once, Tony feels like it'll be okay.

But Life decides to do what it always does when Tony finds something good. It takes, and it takes, until there's nothing.

Steve tells him about Bucky. About the fallen brother that vanished in the mission that stole everything for Steve. "Only one soldier fell off that train, but two died that day, " God, Tony is so worried when Steve talks like that. "It should've been me. I wanted it to be me."

Tony listens and he pictures Rhodey falling. Steve loved Bucky in ways he couldn't even hope to understand.

It turns out, Death is not something so permanent after all.

It's a lovely night for them when Steve gets that call. He's wrapped around Tony and holds him in his arms as if he'd rather go to war again than let him go and Tony's heart never beat so loud for anyone. He would have never let Steve answer if he knew that phone call was the beginning of their end.

Bucky's alive again, is reborn from snow and war and ashes. Broken, but alive. Held captive by terrorists and is unmade, undid, but still alive. Everything around Steve is lost after that.

Tong gives him space and resources, help, support, he gives everything to Steve like on their wedding day. He gives him his care and gentle hands and soft words and love with a heartbeat. And Steve is just... Too preoccupied looking at Bucky to notice. Tony feels like a selfish bastard for wanting his soldier to look at HIM instead of coddling his friend at every moment notice.

He wants Steve to stop suffocating Bucky when he already looks like he's just inhaling instead of breathing.

He wants his husband back.

That's why he deserves what's coming to him. That's his punishment.

They drift apart slowly, as most terrible pains start.

Steve starts spending more and more time around the mental help facility Bucky asked to be enlisted into after his hasty return that had everyone clutching at their pearls. He wants to do it alone, Tony figures easily, starves for a journey he wants to walk himself, for the kind of autonomy only a man who lost it for too long craves.

His bitterness aside, Tony marvels at how similar they are. Maybe In another life, he and Barnes would've made a handsome pair of kindred souls.

Steve doesn't agree. He looks sickened, struck even, at Tony for having the Gall to suggest maybe Barnes would be more responsive if he talked with someone who had mirroring experiences. "God, Tony, you don't... You're not a soldier. You're just a man. You've been through pain, sure, but not like Bucky. No one went through what he did. I'm honestly speechless you ever thought you could compare."

Steve says that, it's why it hurts so bad. The man who swore he'd walk back into the hellfire of war just to find the people who hurt Tony and tear them apart.

The man who couldn't be moved by anything. No nightmare, no night terror, no panic attack, no argument. Nothing convinced Steve to leave. He stayed through it all.

The man who cried relentlessly when Rhodey walked Tony down the alter because 'He couldn't believe how lucky he was to marry someone so beautiful.'

The man who hasn't written Tony a love letter every morning like he used to do in over a year.

The man who spent more time sleeping in hospital rooms than in their bed.

The man who used to not go even one day without saying "I love you". Tony can't even remember the last time this sentence was spoken between them unless he said it first.

The man who agreed to couple therapy, then acted like it rained the next day.

Tony would will himself to shove this under the rug. To put a blind eye to it, to make it work, to ignore Rhodey's disapproval and Pepper's warm worry, to push away the pain blossoming in his chest, threatening to overspill.

But this man adopted a child with him.

---

"That one" Steve points to a small boy, thin but sturdy-looking even in the hand me downs from the orphanage, short limbs supporting a mess of brown hair that looks impossibly soft. His eyes are big and kind. Tony wants to take him home and feed him. "That one's ours."

His name is Peter, and he got into a fight with older kids when they wanted to stomp on ladybugs. He pushes back, but not unkindly. He's no bully. Instead, he takes the time to teach them why disrespecting and hurting nature is wrong, then takes their hands into his own, playing with the tiny creatures for hours.

Tony falls in love immediately. "Let's bring him home, Cap."

---

He can't do it. Tony can't look into Peter's adoring eyes, wide and brown that feel more like a mirror than anything, and see the fear he had for Howard, or the sadness for Maria. Tony can't handle looking at the love of his life and see another him.

Steve is Peter's role model. His knight in shining armor, his protector, everywhere he goes he sings praise to anyone who cares to listen. About his fearless father, his heroic antics that seem so tall for him. "My daddy's a superhero!" Tony doesn't have the heart to take that away.

And Tony loves Steve too much to see him become Howard.

So when Steve misses their son's 5th birthday party because he had more pressing business in D.C, Tony realizes bitterly, there's no saving this. People labeled him as a mechanic, a futurist, but he feels unworthy of both when he couldn't fix or foresee this.

There's no coming back from this.

Natasha doesn't voice it, but she doesn't need to. She tucks her phone away after a third failed attempt to coax, threaten, and guilt Steve into joining them, with muted movements, and Tony can tell she agrees.

Tony's grin is too wide when he looks down at Peter when he drags him off to paint his face, unaware of his father's turmoil. He laughs. He smiles. He celebrates. He has a nice day with his family.

He pulls Pepper aside and asks her to prepare his lawyers in the same breath.

This is why Tony knew love wasn't made for him.

---

Tony's always been good at hurting himself. The more pain he inflicts on himself, the less it'll hurt when someone else does it. So he unpacks the stash of letters he kept locked away in a seif, because they're prized to him, more than any sleek car or company, and reads them before he burns the bridge.

They feel like warm kisses and goodbyes.

'Left for a grocery jog, ran out of coffee. It's supposed to be cold, so don't you even think about leaving the house without a jacket! I'll know. Take care of yourself, even when I'm not there. '

' I love waking up next to you every morning. I love how you hide from the sun in my chest. I love how grumpy you are when Pepper calls for updates and all you do is cuddle me and whine. I love your messy bed hair and how you fall asleep in the shower.

'I never cared for jewelry before but seeing my ring around your finger never gets old. I still can't believe you said yes, but I'm glad you did. You deserve more, but you settled for someone like me. I can't believe it when you say no one would want you forever, I hate that someone made you think like that, that they let you go, but their biggest mistake is my biggest win. Jokes on them.'

'I can't imagine my life without you. Its all radio silence and broken static. Like an artist with a blank canvas and grey paint. You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, and the fact that I have you means there really is someone up there looking our for me. I'm never letting you go. I love you, I love you, I love you, '

Tony stains the paper with tears as he listens to the song of heartbreak in his chest.

---

"Nat, " Tony pleads, choosing not to look at the tremor in his hands as he neats the papers he wants to see burn. "There's no need for that, come on. You know I love you, but I'm a big boy. I don't need you to hold my hand for this."

Natasha shrugs. "Indulge me."

"He wouldn't do anything to me."

"I thought there were lots of things he wouldn't do. Like stop loving you, for one, " she doesn't mean to be a jab, but Tony strokes his right arm and lets the hurt wash off. He sometimes forgets how blunt and terrifying Pepper's wife is capable of being. "Being paranoid is worth being safe."

They find Steve in the kitchen, sitting stiff and unfamiliar as if he didn't design the place himself. Tony swallows down the pressure in his throat and forces his eyes to stay dry. He wants to rest his hands on Steve's shoulders and pepper the lines of laughter on his flushed face with kisses.

But they're behind that now.

Steve raises his eyes to look at him. He's tired, run-down, missing the spark Tony marked as one of his favorite traits of the blonde. The life wasted from them, telling Tony that he's surviving, but not living.

Tony looks at him back and his eyes say, 'Me too.'

Steve's mouth twists into an imitation of a smile, tries his luck at mimicking something of the reassurance and ease variety, to hide his emotions with a mask of cracked peace Tony undressed a million times, just as Steve undressed his. He's always been good at reading the man. Or, was.

