#fighting all the bad thoughts today but in doing so had a dissociative episode at work lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

creacherkeeper · 3 years ago

Text

im getting a little too in my family feels today and so INSTEAD of feeling those im just going to ramble for a second about why i fucking love paladin!aelwyn because. im. just like this i guess im coping leave me alone

cw for discussions of child abuse, maladaptive coping, drugs and alcohol, self harm, destructive tendencies, basically everything we see in canon and the implications

aelwyn is ... SO interesting to me because for as much of her interiority as we see, as much of her as we think we understand, as much as i could ramble about her character for hours, we know ALMOST NOTHING about her in actuality?? (besides ... one key thing)

(this is like 2k and probably incoherent someone please stop me)

okay. listen. almost everything we see aelwyn do in s1 is maladaptive rebellion against her parents and home life. the drinking, the drugs, the partying, perhaps some of kalvaxus (though i dont think we fully understand how much of that was forced on her as well, kalina WAS watching her when she was talking to adaine about it). you can say like, oh aelwyn is a party animal, she's impulsive, she makes risky decisions, she's bitchy and rude, and its like. okay but IS SHE ACTUALLY. because under her parents thumb she had an EXTREMELY limited amount of freedom, and usually when people are suffering from very little control over their life, they WILL act destructively over the tiny bit they can, either harming themselves or their environment or people lower than them in the pecking order, because in a way, that feels like a reclamation of autonomy. saying "you have so much power over me but can you stop me from hurting myself and destroying what you havent managed to claim yet?". its just like, kind of what human brains do and frequently has little to do with a persons actual personality or impulses, its just. desperate brains trying to control SOMETHING because autonomy is a fundamental human need and when thats taken away we get. very bad off. (this is one big reason eating disorders are SO common with abused kids.) so i think a lot of the s1 aelwyn we see is like. this is a very desperate, abused teenager "acting out" in the only way it is possibly somewhat safe for her to do so because, on a psychological level, the self destruction is weirdly the only emotional tether and its either this or just dissociate all the time (something we do see she has problems with in canon)

and yes, she did treat adaine horribly in s1. she fully did. obviously what we get in canon is what happens but a moment thats interesting to me is in episode 1 where adaine has attacked aelwyn several times, who either does nothing or just bounces it back, when she says "i never cast spells at you" and siobhan immediately retcons it and says "yes you do, all the time" (i havent gone back and watched this bit so i might be wording this wrong). obviously its an improv show and the canon is built between performers as they go, but that was interesting to me. that brennan hadnt intended for her to have fought back in that way. she definitely feeds into the emotional abuse from their parents and participates in all the toxicity there, but we know in canon that she did that because of overwhelming fear and self preservation. and that her self hatred because of it just fed back into the cycle and made her feel like she wasnt good enough to even try to break free from it. this is very common in golden child/scapegoat sibling relationships where the golden child SEES what the parents are capable of and becomes a participant in the abuse out of fear for their own standing. in any way siding with the scapegoat child not only directs abuse at themselves as well, but frequently makes things WORSE for the scapegoat because the parents will take out the challenge to their power on them even more. so, if aelwyn DID ever try to defend or help adaine when they were small, she would have VERY QUICKLY learned that made things worse for everyone. and just. sectioned that part of her brain off, as she's done with so many other things. (and i dont think im reading too much into the forest scene with the abernants to say their parents were VERY QUICK to turn abuse towards aelwyn if she stepped out of line even a little. like, you dont flinch when a hand moves unless. you know. dont need to say it just something to think about. as far as we saw in canon, she had done everything they asked of her leading up to the forest, and we DONT KNOW what happened in it but we do know brennan specifically called out how in broken spirits she was when adaine was summoned, even though they did the ritual to avoid all of the nightmare bullshit)

(the house party is literally a whole separate post but i think its fair to point out that 1) she was super under the influence when that was happening which DEFINITELY is in no way an excuse for her behavior but worth remembering when trying to analyze that 2) her losing that fight did canonically have DRASTIC consequences for her and even if she didnt know exactly how that was going to turn out, i think she knew how bad it might be. and she did not know adaine or any of the bad kids were going to be there in the first place)

all that said, it feels in some ways counterproductive to say that aelwyn is an extremely devoted and protective person (yes we're getting to the paladin shit i know i've been rambling a while) but i think that thats strangely ALL WE ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT HER. because we've established that her self-destructive and abusive behavior in s1 is almost entirely psychologically scripted for her by her parents, we dont know how much of her villain shit in s1 was LITERALLY UNDER THREAT OF DEATH because we know at least killing the oracle was and we dont know how much of the rest of it was mandated by either her parents or kalina other than that she probably was under orders not to tell adaine the truth, and we know participating in all of this caused extreme self loathing in her that she refused to show to anybody and was too terrified to act on in any way

so, like. what does that actually leave us?

here's what we do know about aelwyn:

- of all the schools of magic, she went into abjuration

- the entire bbeg plan from season 1 hinged on aelwyn's complete faith that her level 1 sister was the most prodigious diviner in the world

- right after (?) the house party, she locked her memories where only adaine could find it with a note basically saying "theres so much bad blood between us but i know only you could find this"

- she desperately wanted to protect adaine and the fact that she was too afraid to do so made her hate herself (and her knowing that adaine now knows this is the turning point in their relationship)

- despite everything, even in the nmk forest, she still loved her parents

- the SECOND she is shown genuine love and affection and care from adaine, and adaine says whatever you do, i am here with you, all her actions from there forward are just about protecting adaine from their father, very nearly at the cost of her own life

- with what she probably thought were her last words (and would have been if adaine hadnt given her the tincture), all she wanted to communicate was how to help adaine and the bad kids, and how despite everything she had always believed in her

- at five levels of exhaustion, unconscious, she used her first spell slot after nine months of torture to build a shield around adaine

NOW we get to paladin!aelwyn. because, once everything is stripped away, the abuse and the control and the maladaption and the threats and the torture, EVERYTHING we ACTUALLY can glean about aelwyn's personality and inner core is that she's protective and devoted. and of course classes arent locked by personality, but that just screams paladin to me. its her WHOLE THING. adaine even says "wizards dont have heals, we dont care about other people" and of COURSE that isnt true for either of them, but? mechanically? aelwyn chose the wizard school that DID let her protect, and DID let her help, but i dont think, at this point, going forward, thats really going to be enough for her (and we could also talk about the parallels between them, how often adaine uses her portents to help other people)

i think a lot of the different reads on aelwyn come from this fundamental disconnect between her actions and displayed personality vs who she actually is and what she actually wants. and i think there are very different interpretations of what thats going to look like for her going forward. but i think, for a girl who's most hated characteristic about herself was her self preservation at the detriment of others, her perceived selfishness, and her fear ... isn't choosing to be braver and more selfless and more protective and shedding that self-preserving instinct for the betterment of others ... and MECHANICALLY being able to act on all those things ... the logical next step? i think its going to be a LONG TIME before aelwyn can love herself, but what other way is there to try? if adaine loves her, and adaine believes she can be better, isnt being better because she trusts adaine kind of a form of self love? saying, i dont believe in myself, but i believe in the person who believes in me, and maybe, in a roundabout way, thats the same thing. she was never able to TRY to be better before, because trying to improve even a little, even when people arent watching, when a harmful force has so much power over you and your actions ... like, the mental dissonance is honestly TOO much to even try, thats WAY more terrifying than letting yourself be bad, to the point where thats psychologically impossible for a lot of people. but now she actually has space and freedom and CHOICE and she CAN embrace the instincts she always had to shove down, she CAN be the person she knows her sister needed her to be

i dont know, i think theres an inherent love letter to yourself in wanting to be better and wanting to improve, even if you justify it by saying its for someone else. and now aelwyn actually CAN improve, and thats probably going to be extremely awkward and scary and there will be set backs and backslides for sure. but. i dont know. i think she wants to make up for lost time. because she never wanted the time to be lost in the first place. and if a protector is who she always wanted to be, whats stopping her from being that now?

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #aelwyn abernant #WHO LET ME WRITE ALL THIS #does this even. fucking. make sense. who knows.#THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT

40 notes · View notes

lilousmustaches · 4 years ago

Text

L.A nightmares

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: TW!!! Sexual harassement, authorities using their power in a nasty way, dissociating, anxiety.

Notes: Hey! Here i am after years writing Jensen x reader again! How do you feel about it? But okay... this fic. I had this idea when i saw a thread on twitter that told a story about an event that Jensen was with Danneel, they saw a girl being harassed and Jensen immediataly intervened. I can't find this post anywhere but i truly believe that he is that type of guy. Be safe out there ladies!

Summary: Jensen and the reader are co-stars and travel to L.A together, just to pass throught a series of unfortunate events.

xxXXxxXXxx

"Here's the next week script (Y/N)." A girl that worked around the set said polity handing you a large new script. You had seen her around before, what was her name? Lauren... Laura! Was Laura. You hated not knowing people's name, especially those who worked with you and for you, but it was so many people walking around, everyday a new person, that made it a bit hard.

"Thanks Laura!" You asked with a small smile that she retributed and walked away. You started to leafing through the next script seeing that you had more scenes in this episode than in the last two you appeared.

"(Y/N)!" Someone shouted making you immediately lift your gaze seeing a smiling Jensen in front of you. "I didn't know you would be here today!" He said hugging you and felt almost dizzy with his perfume. He was definitely one of most good smelling men you ever came across.

"You seen me yesterday J." You said laughing breaking the hug and the struggled.

"Still missing you though." He said putting his arms in your shoulders and started walking with you again. You had entered the Supernatural cast years before, being a really important character and recently, Sam's love interest. You didn't appeared on every episode but in the most of them, like Misha, for example. Because of this, he was one of your best friends, along with the boys that eventually you became inseparable. Always hanging out together, laughing and pranking each other. It truly was a family. Although you had to kiss Jared sometimes because of some scenes, you saw him practically like a older brother. But with Jensen... Well, that was a whole another story. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought that you had already taken the fight for L.A"

"I had to adjust some details of my last scene." You explained. "Why? You wanted me gone, that bad?" You joked hearing him huffing.

"Well, yeah, I can't even look at your face anymore." Jensen joked back making you roll your eyes and he laughed, squeezing you harder. "Just kidding sweetheart, you know pretty damn well that I never can bring myself to be tired of you." He said like it was nothing making you blush a little bit. Usual.

You were already in the outside part of the set and spotted Jared and Misha coming at your direction.

"Good things to say Ackles, because I will be going with you to L.A" You explained when the boys came closer.

"Really? Thank god you will be saving me from a boring trip with that moron." Jared said stepping up in the conversation referring to Jensen, because Misha wouldn't be able to go to this one, and you smiled. You would take a fight a few days earlier than the boys but because of the problem with one scene, you had to go with them.

"Really, argh, I'm so excited." You said making a strange face and they laughed. "It's going to be my first award!"

"It's gonna be fun." Jared said and Jensen smiled in adoration looking at you, lot shorter than him and a few years younger.

None of you knowing what kind of things this trip could bring. And man, there were a lot.

XxXxXxxXx

"Wow." Jensen breathed out stepping up in the apartment you would share in this three days in the city of angels, Los Angeles. Some of the cast had to come to be present in a award that was going to happen in the city. Jared and Genevieve, his wife, opted to stay in a hotel but you had this friend that was out of town and offered her place for you to stay, and you took it, inviting Jensen since you knew he wasn't a big fan of hotels.

"Pretty nice, hun?" You said with a little smile realizing that it had been a while since you stayed in there and he nodded.

"Tell me about it." He said looking around. The place was pretty wide and cozy. A little fancy but with a lot of little fun things, like a orange table, some colorful frames around and a blue fridge. Your personal favorite.

You two adjusted yourselves in the two guests rooms that had in the apartment beside the suite and started to get ready for the dinner Gen invited you. It was some friends of her and some producers, directors and a bunch of kind of important people in the movie industry. You didn't recognize any of the names Jensen told you that would be attempting to it, but why the hell not, you wanted a fun night with some of your friends.

You finally finished your makeup and with a last look in the mirror you step out of the room going to the living room, only to find Jensen there, sitting on the couch, ready to go, scrolling throught his phone. Soon as he heard your high heels getting closer, he lifted his gaze, losing his breath for the second time this day.

"Wow." He breathed out looking at you with a loose short black dress, red high heels and lipstick. "You look beautiful (Y/N)." He said honestly staring at you and you felt yourself blush.

The truth was that you were completely in love with him. For a few years now. Since you started the series, Jensen caught your eye. I mean, how could he not? He was handsome, funny, sweet, always smelling good and the most important thing.... He was caring. Jensen Ackles was one of the most caring guys you knew. Got a problem? Jensen would listen. Hell, Jensen would solve it. And not just with his closest friends, but with everybody around him. He always offered help, not matter what. He makes sure his PA, and the people around set already had breakfast before work. He makes sure to offers to take water, every time someone get drunk on the casts parties. It was the details. And you loved them all.

You quickly became friends, and you were okay with being just that. Besides the friendly flirting it's not like you expected something else. Just having someone as incredible as him to call your friend was enough.

"Well, you don't look too bad yourself." You said and he laughed, rolling his eyes getting up of the sofa. "But thank you."

"I meant it (Y/N), you look like you could break some hearts tonight." Jensen continued to compliment you as he opened the apartment door. "But let's go miss, Jared said that we are already late."

You called an Uber to take the two of you to the restaurant placed in DownTown, a district in Los Angeles, one of your favorite parts of the city. Although you enjoyed every little piece of it, you just loved L.A, it made you feel good. After some minutes in the car, and some easy going conversation with Jensen, the driver announced you had arrived. Just for the entrance you could tell it was fancy.

"I thought it was just a dinner." You said immediately when you entered the place, looking around seeing that the restaurant was closed for the event and everybody was up talking and walking around. Some waiters were passing serving some food and some of them with trays serving wine, whiskey and champagne.

"Yeah, I thought so too" Jensen said, looking around surprised as well. "Hollywood, and their people with grandeur complex." He said making you chuckle.

"(Y/N)! Jensen!" You heard and spotted Jared smiling and waving you, with Genevieve by his side. You and Jensen reached them, after a waiter stopped you offering something to drink, you went with wine and Jensen with whiskey. "You finally got here! I was already thinking you wouldn't make it."

"Stop being dramatic, we were just a little late." Jensen said hugging his friend and then Gen. You doing the same.

"(Y/N) is so good to see you, it has been a while hasn't it?" Gen said breaking the hug and you agreed. Since you became friends with Jared, the friendship with Gen came along and you two just hit so well, in the set, your friends was mostly males and you loved having some girl company when she was around. She introduced you to her friends, that first invited her to the event. They were also actors, and they explained how they met in a project Gen was part of when she was just beginning her career.

"So, are you guys excited about tomorrow? Heard you're competing in two categories right?" Aaron, one of Gen's friends, said referring to the awards you would be attending because of Supernatural.

"Yeah! Especially this girl here who is totally a award virgin." Jared joked putting his hands on your shoulders and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

"Can you blame me? It's a big step in someone's career!" You defended yourself. "Oh it definitely is! I remembering when I went to my first award, I was so nervous and I wasn't even running for anything." Aaron laughed taking a sip of his wine. "It's just a great place to meet important people."

"It sure is." Yan, the other friend, agreed. "But if I'm being honest, we are just in the right place for networking right now. Every big fish that can hire and fire you from any huge project in the industry is here tonight."

"I noticed... That guy over the balcony is practically one of CW's owners right?" Jensen said holding his whiskey, discreetly pointing at some guy behind you. Your turned around to look, after all one he was one of the owners of the channel Supernatural passed. The guy was a lot older, bald and plus sided, but you quickly turned around when he caught you facing.

"Yep, Tony Garcia." Aaron answered. The six of you passed a few more minutes talking and drinking, until they parted to talk to more people that was there. You got that Tony guy staring from time to time. You walked with Jensen for a bit, meeting some great and important people, as Yan had said. Talked for some time with Jared, he was already funny but got even funnier when he was tipsy. And finally, passed some time with Gen... until you had to go to the bathroom.

"(Y/N) right? The Supernatural star!" The Tony guy stopped you when you were getting out of the toilet, in your way back to Jensen that was laughing with some other three mans. You laughed a little embarrassed, why that guy knew your name? Okay, you literally worked for him but he was way far away in the enterprise.

"I don't if it could be called that, but yeah! I'm (Y/N), pleasure to meet you!" You said smiling extending your hand to him and he quickly shake his head.

"Nah, I don't do hand shakes with beautiful woman like you." Tony said with a laugh already pulling you to a hug. His hand in your back was dangerously close to your butt, his breath stank like whiskey - a great amount of that -, the tone of his voice and the intimacy he putted on the hug was enough to make you uncomfortable. This wasn't right. You could sense something was terrible wrong. "And believe me when I say beautiful, I mean something else."

"Ha ha." You gave him a yellow smile already grossed out by the man in front of you. What he was implying? "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Garcia, but if you excuse me I-..."

"So you know who I am!" He interrupted you, interrupting your way to leaving the conversation too. His tone already implied power and dominance, as if his name had a big weight in the conversation. "Well, as one of the CW's owners I have to say Supernatural brings a lot of benefits for us. I'm happy about the success of the series! I can see why the audience increased after your entrance." Tony said with pure maliciousness in his voice looking you up and down, showing no shame, looking you as if you were totally naked. "I believe woman don't last much on the show, but it would be a shame if you had to leave." He said and you knew that it was a threat. He was threading you.

You gulped feeling your throat burning from holding back tears. The only words that crossed your mind was 'Every big fish that can hire and fire you'. God, you were a woman, unfortunately harassment was something you experienced all your life but it didn't make any less painful anytime it happened. The fame industry was gross and you knew that. You heard horrible stories about girls having to do every kind of sick bullshit to only get a chance for audition. You were so thankful that none of it happened to you, that you found a show with the most respectful co-workers and producers you could ever think of. But there you were, face-to-face to some sick nasty man that had the power to fire you in a snap of his fingers.

"It would indeed." You said forcing a smile, taking a sip of the wine in your hands.

"I have to say, you have such a beautiful mouth." He said. "I wonder what it can do."

"It sure can drink." You said laughing nervously drinking the entire wine that was left in your glass. Only your glass was still half full. It didn't burned more than holding back the tears though.

"Oh princess, no need to be nervous around me." Tony said laughing and you immediately related to the sound of a pig. That was what he was. A pig. Once again he passed his arm around your body pulling you close and resting his hand, this time, just down your boob but close enough to be touching. You were trapped in his grip, so close to his face, feeling that alcohol breath. You couldn't think the last time you were so uncomfortable, you needed to get out of there, you just needed. Every single part of your body yelled dangerous. "We're all friends here.... We can even be more than it tonight."

"Hey." You heard a deep voice by your side and you almost missed the sight of Jensen's hard expression by the tears that now was blurring your eyes. "Let go man, I believe you're making her uncomfortable."

"Hey..." Tony laughed looking at Jensen, letting you go and you didn't noticed you were holding your breath until that moment. You immediately stepped away from Tony, going to Jensen's side. "We were just chilling... what? Playing Dean for so long that incorporated the hero type?"

"Yeah, it didn't look like chilling to me." Jensen said not losing his posture and not falling for any of his bullshit. Jensen was in the middle of a conversation with some directors, exchanges tips, when he saw you from far away simply drinking your whole glass of wine all at once. He knew you to well to notice something was wrong, and he didn't need more than 10 seconds to understand what was happening. "And relax! I know how to separate my character really well, but I do believe we have basic ethics principles in common."

"Okay smart boy." Tony said with now anger is his features. "Remembering who you are taking to. Supernatural can turn into a one star show really quick. And you..." He said turning to you. "Consider yourself fired."

"As far as I know you don't decide shit about my show, but I do know that you need to start respecting women." Jensen said in the same low tone, with anger in every word. "Excuse me."

Jensen leaded you the way making sure you didn't even pass near Tony again, he was with a gentle hand in your back almost not touching you and quickly you two were already outside and you saw him calling a cab.

"I'm sorry (Y/N), I got so angry... You wanna go home or you want to stay more? That dick won't get any closer to you, I promise." Jensen asked turning to you and looking straight into your eyes with concerned.

"I just wanna go home Jens." You said with a chocked voice letting the first tear fall down. You were in shock, practically shivering. You always says to yourself that the next time something like that happens, you were going to stand, be loud and not take it quietly. But every time you freeze. Every fucking time.

You dissociated the entire way back home, with a million thoughts in your head and at the same time, none. You noticed with the corner of your eyes, Jensen constantly looking at you to check and typing something on his phone, probably letting Jared know what happened and why you headed off. He didn't try to talk to you, and honestly you were grateful for that.

Immediately when you entered the apartment, you went to the shower. The water was burning hot but it felt like nothing in your body. You didn't know what trigged you so hard, thinking about it, the situation was kind of quick and it could have been a million times worse. But you were so scared that he would fulfill his word. Mans like him don't just accept being rejected, you felt so small.... Almost guilty. Tears started to fall down desperately and sobs got out of your mouth. You didn't know how much time you passed in the bath but saw some clothes in the bed you were sleeping when you got out. A grey sweatshirt and some boys shorts. Jensen.

"Hey..." You said with a small voice standing by the door of the room Jensen was sleeping, seeing him sitting by the end of the bed scrolling through his phone. "Thanks for the clothes."

"Comfort sweatshirt right?" He joked seeing you in his clothes, referring to when you stole it on set and he passed days looking for it until he found you sleeping in his coat and listen to the excuse that it was your 'comfort sweatshirt', that it made you happy and safe. "Hey... com' here"

Jensen said with a soft voice when he saw your face struggling to hold back the tears. He back out laying in the left side of the bed opening his arms for you to join him, and you immediately did. Nestling in his chest, he hugged you strong hearing you cry quietly into his neck.

"You know... This is not even the worst that happen to me." You said when you calmed down after some minutes of cuddling in silence and Jensen moved his face away just enough to stare at you, but stayed quiet waiting for you to get out of your chest whatever you needed. "These situations had been happening with me, well with all women, since before we even know what this means. Teachers, taxi driver's, superiors, random people in public places, friends... I just... Tell myself that the next time something like that happen I will stood up for it. But every time it happens I just loose all my courage."

"And this it's not on you (y/n). This is unacceptable, shouldn't be happening at all and it's not your fault not having a response for it. This shouldn't be a situation you must be prepared for." Jensen said frowning his eyebrows looking at you deadly serious. "I'm so sorry you have to go through that bullshit almost daily. It fucking pisses me off."