Steve's eyes fall on the documents Tony's holding with his naked hands, no ring in sight, and Tony watches something die in him.

The room drowns in silence for a while.

Natasha stands as a loyal shadow at his side, silent but sharp, hands folded in front of her crotch like a guard dog waiting to pounce. There's a forced calm into her breathing that puts him even more on edge.

Papers brush smoothly above the marble surface, ear piercing to him. Red hot blazing into white noise. It's the most terrible sound he's ever heard. He prefers his breathless, agonized screams in Afghanistan to this.

Steve recoils away, standing up suddenly and shakily, as if the documents are bombs about to kill him anytime now.

He turns his head, refusing to look at them. Refuses to accept they're real.

"Throw those away, Tony, " he says, voice edged with the kind of suffering that would bring Tony to his knees on other circumstances."Get them the hell away from me and never bring them up again, you hear me? I'm serious.''

Carefully, Natasha chimes in, tone mild and neutral. " Steve. Tony would like to speak with you about something, alright? Let's sit down, and talk like grown-ups, -"

"Where's your ring!?" Steve shouts, tiptoeing at the border of desperate and hysteric. Tony wants back into the cave, wants the water to take him away from all of this. It's hard to kill something that's already dead. "What did you do with it!? Why aren't you wearing it!? You PROMISED me, you promised you'd never take it off you JERK, you lying -"

"And you promised to love me until the day we die, but by the looks of it we both could use a lesson in honesty, " Tony cuts icily, colder than colder. His words are resigned, hollow, at the brim of mechanical. He thinks all the people who say Starks are more machine than men had a point. "I'm the fuck up in this relationship. What's your excuse?"

He thought he'd feel vindication watching Steve taste a fraction of his sorrow, that his destroyed look would make something in Tony retaliate. It does nothing. Tony loves him stronger, fiercer, and there's no win here for anyone.

His mouth tastes like ashes.

He just wants to stop, to sink in his bed and swim in ratty hoodies drenched in cheap but sweet cologne, smudged with paint of all shades, and feel Steve's arms shield him from the world.

He wonders if it'll keep Steve up at night, how it never occurred to him that the danger he wanted to defend Tony from might have his face.

"I'll do better. Tony please," Steve begs him, and Tony wonders if the situation is so low a man with his nature would resort to that. He's shaken by big hands engulfing his own for exactly a moment before Natasha intervenes, pushing the blonde away with a hint of regret. Steve recovers, looks right through her at Tony who wants to wipe his tears away. "I'll do better, I'll- I'll spend less time with Bucky if you want, -"

"Bucky isn't the problem. It's not about HIM, it was never about him, this is US, Steve. We, our marriage, our family, its been here longer than Bucky. I never wanted you to - to erase him from your life, I just wanted my husband. Peter wanted his daddy. Bucky could've been apart of that, but you just, you just pushed us aside,-"

"I won't do that anymore. I, - Do you want me to be at home more often? I can, sweetheart, I can do that no problem. I can be at home, I can make time for dates and-and for activities, I can take Peter to the park and play ball, - Do you remember that? How we used to play until he fell asleep? I don't mind, its no problem, -"

Something in Tony snaps.

"WE'RE NOT YOUR FUCKING CHORES," His voice is more roar than man, ragged, tight, pushed to the last limit. The garden of silent pain, fury, rage, and fear he's been harboring finally blossomed into something that seemed to shake the world. His body shudders. "We're not some,- some pestering tasks that you have to save your precious time to complete! Some fucking pets other people have to force you to care of, or some dirty laundry you decide to wear whenever you feel like washing! We're your damn FAMILY,- " A sob hitches his anger, and by the broken look on Steve's face, it's worse than any rage.

He narrows his eyes in disbelief, as if Steve was some stranger and not someone he gave years of his life to. A laugh is pushed out of his chest, choked, long, and terrible. "I would've ended this sooner if, - God, if I knew how much of a burden we became for you."

"Tony, Tony don't say that, " Steve's face is blotched red, painted in punishing torment. "I love you and Peter more than anything in this life. You're mine, both of you, how can you think I don't love you? I, -"

"Just love Bucky more, " Tony finishes, note flat, accepting, rehearsed. His voice feels as hollow as his chest when Steve flinches. "I'm just... I'm so tired. Steve,I'm tired, and- I can't do it anymore. My son, my baby is not going to be a burden on anybody. I can put up with a lot of shit, but Peter is my limit. I can't and I won't put anyone above him. Not even you."

Horror shines bright and clear on the blue eyes Tony loves so much. He spots Steve's finger tremble at his sides, notices the hesitant movement of his Addams apple.

Natasha was wrong. It's a rare occurrence, but it happened.

Steve never stopped loving him.

It makes signing the papers so much harder.

---

Steve lost Bucky to ice, snow, and time. Tony loses Steve to fire, anger, and distance.

---

Pepper is surprised when she hears Steve ended up signing willingly.

She doesn't want to ruin the calm air that finally settled over the emotion packed atmosphere surrounding the living room, currently stashed with carton boxes filled with Steve's stuff, ready to be delivered tomorrow as Tony wanted, but it's a needed talk.

"What did you say to convince him?" She asks, not demanding an answer but clearly expecting one. "I'd just assume Nat had him in an arm lock until he agreed, but, in all honesty, Steve would probably lose an arm than do what people tell him to. Seriously, I've seen anarchists with more respect for authority than this guy."

Tony laughs, too loving and too fond for this predicament. "I said you'd drag his ass through every courtroom in America and drain him of everything he's worth?"

"Mmm. Try again. I mean, that's a Sunday for me, but he's already heard that talk before." Giggles are shared between the pair on the couch, snuggled under fuzzy blankets with wine glasses that clink slightly. Pepper's face relaxes into something sympathetic, earnest. "Was it something Peter related?"

"No, " he shakes his head. It never crossed his mind once, no matter how hurt he was. It felt too much like what his father would do. " Peter is his son, too. No matter what happens between us. There's no changing that. "

"No one would blame you if it came down to that, you know that, right?"

He hums. Pepper waits.

"I asked him to let me say goodbye to my husband instead of forcing me to stay with Howard."

A sharp intake of breath settles something cold beneath Tony's skin. He closes his eyes, and accepts the wine Pepper pours in his cup, neither commenting on how it spills over the rim.

---

Talking to Peter is the hardest part.

He doesn't understand why suddenly there's only two people there instead of three, why he isn't woken up by two pairs of arms tickling him and kissing his sleepy eyelids every morning, why Tony's laughter isn't echoing through the house as Steve spins and twists him around in the living room dance session they had at least once a week.

Why, apparently, Steve now has a permanent residence in DC and can only see him twice a week as their legal agreement states.

Why he has to live in two different places and split his playtime.

Why Tony bought a new apartment and they had to move away, stretching the distance between them and Steve.

"Is Papa comin' home today?" A hand squeezes Tony's heart painfully tight at the small question. He looks down at his son, smaller than usual and playing with his fingers at his feet. His frail shoulder raise, housing an anxious breath as he awaits an answer.

Tony takes his tiny hand in his own, leaning down to press kisses on the back of his son's palm, apology on his lips. "Yeah, baby. He has to come and pick up his stuff. Maybe you can play a little when he arrives! I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. "

Steve sends Sam to pick up his things and Tony feels guilt bite at him for hissing 'coward' in his mind.