"Yeah I'm sorry too." You said with a weak smile feeling him stroking his thumb slowly in your back where his hand stood. "Do you think he can fire me?"

"No." Jensen said with certain. "He has nothing to do with Supernatural productions. And even if he could, I wouldn't let them. If he wants you gone, i would be gone too."

"Jensen..." You were speechless. "Us women really suffer daily, but it makes a little better knowing that there are at least some guys out there that truly respect us. I am lucky to have fell in a job full of you. I really appreciate what you did for me today Jensen."

"I'm always gonna be here for you (Y/N)... And it's truly that least I can do." Jensen said with a rough voice. "There was this time on set, before you were even in the series, that Jared's PA was harassed by a camera man... Nobody saw the moment and from one day to another she asked for resignation. Nobody understood and we continued to treat the guy like a friend for months until we finally discovered what happened. I just.... I'm just glad that I was there with you tonight."

You just gave him a small smile feeling your heart so full that could explode. It was an awful night, it really was. But Jensen... He was everything you could ever ask in a friend. You hugged him strong and got into a position where your foreheads were touching. Yours and Jensen's eyes were closed but you could feel his breathing and the warm of his lips almost touching yours. You didn't know how long you stayed in that position but you surely didn't want that to end.

"I could be like this every single day." You said before you even could stop yourself and frowned when the realization hit you. "Wait did I just confessed?"

He squeezed your waist to make you open your eyes that stood close because of the embarrassment, and you had to hold your breath when saw Jensen's green eyes, so vivid, looking so close at your tenderly.

"Yeah? Cause I would too" Jensen breathed out feeling a weight off his chest. What that really happening? The women he had feeling for months now, in front of him telling she liked him? He saw in your eyes the relief you felt cause of his confession and slowly finally gave you a long chaste kiss.

You both knew that this was enough for now. The cuddling, the comfort of each other and the lightness of knowing the feeling were both sided was enough. There was going to have the moment for your skin meet his and there was going to have the moment for a serious conversation about your feelings.

But for now all that matters was being in each other arms, and sensing that the night that started like a nightmare turned into a dream.

Tagging: @esoltis280 @smoothdogsgirl @helloangelicaaaaa @sleepylunarwolf @sympathyforluci @mirandaaustin93 @atc74 @spnbaby-67 @reginaphalange2403 @hi-my-name-is-riley @mychemicalimagines @multifandomlover121

107 notes · View notes

disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

Text

in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process.

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard.

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode.

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress.

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it.

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned.

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high.

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense.

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done.

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire.

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from��chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff.

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront.

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

122 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

Text

Flower | 17

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, very slight fluff

; Word Count: 6k

; Warnings: Emotional breakdown, depiction of a panic/anxiety attack, in depth discussion/description of depression, brief mentions of suicide, lack of self-worth, self-hatred, self-doubt, dissociation

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I haven’t proof read because...well I don’t really want to re-read it. So forgive me for any mistakes! It’s early by a day because I’ve missed a few weeks so I want you all to have something on what is a rainy night here in England <3

PLEASE make sure to read the warnings on this one. This chapter is very hard hitting for anyone who has suffered depression/anxiety. I put myself back in the position I was in last year when I had my own breakdown and I know people have said before that I write in a way that makes you feel what the character is feeling. Therefore, please don’t read if you’re going to be affected by the warnings! And please also be kind if you don’t agree with the way I depicted this. This is how my own depression and anxiety affected me, only I didn’t have a Hoseok in my life. The experiences the reader goes through in this are the ones I personally have experienced. It’s still a reader insert, don’t worry. She after all has a lot of things I don’t, and I’m also okay, so don’t worry on that front either! If you feel upset about anything after reading this, please consider reaching out to friends, family, professionals or a helpline that specialises in it!

And remember throughout everything...you’re not alone! You’re not worthless and you are loved. <3

Leaning against the railing outside your work building, you let out a deep and heavy sigh as you read through the email you’d just received. It’s a rejection email. The third rejection email you’d received today and the twenty-third you’d received in two weeks.

After an in-depth talk with your parents and support from Chungha, Soyeon and Hoseok, you’d decided to finally try and get that career change you’d always wanted. Though you’d pointed out that you didn’t know what you wanted from life anymore.

You didn’t know what you wanted full stop.

One of the things that you’d been most afraid of when you’d realised that your relationship with Hoseok was turning into something genuine and real, had been what was going to come after. Not in terms of breaking up, though that did terrify you as well, but how your mental state was going to cope.

You’d tried to explain it to the girls a few times in an effort to get them to understand what went on in your rollercoaster of a mind, and you’d clumsily told Hoseok a few months ago. Or you’d tried at least.

Talking about your emotions wasn’t easy for you and the fear of being too honest about something so crippling with someone who meant so much to you already had scared you away from telling him too much. Your mind had balked at it, afraid that if he found out just how bad you got sometimes that he might just leave before he got in too deep.

So you’d given him a very bare bones explanation of what happened to you sometimes. He probably didn’t think too much of it at the moment as you’d been pretty cheerful throughout the start of your relationship; the bliss of him overriding any of your deep seated depression and anxieties.

Hoseok was obviously aware that you suffered from anxiety and had been very caring in regards to that, but it was entirely different to be with someone in the grip of a depressive episode. Your form of depression could almost be charted, it was that easy to see what was coming, and you’d been so afraid for the last few weeks.

The lethargy and disinterest that associated itself so strongly with your depression had been creeping back into your life slowly. It had frightened you, but you just didn’t know how to combat it. Doing things that were big or made you extremely happy always seemed to come with a huge cost, and the cost was unfortunately your mental health.

Every single time you felt exhilarating highs in your emotions, the feelings so joyful and euphoric from your excitement and pure happiness, you suffered a plunging crash afterwards that often felt like it sucked the joy out of your life. It was something you’d tried to cope with for years now, and sometimes you could go months upon months without feeling like it was affecting you.

But the happiness of finding Hoseok and all of the early stages of your relationship, from the first kiss to sex and meeting your parents, had finally waned. The last few weeks had the deep sense of unhappiness that plagued your negative moods spreading quickly.

It had started as usual with the slowly losing interest in going out; the energy you’d once had to be social outside of your apartment dying until the idea of anything other than work or grocery shopping was too much effort. Then had come the lack of interest in anything.

You’d always found it hard to see that you were slipping, only recognising it properly when you would realise that you’d been laid on your bed or the couch for hours on end, doing nothing at all. Any attempts to find something to watch on television failed as your brain couldn’t find anything interesting enough to keep it’s attention, games sat unplayed as you couldn’t find the energy to turn them on while even just reading bored you.

In particularly bad spells, such as your final year of college when you’d been so afraid of failing but also afraid of having to go into the real world, you struggled to find the energy to even get out of bed. Hygiene only became a thing because of your severe distaste of being unclean, but other than that your bed often became your home.

You would sleep for hours upon hours, napping the day’s away as you consoled yourself with the knowledge that you didn’t have anything to do and so therefore didn’t need to get up. Even though a small voice in the back of your mind told you that no, you should get up. You should do something.

That small voice was drowned out often though. Vanishing on a fast current of melancholy. It frightened you that you were experiencing that now again, even with the wonderful light and joy that was Hoseok in your life. Waking up long after he’d already gotten up on the weekend and realising that you didn’t want to get up and follow him, that not even the comfort of his arms was enough to soothe the jagged hole inside your soul that seemed to grow deeper and wider with every day that passed.

Applying for the jobs had been an appeasement to those in your life who were worried about you. You knew that Hoseok could tell something was wrong, but he just didn’t seem to know what to do or how to help. Understandable really, as you didn’t tell him what was wrong.

But staring down at your phone screen, the black letters bold against the white background that once more proclaimed you weren’t good enough, you felt something deep inside you break. Something that you hadn’t realised was holding on by the thinnest thread, chafing away with each negative thought that had passed through your mind over the years.

What’s the point?

The insipid question whispers through your mind.

Why am I trying?

A second slithers into place, taking comfort with its neighbour.

Why am I doing this?

A third nestles safely between the two brooding thoughts.

I’ll never be good enough for anything.

Leaning your head forehead, you let it rest on your hand on the railing, eyes closing as your other hand tightens on your phone. The hopelessness that your mind has spun to life explodes to life, multiplying into countless thoughts of desolation and gloom that somehow combine together to make your head feel heavy and your limbs tired.

Slumping down onto the ground, you turn and let your back press against the railings. It was your lunch currently and you were at the back of the parking lot that faced your building, the facade blank with no clue as to what was going on inside.

Blinking slowly, you realise that your breath is stuttering, almost choking itself. Like your throat is closing around nothing while your heart races a thousand miles a minute. Glancing down, you realise that your hands are shaking violently and you try to swallow, the movement so hard. And then you press a palm to your chest, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you simply try to breath.

But it all feels too much. It’s all just too much.

There’s nothing inside your head but despondency and yet your body feels too much, like it can’t cope. Your mind swings violently between the white fuzz of nothing and the sheer panic of a looming sense of dread, the fear of failure, rejection. The fear that you meant nothing and your life was nothing.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s a simple thought, only five words long and it dances through your mind like a leaf on the breeze. Effortless and simple.

For a few seconds you think nothing of it, the part of your mind that wasn’t well agreeing with it and conceding that there was no point anymore. You weren’t doing anything useful in life anyway and you doubted anyone would truly notice if you’d gone. A cog in the machine of life, that’s all you were.

And cogs could be replaced after all.

But then that tiny voice that had been washed away earlier appeared again, resolute and defiant against the tidal waves of desolation that swamped it. The tiny kernel of hope and happiness that you’d once had, that had slowly grown and blossomed into a tree with roots so deep it couldn’t be moved. It was a little dejected and a little threadbare from lack of nourishment, but it was there all the same.

The part of you that didn’t want to give up, the part of you that wanted to fight for your life. The part that had spurred you to confidence to message Hoseok, that had encouraged you to keep going in college. The part of you that told you it didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to give in.

Your lungs are heaving now, body hunched over as you grip your legs so tightly, head pressed to your knees while salty tears drip down your face. A heartbeat that feels like it’s working overtime is so loud you can feel it in your chest, the tension in your arms and torso so strong that your muscles hurt from the ache of holding them for so long.

Eyes hot and stinging as the tears overflow, you press hard on your chest and try to regulate your breathing. Try to calm yourself down, to bring yourself back from the precipice of the pain and panic that you feel. The overwhelming rollercoaster of your emotions is giving you whiplash, the melancholy you had been swept with being beaten savagely by the fear of your inability to breath and the panic of how dark your thoughts had gotten.

You needed to talk to someone, you needed to see someone. You needed someone there, someone to tell you that it was okay. That you weren’t worthless. That you had value, that you were loved. That you would be missed. That life wouldn’t be okay without you, that you were needed and necessary. Someone to push away your thoughts for long enough to just let you think clearly.

You don’t even realise you’ve dialled his number, fingers moving on autopilot as if your body is trying to help when your mind has become so paralysed. It’s not until his voice finally manages to pierce through the incessant self-flagellation that your mind is undertaking that you blink in confusion, brow creasing as you wonder why he’s here.