Peter is excited to see his uncle Sam but the disappointment when he hears a truck coming instead of the deep rumble of a motorcycle engine doesn't wash off. He soldiers on, smiles for Sam because as little as he is, he's careful with people and their emotions. His goodness is organic. He takes after Steve like that.

Sam's always been frustratingly talented at deciphering his thoughts, even when his face is emotionless. It's one of the many reasons why Tony thinks him and Rhodey match so well. "He said he's really sorry he couldn't come, but... Okay, his excuse is just sad, because I doubt you'd believe he'd rather attend a Zoomba class than see you and Peter. Truth is, he's scared."

"Of facing me?"

"Of hurting you."

"Yeah, well, he's already got that job done on the to do list, " Tony huffs, petty and aware. He tosses Peter his baseball that lands in the backyard, gently nudging him away from the conversation. They watch the ball of energy squeal in delight as he runs to fetch it, tension momentarily on hold. "Sorry. You don't need my shit. Let's just load this and be done with it."

Sam huffs. "Man, I've been involved with your shit for a while. Appreciate the feeling but it's a bit late for that. Trust me, me and Rhodey have in length discussions about it. I'm neck-deep in white boy drama, but well, sacrifices of the job. Not much you can do."

He's playful, Tony knows this, in the corner of his brain that isn't raided by anxiety, yet fear claws at him, sharp and cruel and unexpected. Coldness spreads inside him like wildfire, almost matching the thoughts racing in his mind. Sam and Rhodey were talking? Were they arguing? Had Tony harmed Rhodey's relationship as if he didn't wreck his own enough?

"Talk?" Tony rasps, pushes the words out of his constricted throat that seems to close more and more, synchronizing with his lungs. Sam's wide, concerned eyes tells him the surface looked as bad as the inside."You... You and Rhodey, you guys- Bad talk? You, you fought about it?"

His mind torments him by showcasing Rhodey yelling in Sam's face and Sam yelling back, both standing their ground like two soldiers on a mission and defending their friends like avenging angels. Rhodey is more brother than friend, he'd take his side, like the devoted friend he always proved himself to be, but he watches with a cut breath as Rhodey locks himself in his room and weeps.

Rhodey sharing his fate is Tony's own horror movie.

"...ony! Tony, deep breaths, come on, " gentle hands guide him away from the void his own psyche trapped him into, speaking in a low voice that plucks him back up little by little. "Come on, in and out. Focus on my voice, that's good. Listen to me, Rhodey and I did not and will not fight about this. We're fine, Tony, promise! We agreed, no side pickers. This isn't war, and we won't get into some life or death fight for your and/or Steve's honor, " he tries for a little grin. ''I mean, I'm not supposed to tell you, but we don't like you guys that much."

Tony laughs, at once, a pathetically small sound, but he's grounded enough to laugh. He basks in the lack of sound around them, like the silence of an after battle, suffocating, but free.

The quiet hangs in the air as they load the truck, too, not oppressing, but welcomed, with a touch of comfort that burns just right. When the last box is secured and road-ready, him and Sam stay just a bit on the porch to stare at the house. Because that's what it is, isn't?

'Is papa comin' home?'

There is no home. Not if Steve's missing.

"Steve said you can keep those, if you want," that sentence made Tony hunch his shoulders, releasing that bitter aftertaste in his mouth again, blending with something sweet, and igniting the warmth that pierced as deep as his very marrow. "Nothing he loves or wants back is in those boxes."

Yes, Tony wants to scream. I want to keep the sketchbooks he has for me. I want to keep the photo albums. I want to keep the paint, the charcoal, the brushes. I want to keep the stuffed animals he won me at the fairs. I want to keep his clothes. I want to keep the dances in the living room. I want to keep his love, attention, care, worry, sadness, anger, grief. I want to keep my husband.

Instead, Tony reaches for his back pocket, and squeezes his ring. It burns in his palm, almost begging him to put it back in it's place, or on his finger, where it fitted like it always belonged. His being feels it, as if connected, and he decides to even the odds in the cowardice department.

Sam holds his breath as Tony hands him the ring, with hesitance, with no indication he wants to. "You sure about this?" It's a careful question, painfully gentle, far softer than Tony deserves.

No. Not by a long shot. "Yeah, " he mutters, almost lost in the air. "It's not mine anymore."

Sam curls his hand around the ring, pockets it, and Tony wrestles with the urge to ask for it back. His eyes are trained to the floor, on his shoes, the fine leather ones Steve bought for him on their anniversary, he realizes.

He watches droplets of water splash and dissolve into the concrete. It's raining, he figures, he should take Peter inside or he'll catch a cold. He looks up to watch the dark clouds, and the senine blue above mocks him.

"It's okay, " Rhodey picked a good one, Tony thinks, as Sam covers his crying form away from Peter's eyes. "It's okay, Tony. Just... Let it out. You earned this."

"I tried, " he sobs in Sam's neck, sobs his demise his failure, his bottled cocktail of emotions that waited to implode. "I tried, Sam, I tried so hard, I swear I did."

"We know you did, Tony. We all know."

---

Peter wants to meet Bucky one day.

"Papa used to talk about him all the time, " He says, oblivious to how vexed Tony is hearing that. He apprehends himself, reproaching that he should be over it already. "He sounds pretty cool! I want to see his Terminator arm!"

"It's a Tin Man or Robocop arm, at best, " He smirks at the pout Peter throws his way, smoothing it out with his thumb. "And he's in a hospital. You and I hate hospitals, remember?"

Peter whines and makes his eyes larger, pitifully glassy and sad, just the way to wrap Tony around his little finger. "Daddyyyy, pleeeease!" He hooks his fingers around his arm, hugging it close to his chest and his lower lip trembles.

He imagines Steve behind him, smothering a laugh in his shoulder, egging Peter on like two conspirational buddies. He melts, pushing the rush of yearning back, and knows it's a battle lost. Peter is too lovable, too determined, too bright eyed.

He's morbidly curious, in a way, to see what was so special about Bucky that it made Steve want to trade that.

---

Bucky and Peter hit it off in a heartbeat.

The facility hosting Bucky is uncomfortably pristine, from door corner to ceiling. Everything is tailored and arranged with ridiculous precision, clinical, professional, boring, and detached, as most medical spaces are. His workshop dances circles around it in the personality field, and he tells Bucky as such.

He laughs at him. "That's an interesting way to say you're a chronic untidy mess."

'Chronic untidy hot mess, " Tony corrects, hating how easily he falls into conversation with him. He tells himself it's merely a distraction from the stomach twisting smell of medicine, stingy and sharp smothering the air. "How offensive. I demand a trial by combat. Peter, make him pay in blood!"

Peter turns to Bucky, unblinking. "Your hair's greasy."

A theatrical gasps spreads in the room from the blue eyed brunette. Tony beams, kissing Peter's cheek. "That's my boy. I'm sure Bucky's bleeding a lot on the inside."

"Yeah. You know, where blood usually is, " Bucky snarks, heatless, propping Peter off from the spot on his leg and putting him on the ground . "Why don't you go ask nurse Joy to give you some magnets for the arm? Your father and I gotta talk adult business."

"Uncle Clint says adult business is just gossip for grown ups. " Peter retorts, smirk on his lips, half raising on the edges of his mouth. He got the smugness from him, that much Tony will admit. Bucky huffs a laugh that mirror Tony's own and waits for Peter to be out of the hearing range to say his next words.

"I owe you an apology."

Tony blinks, hastily, and speaks before he can even register what he's saying. "No, you don't. Drop it." It comes off razor sharp, yet Bucky must be used to worse, because he doesn't falter.

"I ruined your marriage. There's no forgiving that, but I DO regret it and you'll damn well listen to what I have to say."

"Look, I appreciate it. I do. I'm not... Mad at you. You're just in the crossfire of this clusterfuck. There's no forgiving because there's nothing to forgive, " he murmurs under his breath, words quiet, but sincere, he realizes. "My failure is my own to carry. "

"Stark, relationships need more than one person. Stevie ain't exactly blameless in this whole thing, - Far from it, trust me, I let him know. He got the scolding of the damn lifetime, because he threw away a damn good thing. He made a home for himself and then demolished it. You didn't hand him the sledgehammer, he picked it up on his own dumb self."

"You know, your philosophy lesson would impact me better with wizard lingo. Throw in a riddle or a prophecy and I might bite. " Receiving a blank stare to his quip, Tony sighed, eyes downcast.

"Look. I called it off, alright? I lit up the matches, I burned down the bridge, and I watched it turn to ash. But it was meant to happen, one way or another. We were just too different. Guys like me break the world apart. Men like Steve put it back together. He'll move forward. Like he always does."

Bucky's reply is instant. "No, no he won't, " it's said with such conviction, with such a finality, that it has Tony freezing. "He'll never move on. Not from this. I've never seen him like that for anybody, hell, never seen ANYONE like that. You and him? That's a forever kind of deal. You don't need a ring and name change for that to last. You don't have a choice."

Tony swallows, slowly, unsure. "So what? We just keep path crossing like fate has us tied together, in each other 's range but standing on parallel lines, never meant to cross? This isn't a fairytale, Barnes. It's real life. And even if it wasn't, that's still far from fair."

"It is real life. Which means it ain't fair, Stark. "

Tony takes Peter home, cuddles him closely as if he might disappear, and eyes the empty area around the right side of the bed with a lonely glint that burns in the darkness.

---

The first time Tony meets Steve after the divorce, it's for Natasha's birthday party.

Time jumps from slow to fast, alters between stagnation and overwhelming in the first 6 months that pass after the finalization of their parting. Some days are agonizingly slow. As if the world wants him to stomach every second, consume every minute, where Steve is not with him, isn't his anymore, and choke on the pain that tastes just as sharply as the first time.

And in some, time goes by in blink record, not keen on giving Tony the courtesy of healing, of moving on, of according him the patience or kindness in adapting his feelings to his pace, to accommodate to the arrangement it dragged him in.

Concern crawls inside him regardless of how many times he buries it, makes a tangly nest right in his chest, and makes no effort to move. He doesn't blame Steve for not wanting to meet him, to look at him, to give him the chance of staring into the bright, baby blue eyes that hold everything beautiful in the world.

Tony's seen the wonders of the world, all 8 them, and they all pale put next to Steve.

He feels seething, scalding guilt showering him for thinking that. Because Steve is not his to worry over, not his to call wonderful, not his to care for. Not anymore. He repeats that like a mantra against his eardrum when Natasha asks him if it's fine if she invites him to her party, too.

It's the perfect excuse to see how he's doing, but Tony elects to ignore that and remind Natasha grown-ass people don't ask other grown-ass people for permission on what to do. "Do I look like Pepper to you? No? Then why would I order you around?"

A discreet smile reaches Natasha's features, exhibiting confidence but betraying relief. She loves them both, Tony knows, and wants her friends first, not the fallen lovers. "Just wanted to know if I should hide the sharp knives or prepare some spare sheets."

His face heats ferociously, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears, and all the embarrassment in the world is worth listening to Natasha laugh. Something sharp-edged inside of him brittles at the prospect of seeing Steve, thought, and he holds his tongue from saying something of that nature won't happen.

In the company of his solitude and shame, Tony wonders later, is he afraid of seeing Steve again because he fears the blonde is not doing okay, or because he is?

Later on, he sees Steve stand in flash before him, chatting with some faceless figures, hair longer than last time and flattened slightly at the nape, sporting a beard that framed his gorgeous face perfectly. The impeccable balance between scruffy and well-groomed. Tony itched to run his fingers against it.

"It's the divorce beard, " Clint muses, elbow jolting Tony in the side to show the humor. "Give him a few more weeks, and you'll see him shopping from the Hobo shop. All wrinkled shirts and ketchup stained clothes or something. Men are useless without their wives.'' He winks in Tony's way, but Tony is too entranced by Steve to acknowledge it.

His fists are bruised, Tony notes with a wince as he gets drunk on Steve's form with a studious gaze, creamy skin battered and laced in a cluster of dark purple, crimson, and small patches of yellow shaping his knucklebones.

A trail of question rests blistering on his tongue. 'What happened? Who did that? Who were you fighting? Why? Are you okay? Did you win?' But he closes his eyes and bites his tongue, knowing these questions don't belong to him anymore.

He gave up his rights to that.

But then, Tony spots them.

His breath is knocked out of his lungs in a silent punch, eardrums pushing out all the sound attempting to penetrate his ears. His fingers loosen so much they almost drop his water, feeling tingly numb. Tony's eyes, large and surprised, trace the circle of gold curled around Steve's fourth finger, gleaming softly against the artificial light around the dining room.

Steve is still wearing his ring.

But then, his chest burns and booms, heart roars fiercely behind his ribcage as he notices the thin string of black leather circling around Steve's neck, loose as a necklace, hanging low enough for Tony to eye the shape of metal halo looped right in the middle of the material.

Steve was wearing Tony's ring, too.

The realization left him petrified in place, more statue than man, in stunned shock as he bore into his former lover who only then noticed the brown eyes looking at him, transparent astonishment clear as crystal in his features.

It's like a spell breaks.

Tony's limbs move mechanically, on autopilot, running to the nearest room, getting himself away from what his body detects as danger. Urgency is packed on his step, taking him to the bathroom in record time, but Steve's always been the runner, more athletic between them, and his sprinting lands him a spot in the sleat Tony wass about to slam.

He's pinned to a wall effective immediately, feels cold tiles plant clammy kisses on the back of his head and neck. Tony almost hisses at the force of the slam, but before he can make a peep, his lips are stolen in a savage, fierce kiss.

It's pure desperation conveyed in the most unconventional way. Steve pounces on him, lips wild against Tony's own, pouring every emotion he went through in the past few months,- Longing, yearning, craving, hunger, desire, - his being, his love, his soul into that kiss, barely giving Tony the chance to breathe.

"St-Steve, " He gasps, head tilting slightly to the side to escape the ministrations, to gulp air, moving to avoid the chase at reconnection Steve is playing at by trying to capture his lips again. "Wait, wait a minute, -"

"Missed you, " Steve's voice is thick with want, hitching in the small puffs of air that came off raggedy and breathless, words melting over Tony's mouth. Steve's face glows with a blush he wants to kiss with inhuman greed. "I missed you, I missed you,Tony I missed you" Tony's fucked.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 16

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: i rewrote this 100 times. hope you guys enjoy it xx

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Her head felt heavy as her senses returned to her. The first thing that returned to her was sound, although all she could hear were mumbles and murmurs. She opened her eyes to the feeling of a moist cloth being dabbed onto her forehead. As her view got sharper and clearer she was able to make out various female faces looking down at her, one holding the moist cloth that was being constantly dabbed on her forehead, care and curiosity on their faces. She immediately raised her torso from where she was laying, recognising she did not know any of these women and as she turned her head to look at where she was staying, she also did not know where she was. 