Glancing up, you wipe away at the tears that keep falling and stare at your phone, squinting to focus. The familiar smiling face of your boyfriend stares back, a photo taken weeks back on a date day to the beach. Your heart clenched tightly and your breath shudders, the wheezing sound as your lungs work hard to try and get oxygen loud as you have the odd mixture of desperation to talk to him along with the dread of annoying him.

One of the things you’ve always hated was talking about these personal issues with people. Even though you knew rationally that people would rather you tell them about what was worrying and upsetting you, the gleefully self-destructive part of your mind told you that you were annoying them with your concerns.

But Hoseok was talking through the small speaker, his voice loud against the quiet scenery around you with only your hyperventilated breathing being the odd noise. And then his words finally made sense, the syllables that had broken through your ennui turning into sounds you understood.

It was the confusion in them that caused you to listen properly at first, the way he said your name repeatedly before the ragged sound of your breathing obviously began to register. Then your name became more frantic, the fear in his voice slicing through your own inner wail of despair.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N are you there? Hellooo? Y/N? Are you okay? Hey, are you...Y/N are you crying? Y/N? Talk to me, come on. Answer me sweetheart, baby answer me. Y/N what’s wrong? Are you crying? Y/N please answer.” His voice is getting progressively louder, the concern and worry louder and you suddenly feel even more self-loathing at the knowledge you’ve panicked him.

“Hobi.” It’s all you can get out though, the word pushing past the tightness of your throat as it contracts so violently, air struggling to get past. Clutching your chest, you recognise an odd wailing sound that escapes with each breath outwards. Hands shaking, you press the phone to your ear and let out a broken sob, trying to talk to him.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? Has something happened? Are you okay? Have you had an accident? Is it your parents?” He fires questions at you quickly, trying to find some answer as to why his girlfriend has called him in the middle of a workday only to be sobbing and wailing down the phone at him.

Particularly when you both knew how much you despised talking on the phone.

But just the sound of his voice is soothing to the frayed nerves within you, a balm to the deep and aching pain that lurks inside. It’s not enough to pull you out your breakdown, not yet at least. This isn’t a film and television show and you’re aware enough to realise that real life doesn’t happen like that.

God you felt warm, so warm. So unbelievably warm but the sweat on your skin is cold, like you’re ill. Squeezing your eyes shut, you choke as you inhale too fast and your diaphragm jerks in a way that has you almost hiccuping.

Even though he doesn’t actually know what’s happening, Hoseok still manages to do the right thing. Because he stops his own panicked questions, his voice suddenly stabilises and a calm tone taking over.

“Okay baby...baby, listen to me. Okay, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay sweetheart, I swear. Come on, can you hear me?” A torn sound of acknowledgement leaves you, your muscles aching with tiredness from how hard you’ve held yourself.

“That’s good, that’s really good baby. I want you to listen to me, okay? Listen to what I say and then do it for me. I want you to try and breathe in, take a big breath. Really big, come on, do it with me,” You hear him inhale loudly and you try to follow, the shakiness overtaking. “And now it let out. Nice and slow, come on. Do it again.”

He continues on encouraging you through it, his deep voice that you’ve fallen so deeply for so soothing and reassuring. It almost makes you want to cry just hearing it, but you listen to what he says. Closing your own eyes and simply focusing on inhaling and exhaling, pushing all the negativity away until all that’s left is breathing.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, you realise that your breaths are jerky but almost stable. Deep breathes in and out help your body to relax itself, muscles releasing while the demons of depression and anxiety take a step back in your mind. They’re still there, you can feel them hovering over the edges, but you feel like you can cope again.

Wiping at your face once more, you sniff and almost burst into tears again when you realise how utterly pathetic you feel. How stupid you are to fall apart like that over a job rejection of all things. And those demons inch forward, whispering into the fragile parts of you.

“Y/N, are you with me? Are you okay?” Leaning your head back against the railing, you nod quietly before remembering he’s not actually there. The first time you try to speak, your voice is croaky and what sounds like a bubble pops in your throat.

The second time works though. “I’m here. I’m...Hobi...I just...I can’t.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words cause you to start crying once more. But this time, there’s none of the panic and fear behind them. These tears are blazingly hot, your skin prickling from the salt of them while your head pounds from the previous crying and emotional ride you’d just gone through.

This time, your tears were because you simply wanted him there. You wanted to just bury yourself in his arms and try to forget what had happened.

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but do you think you can go back to work? Or do you need to come home?” The very idea of going back into the office, sitting at your desk and doing all the mindless jobs that you loathe and despise with every fibre of your being fills you with a surge of feelings that makes you gasp in pain, head shaking rapidly.

You can’t, not today. You can’t go back to that, you can’t go back to the thoughts that this is going to be your life. That this is all you’ll ever be. All you’ll ever be worth. That you’ll never be good enough for anything.

“No.” It’s whimpered out, so soft and quiet but carrying a level of pain that you can’t even begin to properly explain to him. He understands though, a quiet sigh of his own as he obviously considers what to do.

“Okay...go in and ask them if you can take the rest of the day off. Tell them you’re ill. That you’ve been throwing up or something, whatever it takes. Are you okay to drive? Or do you want me to come get you?” Glancing over at your car, the Hyundai your dad had helped you to buy that was a dream compared to your previous car, you chew on your lip as you wipe at your face.

“I can drive. I can drive, it’s not far.”

“Good. Go home and rest. I’ll be home when I can. Do you want to talk about whatever just happened when I do?” Looking down at the ground, you consider it before sniffling quietly.

“Yeah. I think I should.” Your voice cracks on the last word, yet more tears filling your eyes as your lip trembles dangerously. The thought of telling him is terrifying, but you feel like you’ve gone too far down this dark road now. And you don’t want to walk down it alone anymore, not when what you’re finding is so terrifying and scary.

“Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

It was surprisingly easy to get your boss to let you go home early, easier than you thought it would have been. But maybe you looked a little worse than someone who had been throwing up, given the puffiness of your eyes and the overall haggard appearance you’d managed to take on. You didn’t look well, which worked in your favour in terms of being able to go home.

But you didn’t look well because you weren’t well. And you knew this.

As soon as you got home, you’d practically torn off your clothes before slipping on a well worn pair of soft grey leggings and a fuzzy sweatshirt, the material so soft on your body. It’s approaching the end of November and you revel in the warmth it offers you, curling on the couch into a tight ball with your head buried into the velvety Pusheen pillow that Hoseok had bought you a few weeks ago.

The soft padding of tiny paws on the wood floor alerts you to an incoming presence and you smile tiredly when Kasumi jumps up onto the couch with you, chirping at you quietly before butting her head against yours. Gently, you stroke at her fur and sigh as she settles, her head buried firmly into your neck and her small body vibrating as she purrs away happily.

“Are you happy my little purrbaby? Yeah?” You whisper to her, running your thumb over her silken ears before pressing your nose against her sleek fur. “My favourite little girl, aren’t you? A purry baby.”

The next few minutes consist of you just muttering nonsense to her as usual, your hand stroking automatically as you revel in the solid warmth of her against you. She remains where she is, paws flexing open and closed as the she pads at your chest and you can’t help the tiny smile that escapes as she does so.

“I love you, yes I do.” Maybe it’s a sign of how bad of a person you are that the only person you feel even remotely comfortable saying that to is your own cat. A cat who can’t answer back. Though maybe that��s the point. She relies on you for survival, therefore her love is a given.

Other’s though?

Her ears twitch suddenly and her eyes widen, that familiar look of alarm taking over her feline features and causing her to jerk upright. Frowning, you coo to her before realising you can hear the door opening.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s not even 2pm and your brow creases in confusion. You go to question whoever it is, only he appears from the hallway into the room and your throat tightens immediately.

Hoseok isn’t wearing a fancy suit this time, instead just a pair of black jeans with a black button-up, his socks a contrast in white. His work had since changed their dress code policy to smart-casual, hence his jeans. But he wasn’t supposed to finish until 5pm.

“Why are you here?” Your words aren’t nearly as solid as you intended them to be, the sounds shaky and he lets out a tiny sigh.

“You really think I was gonna stay at work for the next few hours after my girlfriend, who hates using the phone, calls me and all I can hear is hyperventilating and crying? And then she’s so not okay that she actually goes home? No way. I’m gonna work the time back later but I felt that you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He makes it all sound so simple, like there wasn’t even a question in his mind about what he’d do.

It chips away at something inside you, a chink in the solid wall of protection you’d built over the years that held back all your deepest and darkest fears and concerns from others. And in an instant, that wall shatters in a tsunami of emotion.

Lips trembling violently while your vision blurs from the tears filling it, you simply open your arms to him and whimper out his name in a tone so broken and lost that it almost makes Hoseok cry just hearing it. Not that you know that, nor can you see the way his face crumples for a moment at seeing you break so quickly.

You don’t see because the tears block your vision of him, but you feel it when he sits on the couch next to you and wraps you in his arms. Without a word, you squeeze your arms around him so tightly, as if you were afraid that if you let go then he’d vanish.

And you let yourself break in the comfort of his embrace, in the safety of presence and the reassurance of his stability. A horrible sound of pure agony escapes your throat, dragged from the deepest depths and a part of you is surprised at it. At how much pain it encapsulates.

Once you start though, you can’t stop and you simply cry into Hoseok’s arms, letting yourself go in a way that you never have before. Exposing your vulnerabilities and all the jagged points of pain inside your psyche that you’d kept hidden for so long, afraid that no one would care or would see them as a sign of weakness if you let them out.

Hoseok doesn’t judge you though, he doesn’t complain or sigh in annoyance. Instead, he spends the next ten minutes simply hugging you so tightly to him, his hands stroking your back in long movements that soothe you and reassure you that he’s here, that he cares. Vaguely, you recognise him whispering things to you but you don’t put enough thought into what he’s saying.

The earlier breakdown you’d suffered had been frightening and painful; the fear of not understanding what was happening properly combining with the gaping hole of self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. This didn’t feel like a breakdown though. It felt cathartic almost, like each sob that escaped you, each tear that wet Hoseok’s shirt was another weight being lifted off your mind and shoulders.

By the time you finally calm down enough until the tears are silent and the only noise you make is the hiccuped breathing of someone who’s cried so hard their throat and eyes hurt, you feel almost relaxed. Maybe crying was a good thing sometimes, but you knew that it was because you’d come to terms with the fact that you had to talk about your issues and most importantly, you had to reach out to others for help.

Now the room is completely quiet, only broken by the occasional sniffle from you. You’d expected him to start asking questions immediately but he doesn’t, instead just holding you in a protective embrace while you calm down.

Oddly, it makes you feel a little better that he doesn’t freak out or pepper you with questions. His reassuring presence helps to calm your frayed nerves and you find yourself playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, bottom lip pouting out as you realise his shirt is plastered to his chest from your tears.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You whisper, voice hoarse and low. There’s no response for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh, warm lips pressing to your hairline affectionately.

“That’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” Hoseok pauses, shifting to hug you in a more comfortable position on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The way he leaves the question open for you lets you know that he’s giving you an out, a way to turn him down. You know he wouldn’t be particularly happy if you didn’t talk about what had caused you to have such a breakdown, but he would acknowledge your decision.