She pushed away from their grasp, her feet hitting what felt like hot stone as she rushed from where she was. Y/N did not know where she was or who those people were but if there was something she knew it was that she needed to rush away from them. She ran further into wherever she was standing until she hit someone, making her fall back into the same hot stone. 

      - I’m so sorry, my lady. - she raised her head to see a clothed figure reaching his hand to help her get up which she declined. Y/N kept scanning her surroundings. It was dark and hot but not hot in a way a holiday felt, hot in a way that felt like her breathe was about to be constantly taken away. Her eyes returned to the clothed figure, examining it until she realised the figure had no face. She let out a shriek, crawling away from the figure, wondering if she hit her head a bit to hard. The figure followed her which scared her even more causing her to crawl away, praying that she woke up from his nightmare. The faceless man stopped, bowing ceremoniously which confused her. - Your Highness. 

      - I got this. - she recognised that voice. Finally something she recognised in this god forsaken place, whatever that place was. She turned her head ever so slightly, seeing James standing behind her. His expression softened, softly taking her hands in his helping her to her feet. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, the only single thing she knew was real right now. He carefully brushed her hair with his fingers, kissing the top of her head. - It’s alright, sweetness. You’re alright.

     - What the fuck? - she finally softly murmured, still looking around her surroundings. Everything seemed to be carved out of rock, black stone which shimered whenever the river which seemed to cut the land in half where some translucent figures seemed to be travelling in it. James cuddled her closer to him, not entirely sure how to break it to him. He didn’t even know how she’d gotten the pomegranate in the first place. - James, you need to take me home. I have to speak with Anne, she’s acting weird and I have to work tomorrow. 

     - Sweetness ... - he sighed, cupping her jaw in his hands, not entirely sure how to explain it to her. She’d think he’d gone insane if he told her who he really was and what her eating the pomegranate had cursed her to. She gave him a confused look yet relished into his touch. - I need you to come with me. 

Y/N noticed his tense features, lips pulled tight and eyes avoiding to look into hers as he regularly did. Her hand cupped his cheek, ring finger caressing it in a soothing manner. He leaned onto her touch, he was sure he could find a way to get her off the underworld. She hadn’t eaten the pomegranate knowing what it was and therefore, he was sure he could argue it at the council of Gods but he still had to explain it to her anyway. He took her hand in his, taking her into his office. She found it way more calming than the dark outside with grey yet illuminated walls but what she found more lovely was her sunflower on his desk. He took a seat on top of his mahogany desk, thinking about how to tell her, how to explain it to her. Her parents had been historians so she probably knew how a bit of this worked but the hard bit was to try and convince her. 

He opened his mouth, trying to find the words to say to her but finding none. Thankfully, Hecate intervened, walking into his office in such fashion that suggested she was the ruler of the Underworld and not the other way around.  

      - She’s alive. - Hecate placed her hand over her face, sighing deeply. Last time they had a mortal in the underworld, things didn’t end up exactly swell. Between Orpheus, Theseus, and Pirithous, she knew exactly how things went downhill whenever one was near. The only exception was that this particular mortal had eaten the fruit of the dead and thus now belonged to the Underworld. - Mortals are incredibly resilient these days if you ask me.

       - Excuse me? - Y/N spoke up, mostly to herself than to the woman. She had to admit she looked intimidating with her red fiery hair and thin matching red dress which went beautifully with her pale complexion. Her eyes moved between her and James as her mind started to make up the wildest of assumptions. 

       - I wanted you to know .. - the redhead turned to face the man sat on the desk, finger pointed towards him. - That this maiden plan is a terrible plan. If you wanna coddle her so much, then do it yourself. 

      - Hecate, that’s quite enough. - he threatened, his patience for her sarcastic and sassy remarks growing smaller and smaller. Y/N’s head immediately moved back to Hecate. She knew that name, it was an odd one and one she had definitely read before.

      - Hecate? As in the Greek goddess of witchcraft? 

      - I am the Goddess of Witchcraft. - she snapped her head towards the mortal, innervated the mortal did not bow down ready to worship her. She did miss the good old Greek days where people feared her name. She was about to berate her once she realised why she did not know. Her head turned to face James who had the most annoyed look on his face. - You haven’t told her yet, have you?

      - Told me what? - her eyes settled onto James’ face, mind going haywire.

      - That you’re in the Underworld. Most specifically the Asphodel Meadows. Do you seriously don’t know? - she scoffed at Y/N who was looking at both James and her like a scolded child. - Oh dear Zeus, you don’t know. 

     - Yes, Hecate, she does not know. She did not steal the pomegranate because as I fucking told you, she was with me all of last night. 

     - Wait ... the underworld does not exist. - she raised her hands in exasperation. - It’s just the ancient way of dealing with death and since the Greeks were afraid of dying and stop existing, they created the Underworld. 

     - For someone who’s fucking the God of the Underworld, you sure are clueless. - she narrowed her gaze at the both of them before deciding that dealing with both him and her as something she did not want to waste her immortality time on. She closed the door behind her, the sound of the door banging being the only one as Y/N stared at him.

     - James, you better explain yourself, right now. - she stomped her foot against the floor, not entirely sure if she was dreaming or not. Underworld, God of the Underworld, Hecate? Between that and Anne’s weird behaviour, she wondered if insanity had finally hit her. 

Bucky sighed, hand rushing through the back of his neck. He wanted to tell her, he really did and when he thought about telling her, he always considered taking her out something nice and ease her onto it. However, the current circumstances did not allow him to slowly and sweetly introduce her to what had been his environment for years. 

He took a few steps forwards, placing his hands on her shoulders to try and pull her into him but she pushed him back, hands in front of her and pushing onto his chest.

     - You lied to me, James. - he couldn’t see her face as she was staring at the ground, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice.

     - C’mon, Y/N ... - his fingers grabbed her chin, softly pulling it up so he could look at her face. - Wouldn’t you have thought I was crazy if my opening line was I’m the God of the Underworld?

     - Why am I here? - she lowered her arms, hand coming to hold the opposite elbow. 

     - Last night someone stole a pomegranate from her and it somehow ended up with you. You at ...

     - I know the fruit of the dead myth. - she let herself slide onto one of the chairs of his office. - Am I here forever?

     - No. - he rushed to her side, crutching to her level, taking her hands into his and mindlessly started to rub circles on her skin. - I’m gonna figure this out, I promise. You didn’t eat it knowing what it was and I didn’t give it to you, the rules shouldn’t apply. 

     - So ... are you Hades? Is that your name? - Y/N wondered if he had lied about his name too.

     - It is my name, it’s complicated, sweetness. I think that’s something to explain to you later.

     - Can I still call you Bucky?

     - You can call me whatever you want, sweetness.

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​ @inlovewith3​​​19

[diosefm]

FROM THE DESK OF DIOSE VALEY II

when: all of these letters were written during the dawn of day two of the train hijack where: written in her train car, all letters were left on people’s rooms in the morning of day two. for those in train one, letters should be delivered the next time everyone sees each other triggers: mentions of death, threats of violence, paranoia mentions: cabil, mommy pista, @pista-clearmark , @givcnup , @cinnc, @swannscngs  , @blythefm​ , @sinksand & tiberius who is still dead

CABIL,

I know that after your conversation you probably do not wish to hear of me again, and I understand. After everything that has happened and what has been done to you, I don’t think that us Capitol people really deserve people’s pity. I don’t intend to ask you for that, nor do I want to ask for your forgiveness. I just needed to write you this and thank you for not coddling me. 