“I just...I got another rejection.” Fingers smooth at the wrinkles in his shirt, the text from the email running through your mind once more and you can practically feel your spirit sinking again. “I don’t know, it just...it got too much. I know it sounds really stupid and I can’t really explain it all or anything but...it was just too much. Everything has been too much lately and yet I just feel so empty and uncaring.”

Hoseok doesn’t interrupt you, letting you spill out your inner thoughts to him, even if they don’t make a lot of sense.

“I’ve been...I mean...lately I...I’m not...I’m not okay.” Your voice wavers dangerously, lip trembling and you tighten your hand on the fabric of his shirt. “I just feel...I can’t...I can’t, I just can’t. I don’t feel like I can do this anymore, it’s just so hard. So hard to get up and go to work when I hate my fucking job. It’s like my mind is dying every second in there and my soul is shrivelling up too. But I’m not good enough to get out and I’ll never get out and all I can think is...is this it? Is this going to be my life? Is this all I’ll ever do? Is this all I’ll ever be worth? Is this all I’ll do? And the thought of this being all I do for the rest of my life is...I mean...I just...I can’t Hoseok. I can’t, I can’t do it. I don’t even want to wake up if I have to do this forever.”

The words are rushed from you, blurring together as you feel the deep hysteria and panic rising within you once more. Hands clenching his shirt are shaking while your breath is coming a little faster again and your poor, swollen eyes are stinging from the heat of yet more tears. You’d have thought you had none left to cry.

“It’s like everything is weighing me down, all of it. My job, my lack of career, my finances and just me as a person. It’s all building in my head and I just...I can’t. But at the same time I feel nothing inside. I wake up and wonder why I’m bothering to get up because I have nothing to do, I can’t focus on shows or games or books. I’m lethargic and unhappy and the idea of going out just makes me want to cry. I drove home from the store the other day and the entire time I felt like there was a hive of bees in my stomach, all angry and my heart was racing. I didn’t even know what I was anxious about! That’s not normal and it happens all the time. I’ve tried, for you and my parents and friends but it always comes back. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You’re not entirely sure what you can’t do, but you say it so forcefully that Hoseok simply nods.

He doesn’t speak at first, contemplating what to say and trying to remember what his therapist had discussed with him all those years ago when he’d gone. It was hard, because obviously your case wasn’t like his. But he wanted to help, or at least try and guide you in the right direction. Because you were reaching out, and he wanted to be the one to hold you steady while you fought your way out of the darkness.

“How long have you been feeling like this? I’ve noticed you pulling away recently, I didn’t want to push you on it though.” Hoseok admits, his voice soothing as he runs a thumb along your cheek, wiping your tears away.

Almost childishly, you shrug. “I don’t know. It comes and goes. I always...I hate doing things that make me happy or excited because I always crash after. And the longer my happiness goes on, the harder and further I crash after. It’s like my mind can’t cope with just...being...normal.”

Hoseok shakes his head firmly then, pulling back slightly to get you to look at him. His eyes are worried and his expression is concerned, but you can tell he’s determined. You can also tell that you’ve just said something that he disagrees with.

“Don’t call yourself not normal. At the risk of sounding like some lame quote from the early 2010s, there’s no such thing as normal. You’re just...you’re not okay right now. I think we can both tell that. And there’s nothing wrong with not being okay. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re having mental health problems and I hope you won’t be angry with me for saying it but...this...today...baby I think you need to see a doctor or something. I can’t tell you what will help because I don’t know, and I don’t want to mess it up. But you have to want to get help.”

Looking down at your hands, you sniff quietly as you contemplate what he’s said. As per usual, he’s said it sweetly and in a way that isn’t offensive. The very idea of admitting that you had mental health issues made you quail inside, wanting to tell him that he was wrong and you were fine.

But he wasn’t wrong...and you weren’t fine.

“What if they don’t believe me? Or tell me it’s just in my head? Or that I’m just sad or something? And what if work finds out and they get angry at me? People will tell me I’m just faking it or something, looking for attention.” The stereotypes slip from your lips without you realising it but you’re worried.

Despite the push for being more open around mental health lately, you know that people still don’t view it positively. That admitting depression or anxiety can often come with an eye roll or an exasperated sigh. You knew how it went, you weren’t depressed you were just tired or weren’t willing to put in effort and so forth.

But you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real and strong.

“Sweetheart, if they think at your work then fuck them. You already hate that place and you’re looking for something new. Don’t let them get to you, you are more important than anyone there. And if they want to act like shit around something as serious as this, then they don’t deserve you. Your doctor should listen, and if they don’t then make them listen. They’re there for you, not the other way around. It’s in your head purely because it’s your mental health and it can be helped. I won’t lie, it’s probably not gonna get cured. But you’ll find ways to cope. And I’ll be here for you. So will your parents and your friends. We care for you and we want you to be okay.” He rubs at your arms then, his touch warm even through the soft material of your sweater.

“I’ve watched you draw into yourself and it’s worried me for a while now. But if you’re willing to reach out to me at your lowest, which I’m going to assume that breakdown was your lowest, then I think you want help. I can’t make it go away, but I can help support you while you get your feet back under you. Will you consider going to the doctor? Please?”

Pushing your head into his neck harder, you sniff hard and pushing the sleeves of your sweater past your hands. Your heart races at the thought of discussing your personal issues with someone you don’t know, but you know Hoseok is right. You need help, you need to reach out.

Swallowing hard, you realise that you need to do what he’s suggesting. You don’t want to get back to that point where you realised you didn’t care if you lived or died anymore. Because you wanted your life to get better. You just didn’t have the tools to pull yourself out of the swamp.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His body relaxes imperceptibly at your agreement and you feel bad, realising how worried he must have been for you. But that worry vanishes when he tilts your head up to his, a sweet smile on his face before he kisses you gently.

“Good. You won’t regret it, I swear. And thank you. For trusting me enough to call me when you were afraid and for telling me now. I want to try and help you anyway I can. I know what it’s like to feel very lost and afraid. I just got angry at the world though. So...please talk to me when you’re not feeling okay, even if you think I’m going to be annoyed or can’t be bothered. Because I’d rather you talk and vent to me than do something else.” And suddenly, you realise he’s got tears in his own eyes.

Reluctant tears you can tell, the way he gives a small smile that’s forced, his dimples showing but no real happiness behind it. Swallowing, your own smile wobbles too as you realise that he must have been so worried.

“I will. I swear. I swear.” His lips press to your forehead, resting there long after he’s finished his kiss and you simply embrace it, absorbing his deep feelings to you that you can tell he has even though he doesn’t say a word. Unsurprising really, because you feel all the positive and warm feelings you have towards him blossoming through the hollowness in your chest.

He’s not going to fix you and you both know that. But you’re surprised to realise that you don’t want him to either. That this is something you have to start yourself. For your own peace of mind but also so that you don’t become reliant on him while pressuring Hoseok with something as precarious as your mental health.

You’ve reached out for help finally, and now you just need to accept the help you’re given in turn.

675 notes · View notes

ikemen-bully · 5 years ago

Text

The Heroine’s Importance

I already posted this on my main blog but now that I have blog exclusively for otome game I rather keep it there.

Back then when Utapri and Hakuouki were the notorious reverse harems of their time, their heroines were as hated as the anime was loved. A weird phenomenon since they’re… the heroine of those shows.

Haruka Nanami was even the driving force of the show. In Utapri, which was an anime about music, she was the one with the idea that the boys should come together and become idols. She’s the reason why STARISH exists in the first place.

For Hakuouki, the case was a bit different. It was a historic anime where the warriors of the Shinsengumi were changed into bishonen (a bit in the similar fashion that Ikemen Sengoku is today) and even if it followed some real events, a plot about human experimentation and oni was also included.

In this story Chizuru Yukimura wasn’t the responsible of the Shinsengumi, but we could see the story through her eyes and assisted the evolution of the story through her.

Both did their job as the heroine. The story was enjoyable.

To me it was weird to try to dissociate the quality the anime with the quality of their heroine. If the heroine was this awful, how her presence didn’t ruin the anime for those who hated her?

Well obviously because of the boys, who were kind of the point of those anime. After all they were put forward, especially in Hakuouki, for a reason.

Still it was unfair to judge them so cruelly, so today in fandom, this behaviour is criticized.

Now we even get positivity for the heroine, such as putting them on an equal foot as the boys! Which is great!

But is it true?

I thought about doing this post because I thought of a short-lived trend in anime which revealed a certain behaviour in both the creators of those anime and their fandom.

“The heroine matter as much as the boys”

The anime which started this trend in my eyes was Amnesia.

In this story the heroine wakes up without her memories and her soul linked to a fairy, Orion, which collided with her and made her lose her memories this way.

It had an original concept, stunning visual, wonderful OST (an opening by Yanagi Nagi!), it looked mysterious and I was very curious about it.

To my dismay, the anime was boring to say the least. And it wasn’t because it was a reverse harem so it was to be expected. Utapri and Hakuouki had their flaws but they weren’t outright uninteresting.

The problem that was the most noticeable was the heroine which didn’t even have a name or a personality.

So as the anime can make you guess, the heroine has amnesia. She’s lost at the beginning of the anime, making this premise interesting. After all when a character has amnesia, one of the points of the story is to make them recover their memories.

Which means that the heroine will be a very important character, even more since everything is from her POV! Right? Right?

The heroine doesn’t evolve throughout the story. She’s merely there for the boys to be in love with her past self, the one before she had amnesia and even if she cares for them (as a heroine always has to do) she doesn’t really love any and just adapts to the one she’s supposed to love in the animated route.

I can’t say that the heroine of Amnesia is badly written since she’s barely written at all. She’s there to support the boys and forgive anything which happens to her. For example being harassed or get sequestrated in a cage :

Even in this situation where the love interest keep her in a cage, she care more about how much he does that to “protect her” :

.Except to protect herself from direct danger (and even like this she needs Orion to tell her to be careful because she can’t think for herself), she doesn’t care about her own well being as much as a normal human being would.

Brothers conflict have a simpler plot where the heroine’s father marries a woman who has 13 sons, making her their only step sister.

Different conflict with the brothers will arise and it’s already challenging to try to develop the characters when there’s 13 of them. With only 12 episodes, not all of them will fall in love with Ema? the heroine, but enough of them will, to make it as confusing as possible.

In this anime we meet the same kind of heroine as Amnesia, where the heroine doesn’t have much personality for herself. Or at least, the only noticeable personality traits of Ema is to love having a family which she will repeat at any given opportunity.

I really hated the guys in this anime for how egotistical they were as soon as they fall in love. Once again the heroine doesn’t crush on anyone, making them all forceful toward her.

Despite this, the heroine would somewhat express that she doesn’t want her relationship with them to turn romantic.

If anything the heroine’s main presence will be about how uncomfortable she is that her brothers try to seduce her.

But again, what matters the most is that they love her, not that she doesn’t return those feelings back and she even gets depressed over it :

A revelation is made about the heroine which will make her depressed about the whole situation, especially that her brothers fight over her.

But it won’t be used to develop her as a character or to make them aware of it. It’ll be used for a romantic moment with one of her love interest, who will kiss her even if he know how much it disturb her :

The heroine is kissed multiple times by attractive guys yes, but who she doesn’t love and explicitly rejects at the end of the anime.

And even if she gets kissed, the heroine is just worried about the situation of the family, not how herself is treated by them. She never says, “what about me? Why are you kissing me when all I want is for you to stop?” or anything similar. She cares about them more than she cares about herself.

And even though she’s supposedly uncomfortable by their behaviour, she doesn’t seem like that most of the time, just enthusiastic about having a family as usual.

At the end of the anime, a lot of people were upset that the heroine didn’t choose anyone. Why would she have to when we see how the guys act?

The behaviour of the boys

A thing that we can notice in all of this is that sometimes, the guys can be really awful to the heroine but as she doesn’t care about herself, she won’t hold any mistreatment toward her person against any of them. For example at the end of brothers conflict even when she reject one of the guys, “no” doesnt mean “no”.

But why are they authorized to be egoistic and possessive without any consequences? In brothers conflict, one of the guys even tries to rape her in her sleep and blame her for that :

But again despite this, I’ve never seen hate against this character, while, like it always happen, a lot of hatred is directed to Ema.

The guys are never hated for their actions because everything they do is depicted as being romantic (even if it definitely aren’t like the scene above) and it’s motivated by their love or their pain anyway.

“Love make them go crazy” because, after all, they can’t help it, they love the heroine so much that some accidents are bound to happen, like trying to undress her in her sleep or keeping her in a cage for her own good :

It’s just an accident! They can’t help it!

But sometime it can perfectly be a conscious choice but again, not shown as being cruel.

The last anime which has this tendency to not develop their main character at all was Diabolik Lovers, where Yui Komori gets stuck with 6 sadistic vampire who abuse her daily.

We enter in the kink theory here, and being masochist and finding the idea of bitten hot isn’t a problem. The problem is that in the story, Yui is blocked in this place and she obviously doesn’t enjoy to be the playthings of those men :

Each time she is bitten she expresses that she wants it to stop. But they don’t care. Because in Diabolik Lovers, Yui isn’t their love interest but their prey.

Again we have the same problem as the other heroines where she has no real personality beside caring about the boys above herself. In this case it’s even worse because the guys are predators who will hurt Yui without any second thoughts, but she acts like they are acquaintances . Despite all the abuse she goes through at their hands she goes to them to casually start a discussion which will always end up with her being abused :

The last time she interacted with him let’s see what happened :

Once again there’s a priorities on her interacting with the boys rather than making her behavior have any sense.

What is weird with this anime, in particular, is how much the heroine is blamed for not fighting back…while she can’t. They overpower her anyway.

But the guys aren’t hated for acting this way in the first place. Isn’t it odd? Yui is victim blamed and even if she suffers, we’re never shown the real impact that such daily abuse would have on her. She even worries about them at the littlest injury they can have :

While they’re the one hurting her :

Or if they ever care about her wound it’s because someone else did it to her and they feel entitled to her body, so they want to fight the other person :

Despite the statement that they’re equal, in anime such as these it’s not the case because the guys are given excuses for their bad behavior, while the heroine has to deal with it and put them above herself.

Still, they’re supposed to be equal so despite everything the heroine can end up to be liked… but in this context it is weird.

In the case of Yui who cares about her abuser no matter what, she gets praised for caring about the guys :

She cares about them without real explanation because all the interaction with her in the anime lead to abuse at some point. It can be the Stockholm Syndrome but it’s not depicted as anything else other than your usual heroine caring about the people around her, even if they abuse her.

As such, people tend to praise her for what she’s designed to do : putting them above her.

She even gets shipped with those who torment her and the self destructive attitude she has to help them no matter how much they hurt her is glorified.

If she is loved, if she matters, why should she be paired with those who hurt her the most?

They don’t lash out to her because they’re upset, it’s a behaviour that they consciously do like above with the cage. You can’t possibly “accidentally” put someone in a cage because you’re “protective”.

But at the end even if the heroine “matters as much as the boys” there’s a priority on them being healed by her rather than her own well being. Even if Yui gets traumatized, it doesn’t matter as much as the trauma of the guys and her neglecting herself for one of her abusers who won’t even care about her happiness, since all they want is to have her.

In the same way, it doesn’t matter that the heroine of Amnesia has been drugged and kept in a cage : Toma, the love interest, does it for her own good since she’s getting harassed and we have to be sad about how much he becomes insane for her sake. We shouldn’t worry how horrific the situation is for the heroine but try to understand him.

For Ema, we have to care about how much the guys have fallen for her and how much it puts a toll on them that she doesn’t reply to those feelings. It doesn’t matter that she shown no desire to be with any of them since the beginning, even when she finally rejects them, they can kiss her because they matter the most.

And in fandom space, her importance is still limited to her catering to the boys, and even if it’s supposed to be mutual love, they never care about her feelings to the point of respecting her.

It doesn’t matter what they do to her, she has to care for them despite anything. Those heroines are written as such, and the fandom accepts them this way too.

She doesn’t matter as much as they do, because if she was, her feelings would matter and she wouldn’t be written as being “caring” at the expense of herself.

You can say that since she’s the heroine, it’s normal that she cares about the boys, since the point of reverse harem is to have attractive boys first. And I would agree with that if it wasn’t so exaggerated.

Now not all reverse harems are written this way. There’s actually reverse harems where the heroine matters as much as the guys.

For example in Dance with Devils, Ritsuka, the heroine, constantly searches to know the truth which is hidden from her. It can seem foolish since it mostly puts her in danger though.

But to this, she also get rightly upset when one of the guys try to seduce her and something literally inexistent in reverse harem, she can even slap him for his misconduct! :

She can even get depressed about how manipulated she ends up to be. For this reason, she end up lashing out at one of the guys :

Her emotions matter and you have to remember that Dance with Devils was out around the same time than the second season of Diabolik Lovers :

The heroine of the anime above never had the right to be sad about their situation, their feelings weren’t pushed forward. They have no right to be sad or upset, just kind and caring and nothing else.

At the end of the anime, Ritsuka even received hate for the choice because it was about herself, not about her love interest.

Amnesia, Brothers Conflict and Diabolik Lovers heroine’s exist only to care for the boys while at least the ones of Dance with Devils exist to have the guys attracted to her but also to pursue her own goals.

As such, it’s a mistake to say that all the heroines matter as much as the boys because it can be factually wrong in the way they’ve been created.

I don’t like that the heroines are automatically hated for being the heroine, but I don’t think it’s fair to praise them just for this reasons either.

They all have been written with different level of writing and for differents purpose, one of them being only there for the guys and not the other way around. For this reason, they should be judged differently, and people should accept that others will not like all of them.

Reverse Harem heroines are all different because the anime they are in have been done with different sake in mind. Reverse harem are like any other type of anime : with good and bad anime, good and bad protagonist.

And it would be better to accept this diversity than trying to frame all the heroine as the same.

Hopefully now the heroine’s tend to not be written that way anymore and tend to matter as much as the guys in the anime too.

#diabolik lovers #brothers conflict #amnesia memories #yui komori #ema hinata #heroine amnesia #Ritsuka tachibana #dance with devils

597 notes · View notes

justkurotingz · 5 years ago

Text

“you’re under arrest” (aaron hotchner x reader)

i just rewatched the last seasons of the show, and i was just really, really inspired(aka i sobbed a lot) by “the storm” so i wanted to write this. in this oneshot HEAVILY based on the episode, you are about 6-7 weeks pregnant, and your belly has just started to show 🥺🥺🥺🥺

word count: 1.5K

“jack did you pack your comics?” you smiled at your young son, who was shoveling down breakfast as fast as he can. “you’re going to choke.” you sighed, refilling his water. “come on jack, it’s almost time to go.” aaron chuckled, unlocking the safe so he could get his gun.

he had just holstered it when the door flew open with a bang, startling all three of you. aaron had just whipped his gun around when he realized it was SWAT. you quickly covered jack’s eyes, your own eyes wide. ‘i’m on the job.” aaron said calmly, but the man at the front was persistent.

“drop your weapon.” he demanded. “i’m aaron hotchner with the fbi.” aaron spoke up, still training his gun at captain grant howard. “we know who you are, lower your gun.” howard demanded. instead of lowering his gun, aaron frowned. “who sent you?” he asked.

“aaron.” you warned him quietly, and he faltered, glancing at you in defeat. “this is mistake.” he pressed, lowering his gun. “daddy what’s going on?” jack asked, tearing his eyes away from your hand. aaron barely had time to reassure jack before the men demanded he kneel. “on your knees, hands behind your back.”

“is this really necessary?” hotch asked calmly, but the men were not playing. “now.” he commanded and hotch sighed, kneeling slowly. “daddy!” jack cried and you started to tear up, afraid what was going to happen. “it’s ok jack, it’s a big mistake and everything’s going to be alright.” aaron looked at his son before his eyes trailed to you. “i love you.” he said softly and you nodded. the men handcuffed aaron and led him out the door. “dad!” jack cried but they slammed the door shut. you peered out the window where hotch was escorted into a car and they drove off.

“mommy. mommy what’s happening?” jack’s eyes grew wide after seeing the tears stream down my face. “it’s ok baby, we’re not going to school today. let’s go hang out with uncle spencer and everyone else, ok?” jack nodded, picking up his backpack and you carried him to the car, strapping him in.

“spence, listen carefully.” you called your best friend, voice thick with worry and tears. “jack’s here so i’m not going to share everything, but aaron was just arrested by MPD.” “what?” spence apparently got up in shock and you nodded, although he couldn’t see. “just tell the others, i’ll be right there. tell garcia to check 911 phone calls, he must have been framed.”

spence hung up, rushing to the rest of the team. “oh my god.” jj said, and penelope looked shocked. “on it, i’m checking the calls now.” her fingers shook as they flew across the keyboard. moments later, you arrived with jack in tow. “i didn’t want him away from me. i figured this would be the safest place. hey baby, want to go play with auntie jj?” jack shook his head. “i want to go to daddy’s office.” jj nodded, talking to jack quietly, trying to cheer him up on the way.

“hey calm down. y/n, calm down.” the pregnancy was affecting your emotions and you burst into tears, sitting down heavily. “i don’t know why i’m such a mess. but seeing aaron there, kneeling in front of them... jack saw most of it. he saw his superhero being arrested.” you were sobbing and spence gently sat next to you, comforting you. “hey, you’re ok. it was a mistake and we’re going to figure out where he is. hotch isn’t going down with a fight, we’re all here.” you nodded, wiping your tears and dave sat down next to you.

“he’s downtown. we’re going to get him home y/n. don’t worry.” he kissed your forehead and got up. “i’m going to head downtown to see who’s holding him.” spence nodded from next to you. “call us.” “of course.” dave exited, rushing to the elevator. “i found the call.” garcia played the recording of the 911 call.

“today will change everything.” hotch warned. “oh my god.” you clapped a hand to your mouth and spence frowned. “that’s spliced together. hotch definitely said parts of that in conferences. do you see how the inflection is different?” tara nodded, eye solemn. “so hotch was framed for a... bomb threat?” “it’s definitely spliced and spoofed. something else is going on.” spence mused. just then, rossi called. “the doj has him. i tried to talk to him but they wouldn’t let me.”

at aaron’s interrogation room, they played the same 911 call. “voice recognition says it’s yours.” “oh come on, i’ve said parts of that sentence in my press conferences. do you seriously believe i’d blow up my team?” “there’s also this.” a video of mr. scratch warning the world against aaron played on the tablet in front of him.