I deserved it. And not because I want to victimize myself. I’ve never been a victim, more like a victimizer. I am seeing that now. It’s almost astounding what you can realize when those you have hurt have the opportunity to tell you what they really think about you in your face. And you might have not done that outright, but your message was very clear to me.

I won’t bore you with my inner conflicts. I am writing this because Pista mentioned something to me, something about you having someone waiting for you back home. And again, I know that this really isn’t any of my business but this is something I really want to do and would be honored if you say yes.

In the event that you were to marry your girlfriend, I would love to pay for everything and offer my services as a designer. You don’t have to say yes. All I ask is that you keep this letter and if one day you are able to forgive me, my offer will still stand.

Best wishes, Diose Valey.

HELENA,

I apologize for subjecting you to this. I can only imagine how awkward it must be to receive a letter from a complete stranger, especially one that is so deeply personal and filled with apologies.

But, I feel the need to apologize for putting your son in danger. It was easy for me to just involve Pista because I vaguely knew of him and his knowledge of trains and that was the only thing that mattered to me. It wasn’t until I saw the way you looked at him that something stirred inside of me. It made me think of my own mother, made me wonder if she had ever looked at me with such love and devotion. I’m scared of finding the answer. 

I don’t want to talk about you. My intention is to tell you how sorry I am that I involved Pista in my plans. They worked, yes, but we were lucky. No, more than that. Your son refused to leave me when things god bad. I wanted to make him promise that he wouldn’t because I kept thinking of you and I couldn’t let something happen to him and hurt you. But he shot me down. And not only that, but showed me the empathy I never expected to receive given who I am. That’s what made me see what an amazing job you did raising him. I can only hope that if life ever gives me the chance of being a mother, I can be like you.

Once again, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping this on you and for almost taking Pista away from you.

PISTA,

It wasn’t until I was able to lie down in bed that I remembered you. Your face was familiar, of course. I’d catch glances of you every year at the Capitol, but I couldn’t quite place you until I was left alone with my thoughts. At first I only remembered you due to Slate mentioning you during our conversations. It’s what made me come to you for help. My head just told you knew trains, having always being a hard worker who never got into trouble. But of course, Slate never mentioned your games. I remembered those on my own.

I was just a teenager so the memories are fuzzy at best. And of course, I didn’t pay attention. I was self absorbed, just saw a sobbing boy I foolishly thought had a lot of growing up to do. But there is always more than meets the eye. It’s curious, really. I would have never thought that decades later you would be the one actually helping me mature. 

You didn’t have to help me. You could’ve just left me to my own devices and stayed with your people. I keep thinking about your mother, about how I wouldn’t forgive myself if you didn’t come back to her because of my doing. It’s why I begged for you to not wait for me. Slate never taught me anything. I just couldn’t bear the thought of being the one that left a mother without her child. Which is stupid, really. That is something I have been doing for decades, just dressing up children before they’re sent to their deaths. And I know that many of the parents do want their children there, but I refuse to use that to justify my actions. Maybe that worked in the past, but not anymore.

I don’t think I really understood what empathy was until who had some for me despite of who I am. And yes, I am aware of how awful that sounds now. I wasn’t lying to you when I said I was working on dealing with all of this. I’ll keep trying. 

GRIFFIN,

Thank you. 

I could say more. Go on a tangent and talk about how much I dislike you, but that is unnecessary right now. All that you told me did bother me, but it was all because none of the things you mentioned were a lie. I guess that’s what I needed. And I hope you enjoyed it, because it is not happening again. Not because I cannot bear the thought of you having the upper hand, but because I hope that after everything that has happened, we can see eye to eye. 

You might not know this, but I was very close to Nelly once. And despite everything and the years I spent away from her, i still trust her judgement. And if she likes you and has taken care of you for years, it must be because you are worth it. I just pray you don’t ruin anymore of my dresses. Hating you is pointless, especially over something to silly. And now that we are seeing eye to eye now, well, I’ve taken it upon me to ensure you don’t hurt that woman.

You are a good man, Griffin Cripes. I apologize for not seeing it until now.

CINNA,

This is obvious to everyone, but it still has to be said. I need to confront these feelings if I truly want to be be able to seek repentance. 

I tried to sabotage you. I screamed and complained for what seems like hours, angry that someone had dared to overshadow me. I blamed you for whatever minuscule thing that happened to ruin my day when you first started working for the games. I made plans, swore I would find a way to ensure you would not get any more work after what had been done to me. I thought you were personally trying to ruin my reputation, but it was just my paranoia and Tiberius encouragement making it all worse. 

I feel like the past few days my mind has come up with a million excuses that would attempt to paint me as the victim, but I swear that is never my intention. I have a lot to work on, just like I have so many people I need to apologize to. And you’re one of them, hence this letter. 

It is an awful attempt at it, I know. I keep repeating this to myself and others, but I am trying. I promise I will have something better once we see each other face to face again. I just need time to properly deal with my own conflicting emotions, but I am sure you understand.

SWANN,

My behavior in the past was not the best. Not towards you, and especially not towards Virgo. 

I was possessive and overprotective, that I am ready to accept now. Paranoid too. With so many people whispering into my ears, I was led to believe you had ulterior motives and did not truly care about my sibling. But it was far from it, wasn’t it? I certainly could have brought this up during our conversation, give you a better apology but... Maybe I am a coward. Destroying lives and relationships is easy, but building them is what I seem to struggle with. 

Even after our meeting, I  left your train car and still asked myself if I had done enough to apologize. After a few hours, I realized I hadn’t. So you get this stupid, sentimental letter that is still not gonna feel like enough. Virgo would be much better at all of this, but I don’t have them with me right now. But on their behalf, I owe you not only several apologies, but a big thank you. 

They are not like me. It has its pros and its cons. They’re their own person, and many of what they’ve accomplished is also because of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this.

--- 

TIBERIUS,

With your connections, I am sure that by the time you read this you will know what I have done.

I don’t regret anything, Tiberius. If I am writing you one last letter before I put an end to our correspondence for good is because I need you to understand how much I’ve learned to despise you these past few weeks. I almost can’t believe that at one point I dared to think that I ha— No, I’m not doing this.

If I see you lurking around me, my sibling, or Slate I swear that all the things I’ve done to people throughout the years (so many of them for your own benefit) will seem like mere child’s play compared to what will happen if you force me to unleash my rage upon you. The bullshit about everyone that isn’t us being an enemy is over. I know who the real enemy is now.

I’m not scared of you. Never was, and never will. Fuck you.

BLYTHE,

I don’t know the truth. Virgo won’t talk to me, but they’re also absolutely terrible at keeping things hidden. I’ve seen the letters and the paintings, so I can only assume that something is going on between you two. And it did bother me. First because I didn’t think you were enough. I told myself that was the only reason, that I was just looking out for them but now I’ve realized I was tricking myself into not accepting that for the first time in my life, I was jealous of them. 

You probably won’t care about this. In fact, I am sure that before I finish this sentence this letter will already be destroyed. But I need to put this somewhere not only for my own sake, but for Virgo. If there is someone that does not deserve to suffer because of me, it’s them. 

They had a proper childhood, I did not. They are now able to experience something I have only heard about due to those corny TV dramas they love so much. And it hurts. I kept it to myself. Showing vulnerability is something I have never allowed myself to do, but when it involves love and caring, I had to bury my feelings somewhere. Except I buried my worries and let my anger and jealousy affect them. It’s not happening again. Regardless of these feelings still being present, I cannot continue hurting them just because for once, they’re thriving at something I am not.

If you are still reading, this letter is a plea for you to take care of them. And a threat as well. Because if you dare to hurt them in any way, I can promise you that all those feelings I’ve buried will come out and you will learn what dealing with what I am capable of doing when I am upset.

AVEN

I loved Desmond. Friendships don’t come easy to me, but he was talented enough to change that and earn a place in my inner circle. His last name helped, yes, but at the end of the day that was not why we remained closed.

After he was gone, blaming you was easy. Spreading rumors gave me a purpose, made me believe I had the upper hand, that I still knew better. But what I made others whispers behind your back wasn’t the only information we had. Many of us just refused to listen to it. At the end it benefitted no one but Snow. 

I’m sorry you lost your husband. That was what you deserved to hear years ago instead of our complaints and unfounded grievances. I have no way of fixing the damage I caused. I will not attempt to excuse it. It happened and you suffered deeply for it. That is what matters. 

Maybe one day you will allow me to not only explain myself, but apologize. I still have a lot to do in regards to facing all the horrible things I did and what the Capitol’s indoctrination did to my psyche, but I hope that by the time we have a chance to see each other, I will have more to offer you than an I’m sorry.

[furiousgoldfish]

So there’s one thing that keeps happening since I ran away from home and started my life as ptsd recovering brainwashed poor young person - old rich people are really eager to exploit it. I’m not talking about obscenely rich people of course, I’m nowhere near those, but there’s few elderly people living nearby who are very used to living rich and intent to keep living like that. So they figured I’m someone not only willing to help elderly, but also willing to do things their way, give them level of service they’re used to, and they got busy trying to make it feel like I owe it to them. They want a servant they can treat like trash and demand high level of service from, and get unlimited emotional coddling, and to view themselves as a huge benefactor thru it, because hey, I’m poor, whatever money they throw at me must be a huge blessing. Amount of money I get from is basically not enough to pay anything, and it changes at their whim and moods and sometimes they completely forget. They also want to control what I do with money I earned, and act like it was a gift, despite hours of work I did for them.

It’s also not work anyone could do - they’re actually old enough to get people from social service cleaning for them for free, but those cleaning people have the audacity to talk about their lives, to not be 100% submissive to orders, to have some level of pride and dignity and some resistance to criticism, so to the rich class they’re just disgusting trash who doesn’t know how to properly make them feel superior. I, on the other hand, only listen, comfort them and never raise my own problems, will apologize even if I did everything as told, will listen to baseless berating, accept blame even when I did everything right, work tirelessly for their tiniest whims, anticipate what they want done before they say it, and tolerate insane demands like it’s normal. (Most of the social service people are also so fed up with them, they keep quitting.)

I am angry these people are benefitting from massive brainwashing I’ve been thru, but my survival instincs are telling me that I need food money and to tolerate it. What I really get angry at is emotional manipulation. One of these people who is pretty much the worst towards me and puts me thru gaslighting and undeserved blame, but also tells me “you’re like a child to me” which pisses me off so much. There’s a huge difference with how they treat me and how they treat their children and I’m obviously just a lowlife servant in their eyes, yet they insist to convince me they have parental feelings about me - which they absolutely don’t. They will literally give me some of their old stuff they don’t use anymore and be like “thats your payment for work today” and remind me to be grateful. They also send me on impossible goose chase to buy things they want, which don’t even exist in stores, and even if I do trace down the exact luxury item they want, it’s not good enough, it didn’t please them, and how could I bring them this trash? They will shamelessly send me to return it, and yell at me if I don’t have the heart to argue with cashier who wont accept it.

I’m writing about this today becase now in the crisis things got absolutely ridiculous and I refused to go outside for their luxury bullshit. They’re not lacking food, there’s people with proper protection and training who are bringing them fresh groceries every day, and then they invite me over and rant at me how “the lettuce head was too small, it was barely enough to go with my lunch!” “the potatoes were too small, now they have to throw them away” “THAT IS NOT MY FAVOURITE BRAND OF BREAD” and I was just, dazed, because I haven’t gotten out of my apt to buy groceries in 10 days and I’m living on rice and lentils. This person wanted me to go out, in the middle of pandemic, to buy them potatoes that are the right size! I flatly refused and they actually trew a tantrum, ignored me for days, then invited me over insisting that I HAVE to do the shopping for them, I, as a young person am obliged to help elderly, how can I be so heartless to not provide them with food, I am making them wish to die because they have NOTHING to eat (their pantry and 2 huge fridges are stuffed full), and ranted more about how the other shopping person working for them brought them a wrong type of cola, which apparently is the worst thing that could happen during pandemic. They also blamed me for every time they couldn’t call me for help because they were holding a grudge over me last few days so obviously I was at fault. Then they wanted me to go shop for them to bring them their favourite brand of cleaning cotton.

I flatly refused again because I’m not breaking quarantine for this! And then they had the audacity to accuse me of “taking money when they paid me last time because it was supposed to pay for this next shopping trip to” (it was literally so little money I didn’t even assume it was supposed to cover anything else), and I offered to give them money back, but no, they gave me more inside-cleaning to do, and then refused to pay me for that instead, to punish me for not going shopping.

So yeah I’m filled with disgust! And it this sounds bad it’s basically not even getting to me bc my parents were thousand times worse + violent + i would get no payment ever + death threats, and its hard for these old people to threaten me since I’m physically stronger, and their gaslighting and guilt tripping only pisses me off because I’ll be damned if I take any older person’s perspective seriously ever again. I have lost my respect and benefit of doubt for anyone assuming any kind of authority over me, all of these people’s opinions are lower than trash for me. But I think, maybe this is a likely thing to happen to someone who runs away from abusive family. Getting exploited by the next predatory entitled person with illusion of power over you sounds like exactly what this world would do to abuse victims. And also I wanted to express how fucking gross rich people are and how likely they are to throw you to the pandemic for even the slightest commodity (not that we don’t already know this lol). I am so not participating in spreading the virus even if the rich person next to me, god forbid, has to peel a small potato.

[xihaveaplanxx]

The Storm (Pt 2 of 2)

“Dutch, do you want to go to Mcdonalds with us?” Hosea asked his friend. He and Arthur were going to stop by and get a few burgers and fries and a McFlurry since it’s what Reverend Swanson wanted. He was going to come in later as he was busy at the church. Overly so. It was almost time for the annual Christmas play and he and Sebastian Vael were losing their minds trying to get the kids prepared and what not. Rehearsals were almost getting violent apparently. “Dutch?” Hosea poked at him and Dutch just looked at him before shaking his head no and taking his papers into his room, slamming the door. “It’s been a few months. It’s getting scary now. What? Is he just not going to talk anymore ever again?”

“He talks at work, I’m sure.”

“No he doesn’t. He writes everything down and hands it out to everyone. She really messed him up. Jenny’s friend really messed him up, badly.”

“I haven’t even seen Dreama in some time.”

“I think Jenny mentioned she was taken before the mage council.”

“She was taken before the council?”

“Yes. Apparently she did something to that Burger King manager and she is in trouble. It was only a matter of time. I always told Erandur since she was young, to instill values in her. Not give in to all she wanted. To actually tell her no and look at how she is. I mean I adore the girl, I do but she’s not all there. Clearly. I don’t wanna be the one to say it but Anders made it worse. She’s only acting out because she can’t have him, because she can’t have something she wants. A tantrum that could end in deaths if she’s not stopped.”