“would you really believe anything a convicted serial killer says?” aaron questioned, face barely masking his suppressed frustration. “we didn’t at first, but there’s more. we have your credit card statements that show you’ve recently purchased materials needed in building a bomb. you also failed to mention in your report that you had been exposed to a dissociative drug that led to psychotic breaks. you left that out.” aaron sighed, shaking his head.

“furthermore, you’ve made bad judgement calls regarding agnet rossi and former agent greenaway. after your ex-wife was murdered, your judgement has been clouded.” “why would i be stupid enough to call in my supposed threat? these are my agents, my team. my wife who is 6 weeks pregnant with our child works under my team. my wife. i would never hurt her.” aaron leaned forward, eyes dark with anger and the man sighed.

“i want to believe you, i really do. but the evidence we have against you is undeniable. you’ve got to accept that.” back at the BAU, spence was pondering a thought. “antonia slade warned hotch that a storm was coming. we need to talk to her right now.” jj nodded, and rushed down to talk to her. after it was revealed that it wasn’t her, but her son, spence discovers that while asher douglas did splice the 911 call, he’s autistic, and not responsible for the “storm.”

“come on.” you whispered, getting up to pace, making jack glance at you. “mommy are you ok?” “just worried about daddy sweetie.” you answered, murmuring under your breath. the team had just figured out it was rawdon before they got the call from SWAT about a prison break.

“hey, where do you think you’re going?” you paused, looking at dave. “to help?” “y/n, this is a sensitive case. and you’re pregnant.” “oh come on.” spence looked at you and chimed in. “hey, we’ll be fine. just stay and take care of yourself. and jack.” you sighed, sitting back down and waved to them as they went down the elevator. “come on jack, let’s go wait in daddy’s office.”

hours later, you got the frantic call from spence, telling you what had went down. there was a major prison break and a shootout. rawdon had hid the bomb in the ivory tower, but before the anarchists could escape with the bomb, the helicopter was shot and the bomb detonated in air, bringing down the anarchists and the bomb.

“wow.” you said, trying to process it quickly. “hotch is on his way, he left before us. talk later, bye.” he ended the call and you sighed, watching jack draw. it hadn’t even been five minutes since spence called when hotch burst into his office.

“thank god.” he whispered, dropping everything and rushing to you. “y/n i am so so sorry. i am so sorry baby. reid told me the state you were this morning.” he kissed your forehead, wrapping you in a hug, one arm tangled in your hair. you hugged him back, tears streaming down your face. “oh baby, i know, i know you were so worried.” aaron kissed them away, gently placing a hand on your slightly bigger stomach. “we’re ok. we’re ok.” you reassured him and aaron pressed another kiss to your forehead. “i’m so sorry for scaring you.”

“hey jack.” jack didn’t respond, he just kept on coloring. “hey.” aaron said louder, but jack just opened his backpack and put the drawing in. “hi. are you ok?” he said absently and aaron sighed, squatting to his son’s level. “yeah, i’m alright. how are you?” “fine.” “jack, come on buddy. talk to me.” jack looked up at his father with sad eyes. “daddy you made mommy cry. you told me that men who hurt women are cowards.” “oh buddy.” aaron lifted jack in his arms. “daddy made a lot of mistakes today. but that’s ok, because i love mommy and you. i apologized to mommy. and now i’ll apologize to you. i’m sorry you had to see what happened in the morning. is daddy still your superhero?”

“yeah.” jack smiled, throwing his arms around his dad’s neck, making you smile. “let’s go home.” for once, you couldn’t be more glad to get out of the office.

#criminal minds #criminal minds scenario #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #scenario #fluff #imagine #angst #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #fbi #fbi imagine #pregnant #6 weeks pregnant #oneshot #one-shot #writer

369 notes · View notes

minghaocouture · 4 years ago

Text

The Flower Path Grows Thorns: Chapter 2

Pairing: Vampire!Xu Minghao x Human!Reader

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol AU

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood, mild suggestive themes, vampires feeding, flashbacks, descriptions of dissociative episodes. mentions of violence.

WC: 4.1K

AU Info: Lore Info/ Vampire Coven Info

Tag list: @smthingabtlove

A/N: I’m pretty sure i tagged all the warning properly but if i missed anything please don’t hesitate to let me know! Totally didn’t edit this so pls don’t hate me oki?

Chapter List: One//Two//Three

Loud shouts of your name filled the air, you felt the ice cold wind assaulting your frame as a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your middle. The arms pulled you harshly, not caring if your feet kept up as they dragged you along.

You felt your body fighting back, but it didn’t feel like you were in control. It was like someone else was behind the wheel and you were just along for the ride as your body fought back against your assailant.

Your fighting halted as a sharp piercing pain erupted from your neck. Everything became a blur of red and white, of intense heat and a chilling cold. It was all too much as you felt your heart tighten inside your chest. Legs feeling like jelly and the only thing that seemed to be keeping you up was the arms around your waist as you slipped into unconsciousness.

***

Sweat dripped down your face as you sprung up in bed, chest heavy with breath as you tried to calm yourself. The light comforter felt constricting against your sweat soaked skin so you threw it off of you, and swung your legs off of the side of the bed to get some grounding for yourself. The hardwood beneath your feet was just cool enough to help with the process. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since your rough awakening, you were simply focused on controlling your breathing.

It had been about a month or so since your last intense night terror, the nightmare that caused you to relive that night back in January. The only thing you were grateful about right now was that you were no longer living with your brother, you always felt guilty when you would wake his family because of your dreams.

Glancing over at the clock on your nightstand you let out a small whine, the bright red lights of the clock told you it was just past 5am. Way too early to get ready for the day but too late for you to get back into a deep sleep before your alarm would go off.

Standing from your bed you made your way out of your room and entered the bathroom across the hall. Thinking that maybe a hot shower would be a good way to start the day. You turned the metal knobs and the water quickly began flowing, the sound filling up the previously empty space in the room.

As you waited for the water to heat up, your mind wandered. The day was going to be a long one, not only did you have your first shift back today but also the blood night as well. You stared at the water as it left the faucet but your eyes couldn’t seem to focus. The longer your stare lingered the less you felt...real. You began to feel as you had in your dream, your limbs going numb and it felt like your body wasn’t your own once more. You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling in the moment simply because you felt nothing. It was almost like you didn’t exist metally.

You were grateful to hear your text tone go off, as it snapped you out of whatever episode you had been having. Lifting the phone from the sink counter you glanced at the name, Soonhee. You were curious why she was messaging you, especially since it was technically late for her. Opening the message it read.

“Don’t forget your snack tonight. Minghao is really strict about that...and well everything honestly lol”

It was really sweet of her, it didn’t surprise you all that much that she had messaged you. Despite her rough outer appearance and attitude, Soonhee was quite kind and looked out for people who couldn’t look out for themselves. That’s probably why she was so willing to lend you a hand. Well, that as well as her own guilt.

With a sigh, you set your phone back down on the laminate countertop so that you could finally jump into the shower. It wasn’t long before the water ran cold, leading you to believe you had lost more time than you had originally thought. You’d have to keep any eye out on that in the future.

***

“Ahhh that shift sucked!” You whined, collapsing into the rolly chair in the back office. The shift had only lasted 4 hours, since your shop closed for a few hours mid day, but those four hours had felt like a full work day. You heard the familiar wheezing of Hoseok’s laugh as he stepped past the threshold to join you in the room.

“It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice,” Reaching out he ruffled your hair, as if he were the older of the two, before plopping down in the much less comfortable metal chair that was kept in the room. “You were gone for a pretty long time. I know January was pretty rough for you.”

He had spoken far too knowingly for your liking, as if he was aware of what had transpired. Lifting your legs and crossing them while you sat on the chair, you decided to grab the corner of the desk and gently pushed off causing yourself to spin ever so slowly.

“It wasn’t anything like that,” you lied. You couldn’t exactly tell him what had happened, you didn’t want him to live with the knowledge of the supernatural beings that now plagued your nights. “Ilya just needed someone to watch his daughter for a while and I agreed to do it.”

Now that wasn’t exactly your best lie, but you had never claimed to be good at things like that. You preferred to be upfront about things, honesty was a trait you previously could have claimed as a core value of your person. Not anymore, not with all the things you had learned. It was just something to keep from regular humans.

A frown had pushed its way onto Hoseok’s face as he watched you spin. He looked like he wanted to say something, but something was holding him back and you weren’t sure what. So before he could continue his line of questioning, you spoke up again.

“Do you close tonight?” It was a simple enough question, but one that could get his attention away from you. Slowly, your spinning had finally come to a stop which led you to have to manually rotate the chair so that you were still facing him.

He nodded, his lower lip jutted out in a small pout. He crossed his arms over his chest, which incidentally made his biceps somehow look bigger than they already were (you swore half of your customers came here just to ogle at him.) He simply stared at you for a moment, worry filling his deep brown eyes. Reaching out, he placed a firm hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You know you can talk to me right?” It was kind of him, and you really appreciated him. Just knowing that he was such a good friend and how he would be willing to drop just about anything just to help you out always brought a twinge of joy to your heart. You gently took the hand that was on your shoulder, holding it in your own, and smiled up at him.

“I know, I really appreciate you Hoseok. but I’m fine I promise." You did your best to reassure your worry wart of a friend

With a small smile you stood from the chair and made your exit from the room. There were still quite a few things to do before tonight.

The night was dark and humid as you made your way to the bar once again. A small purse hoisted over your shoulder held the granola bar from the pack that you had purchased. It wasn't much but hopefully it would be enough to help you out after, well after everything.

Seeing the familiar neon sign you paused, staring at it for a moment. Did you really want to go through with this? You could always back out, even with the contract. You could just leave town and never come back, or you could take the less drastic approach of talking to them if it boiled down to it.

Swallowing your fear and taking a deep breath, you proceeded towards the entrance of the bar. You were once again greeted by the woman from yesterday, though this time her shoulder length black hair was held up in a high ponytail that looked really good on her and she was sporting this rather cute purple outfit. If time permitted you might ask where she got it from. Her eyes lit up in recognition as she watched you approach.

“Welcome back.” Was all she said, apparently not needing to see your ID this time since she had done so the night before. Despite this, you still stopped in front of her and pulled your wallet out from your purse so that you could retrieve the small card.

“You’re Gahyeon right? I’m supposed to show this to you.” She took the card from you and gave it a good once over, making sure that it was legitimate. You felt the anxiety fill your gut once more, urging you to run away and not look back. You did your best to ignore it, shifting your weight a few times in an attempt to get rid of that nervous energy.

After a moment, she passed the card back to you and fixed you with a stern look. “When you go inside, there will be a door in the far back left of the room that says ‘Employees only’. You’re going to go through that door and then knock on the second door to your right. Got it?”

You nodded, making sure to repeat the directions back to her. Once she was satisfied her stern look faded and she smiled softly.

“Thank you.”

Thank you? Was she thanking you for participating? You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so instead of saying anything you pushed a shaky smile onto your face and smiled as well. Then stepped past the threshold into the bar once again. It was the same as it was yesterday, bright lights flashing, loud music playing and of course the lingering smell of sweat and liquor in the air.