“You really think it’s so bad, Hosea?”

“Look at Dutch, Arthur. It really is that bad.”

At Erandur’s house/Teldryn’s pov

“Dreama, you can’t stay locked away forever.”

“Sure I can. I have no interest in leaving this room, not ever. You and Dad told Solas about what I did to Cullen as if he fucking matters. Now I have to report to fucking Solas at least once a week and he is measuring my magical reserves to make sure I’m not over using it.  I am so fucking angry. If you just let me fucking be with Anders this wouldn’t happen but no, you guys hate him and in favor of fucking Dutch. I heard you both saying you kind of like him. He’s a nobody! He’s worthless. I hate everything!”

“You know for 30, you are mighty dramatic. Quite the child.” I sighed. “I always told Erandur to be careful with how he raised you and I see his willingness to not accept sometimes you can get off the rails is affecting you even now.  You know Dutch really likes you or likes you. He doesn’t even talk anymore because you hurt him so bad but I know you don’t care. You are too immature to care and far too deep inside of your mind over Anders to care for who you hurt.”

“Fuck off.”

“Child.” I shook my head. “Being this way won’t get Anders out of jail. He’s being watched by strong mages now. They won’t let him out. It must hurt you to know he is going to be locked away forever but if you want to waste your life hanging up on him, you go right ahead and keep hurting people who wanna be there for you. Won’t be long before you push away John or Dorian or even Jenny. You at least should apologize to Dutch for hurting him.”

“He can fuck off.”

“Fine.” I gave up. Trying to reason with her. She was still a child. I didn’t want to blame Erandur but....this was all him. Even when he got Anders rearrested, he still was thinking how to coddle Dreama and tell her it was okay and it wasn’t her fault. Though she was the one who got him broken out of jail, she was the one who bribed Geralt to let him out. She was the one who lied with this man in the first place but no, Erandur coddled her even now. I feel we need to get him in check before coping with her but it just seems everything was too late.  I left from her room door and headed downstairs. Valdimar had finished cleaning up and was watching Maury...again. I never understood why he loved it so much but he was very interested in baby momma drama and trying to figure out why people would much rather broadcast the fact they don't know the father of their baby rather than addressing it privately.  “Valdimar, I see you finished the housework. Thank you. You know even if you are the house steward, we can help you with the cleaning. You are more like a friend living here if anything.”

“It is my job to keep the house protected and clean. I know I don’t have to do much , but I like to. I like to keep things in order so I can feel like I’m doing something other than getting fat and watching MAury.”

“You aren’t remotely fat. Watching Maury though.....”

“This lady tested 20 men and none were the father. How do you let it get that bad?”

“That..wow...”

“Oh looks like number 21 isn’t the father either” He said as we watched a guy break into a dance as this girl ran to the back practically screaming. “Maker. How do you allow that to happen? 21 men...that’s.....”

“You’d think you’d stop coming to the show after five men but allowing yourself to keep coming back...I’d figure it’s just attention.”

“I don’t know if this is the type of attention I’d want.”

“Not many would.” I patted his arm. “Dreama is being a brat.”

“Don’t let Erandur hear that.” Valdimar lowered the volume on the tv “But she is. She’s been nothing but mean even to me. I made her her favorite meal and she tossed the plate at me.”

“She’s an adult. There is no reason for us to stand by this behavior. I have an idea. Erandur won’t like it but it’s for her own good.”

“What is your idea?”

“Well she doesn’t pay for anything ever. She barely works. If she wants to do what she wants, she can do it not here.”

“You can’t toss her out. She is you guy's daughter....”

“I’m doing it because I care. Erandur doesn’t have the fucking balls to stand up to the monster he created so I will. He might hate me for it and he’ll talk shit about me for it but I’m doing it for her own good. He won’t see it at first, hell he might not ever see it but it’s just how it has to be.”

Two hours later

“Are you seriously throwing me out? I’m telling Dad.”

“You don’t do anything but be immature and it’s time you are on your own. You have your job. You’ll be fine. You have fanboys right, ask them to let you live with them.”

“I....you know, you were always my least favorite dad.”

“I wish that hurt me but after being married to Erandur, nothing you say can hurt me. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You want to do what you want, if you aren’t here you can do what you want. Hell go be with Anders if you want to. I don’t care. You won’t be doing it here so go do what you want.”

“Dad will be upset about this.”

“And I’ll deal with him when he comes in but you need to go. There are tons of apartments and I know you can afford one. Even better, I’ve been saving up money from the military, I’ll get you a place. I’ll pay the first month's rent. How’s that?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Maybe it’s harsh to just toss you out on your ass though you deserve it.”

“You know what, no. Keep your money. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll pack up my shit and get the rest when I find a place. For what it’s worth, if you and dad fight again, I hope he leaves you for good. He deserved better.”

“You’d say that, you are mad.” I shook my head. “You can never hurt me, little girl.” I looked over at her. “Besides, I know you wet the bed til you were about 12. With that kind of information among other  things....nothing a child like you can say will truly ever hurt me.”

Outside Hosea’s house/Dutch’s pov

I didn’t expect to see her. It had been some time since we spoke, since I spoke in general and yet here she was. She had a suitcase and she looked angry. I was a betting man yes and I can bet she got tossed out by Teldryn. Erandur wouldn’t do such a thing but Teldryn he would and frankly I didn’t blame him. I could also bet that she wanted to stay here. Probably hoping the others weren’t here  in hopes I’d just say yes to her.  That’s unfortunate to assume.  She came up the stairs and knocked on the door. I guess I’d break that vow of silence but I knew nothing I said would be what she wanted to hear. I opened the door and she glared at me, already annoyed. I guess I took too long to answer the door. Oh poor thing. Poorly demanding possibly evil things. Hosea got on me for hanging around Micah , should have warned me of her as well. She’s worse than him in ways I can’t even word.

“Hi.”

“Dutch! I’m so glad to see you”

“Oh, are you?”

“Yes! Teldryn tossed me out and I need somewhere to stay and I want to stay here with you and Arthur and Hosea and Reverend Swanson.”

“Well John did move out to live with his boyfriend but....I’m sorry, you can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“Why?  Did you really ask me why after what you did to me?”

“Oh come on, you can not think I’d actually like you. Please Dutch, I have morals.”

“Oh yes, morals that made you go after Anders. The same morals that say you flirt with Micah because you wanted his knife. He’s a weak, terrible man, course he gave you it but I saw you that day. I did. I never told anyone because I mean who would want to admit they were like that with him but you were. You are just....too old to be like this . I never wanted to say that to someone but you are. You are legit a child in an adult body. Throw fits when you can’t get what you want, manipulate people and for what?”

“You are an asshole, Dutch.”

“Oh you’d know all about being an asshole.” 

“You are legit mad that I don’t like you. For no reason.”

“No, I'm mad that you used me and got what you wanted and discarded me. You knew I loved you but you didn’t care. You never care. You just want to climb on people and dump them off. It’s the fate of anyone but Anders but he’s locked up forever now isn’t he? How unfortunate for you.”

“I hate you, Dutch.”

“I think I might hate you more.” He looked at her. “How about you just don’t bother me anymore. I won’t bother you, you don’t need to bother me. How’s that? We’ll just go on like we've never met.”

“But where will I go? I need somewhere to stay”

“Why is that my issue? You don’t give a fuck about me....I am not required to care about you....not anymore.”