Following Gahyeon’s directions, you made your way to the back of the bar when you had spoken to Minghao yesterday. Today though there were different faces behind the counter, of course you recognized Jun who flitted around behind the counter chatting it up with customers and refilling drinks, then there was another woman that you recognized but couldn’t place a name to, her hair was around the same shade as Jun’s if not a little darker blonde. As you went to pass, you just barely heard your name being called. Eyes returning to the bar, you were greeted by Jun’s bright smile as he jumped the counter so he could envelop you into a hug.

“Y/N! I am so glad to see you here! When Minghao told me you were coming tonight, well I didn’t believe him at all!” He exclaimed, his arms pulling you close to him. You felt some of the tension from before drain from your body as you returned the hug.

Jun was such a calming presence to you, which was definitely odd considering how excitable he could be. You had been hoping that he would be the person you would be seeing tonight, but from the looks of it he wouldn’t be. Which left you a bit concerned about which member of the coven would be your client tonight. Was client the right word? You weren’t exactly sure.

“Well...here I am! Definitely against my better judgement.” You murmured the last bit into his shoulder, but it seemed like he still heard you. He pushed you away gently, holding your shoulders in a firm grasp.

“You’ll be fine. I promise, nothing bad will happen tonight okay? And if it does, I give you full permission to punch me once.” This had you laughing, a natural one that didn’t feel forced which you wouldn’t have expected from yourself with how anxious you were. Jun was kind to offer such a thing, but you knew that your tiny punches would mean nothing to him.

“Thanks Jun...I better get back there before I back out and decide to run home.” It was a joke, well mostly a joke. That was still a good option in your mind.

With a nod and a small smile he squeezed your shoulders and let you go, giving you one final bit of motivation to cross through the door to face your fears. He watched you go before climbing back over the counter and returning to his customers.

The hallway you entered was rather bland compared to the room you had just left, the walls were a concrete gray and had a few clipboards and a cork board hanging on the wall in between a set of wooden doors to the right. On your left was a staircase that led up to their living quarters, you remember that area well. The tiny room you had been hidden away in, the dust covered boxes and small twin sized bed. Just thinking about it brought back the sense of claustrophobia, causing you to quickly look away from the staircase and return your attention to the hallway itself.

Taking uncertain steps, you trekked forward to the second door like Gahyeon had told you. Despite how short the hall was, it felt like you were walking forever. The sound of your footsteps felt loud in your ears, and had even drowned out the bass thumping from the room behind you. Stopping as you stepped in front of the door, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. You wondered if vampires could hear that, no one had mentioned it to you before but you couldn’t help but wonder.

You raised your hand to knock on the hardwood, only to be stopped as the door swung open which left you face to face with another familiar woman. If you recall, her name was Siyeon, but Siyeon paid you no mind and simply side stepped past you as she wiped her lips of a dark red liquid. Chills ran up your spine as she passed, you paused and watched as she turned and made her way up the stairs.

“You don’t have to stand in front of the door like that.” The familiar voice hit your ears and caused a wave of relief to spread over you.

Inside the room, you saw Soonhee sitting in a plush red chair looking exhausted. Her braids were pulled into a high ponytail on the top of her head, her leather jacket draped over the back of her chair as she hunched forward looking over a clipboard. To the left was a small couch that housed two people that you were almost certain weren’t part of the coven, but you recognized one of them as a customer from work. Hopefully he didn’t recognize you, and if he did then you hoped he wouldn’t say anything.

“You’re just in time,” Soonhee explained, taking a pen and marking something on her clipboard. “You’re gonna go through that door and down the stairs, your room is the first door on the left.” She took the pen and pointed at the door on the opposite side of the room from where you had entered. You wished you were about to talk with her a bit more, maybe calm your nerves a bit, but she was busy today and obviously didn’t really have time to talk considering as soon as she gave you your room she diverted her attention to the couch.

“You’ve been snacking on those crackers for like an hour Jae, go home.”

Ignoring the whining voice of the male she was speaking to, you followed her instructions and entered the new room. It was less of a room and more of just a doorway that led directly to a flight of stairs. You stared at the stairs for a moment, feeling that sense of dread kicking in once more before you slowly descended.

At the bottom of the stairs you were treated to another concrete grey hallway, only this time there were 8 doors. It reminded you of how the top floor was laid out. Taking a deep breath stopped in front of the first door on your left, as you were told. You simply stared at the door for a moment. The feeling from this morning returned to you and you felt the life drain from your limbs, leaving nothing but a cold feeling of numbness. Your eyes unfocused as it stared at the wood of the door, your shoulders slumping as you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away or move to enter the room. You felt your heart throbbing in your chest and the feeling of phantom arms roughly grabbing your arm as they had done in your dream. Terror gripped your whole being.

Your eyes were forced to refocus as the door in front of you swung open and you found yourself face to chest with someone, glancing up and you realized that this someone was none other than Minghao. He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his dark black hair hung in front of his face blocking one of his eyes from view. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he turned his back to you and entered the small room again. Quickly you followed after him.

Today he seemed to be much more casual than he had been the day before. His pale blue jacket and black turtleneck had been swapped out for a simple white t-shirt, he looked a lot less intimidating than he had previously but not any less beautiful. Your eyes followed him as he sat down on a black leather sofa that seemed to be one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, a part of you wondered if the material of the couch was chosen since blood would be easier to clean off of it. He gestured for you to join him, so you did.

“So, here is how this is going to go,” He began, “I know you’re not exactly comfortable with this.”

That was the understatement of the year.

“But you signed up for this, so you knew what you were getting into. I can’t just let you leave without feeding, so what we’re going to do is we’re going to take it slow okay?” His eyes locked on your own, making sure that you were listening to his explanation. So you nodded, prompting him to continue. “If you get scared, or you want me to back off just pinch my arm okay? I’ll stop until you’ve calmed down and give me the okay again. Is that good for you?”

You were a bit surprised at his words, you hadn’t been expecting any special accommodations but he had clearly thought about your mental state when going into this. It was extremely thoughtful. You were still extremely anxious about the whole ordeal of course, but you definitely didn’t feel like you were in danger with Minghao. So once again you responded with a nod, which prompted a sigh from the male.

“No, you need to say it out loud.”

“Yes. I’m comfortable with that.” The words left your lips almost instantly, which he seemed pleased with or at least you were assuming that’s what the small smile was expressing.

Despite the comfort you felt in the moment, your heart practically stopped when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him. You felt your throat dry out as he leaned forward, feeling his hot breath against your neck. You free hand clutched the leather of the couch as if it were your life support and this had him pause for a moment. Before you could really think about that, you felt his mouth on your neck. The sharp fangs gently poked at the skin but had yet to pierce through, you could tell that he was taking his time so that he wouldn’t scare you. Another moment passed, you stayed completely still and the only sound in the room seemed to be that of your own heartbeat. Going off of your response, you felt the fangs pierce through the skin of your neck and it took all you had to not pinch him and beg him to stop. You would get nowhere if you let your fear control you, he wasn’t attacking you and you needed to make sure your psyche knew that. So you tried to focus on other things, the tickle of his black locks as they brushed against your jaw and the feel of his hand on your wrist. You hadn’t noticed before, but he was slowly rubbing small circles with his thumb on the underside of your wrist. An attempt to calm you and keep you grounded. You were grateful for that, taking the moment to focus on that instead of the lingering pain in your neck.

You weren’t sure how long you had sat there, eyes focused on the ceiling before the moment was broken. The feeling of your own blood, escaping his lips and trailing down your neck had you twisting your arm around in his grasp and quickly pinching his wrist. Instantly he pulled himself away from you, panting heavily as he did so. You felt your limbs shaking against your will as he grabbed a towel you hadn’t noticed before and gently dabbed it against your neck to remove the blood. All you could focus on was the way his lips were stained red. It wasn’t like the movies, where the Vampire had blood dribbling down their chins and getting everywhere. The look was subtle, small droplets that clung to plush lips, just like you had seen on Siyeon before.

His eyes searched yours as he dabbed the towel against your neck, looking for a sign that anything was majorly wrong...if he had done something wrong. As he could hear was the sound of your erratic heartbeat, as he tried to focus on anything but the hunger that he was feeling. There wasn’t anything special about your blood, you weren’t the best blood he had ever drunk but you weren’t the worst. Your fear was definitely diluting the taste, making him feel guilty for enjoying it like he had. Which was why he had stopped at your signal, this wasn’t just about him. He knew why you were here, he could practically read the need to push past your fears just by looking at your face. You were an open book to him.

As he pulled the towel away, you muttered a small strangled apology. You felt small tears well up in your eyes, once even slipping out as you tried your best to calm yourself down. Minghao simply brushed the tear away with his thumb and rolled his eyes.

“I knew what I was getting into when I asked for you. If it takes a while then it takes a while, don’t apologize for being scared.” He retorted. He didn’t seem to be upset with you, which you were glad about but his words caused you to quirk a brow.

“Asked for me?”

“Yeah. Figured you would feel more comfortable with someone you knew. Soonhee would have probably offered but she...she has some control issues when it comes to feeding and probably would have done more harm than good.” As he spoke he leaned against the back of the couch, arms spreading along the top of it as he waited for you to calm down. “We could have given you to Minhyuk or Jun, but Minhyuk has a regular that he likes and Jun is working the bar tonight so he gets whoever comes in last.”

You had to admit, you were grateful it was Minghao. Jun would have probably tried joking with you to keep you calm but that could have potentially made things worse. Minghao was blunt and straightforward, he told it to you like it was and didn’t sugar coat it. While you wouldn’t think that it would be comforting, it was. It let you know that he wasn’t hiding things from you that you might need to know.

As time passed, you felt your muscles relax a bit and your heart beat slow to a normal pace. You spoke up again.

“I think I’m okay now.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he continued to eye you. Looking for any sign that you weren’t ready, a small brow raised as if to ask if you were sure. To which you nodded.

He reached out once again, this time reaching for your shoulder before he leaned back in and continued to feed.

65 notes · View notes

xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago

Text

Decryption_Error: “Undefined^Behavior”

Summary: Refusing to give up, refusing to shatter the trust she had worked so hard to build, Y/N fights to get Elliot back; only, when she reaches out, she meets someone new.

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 6200

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106 @clumsybookworm18 @diasimar @ramisgirl512 @aboutthatmelancholystorm

Warnings: Angst and believe it or not, SMUT

I hung up the phone and pushed my chair back from my desk, standing to stretch and shake away the agitations of the day and of my life. Lying for Elliot all week had my mind bouncing between irritation and a desperate, black sadness threatening to swallow me whole if I let myself get too close to it.

As I walked to the panel of windows in my office, I thought back to my conversation with Darlene. When Elliot missed work on Friday, I had texted her that evening to see when she could meet me. Leaning against the cool class of the window, a comforting chill creeping across my arm and my forehead, I was reminded of how she and I watched the people from the coffee shop window as we talked about her brother.

Darlene was not one to get out of bed until double-digits popped up on her alarm clock, so we agreed to meet at a coffee shop about a block from Lafayette and Broome at noon on Saturday.

My eyes swept over the muted beige walls and the dark wooden tables of the small, cozy seating area, and I saw she had snagged a corner stool at the high-table built to look out onto the street. I smiled as I took in her legs as they stretched out across the stool beside her, unapologetically taking up twice the space a person needed. My smile split into a grin as I saw the two extra-large coffees clearly purchased without her even bothering to take off her heart-shaped sunglasses.

Darlene let her legs flop to the underside of her stool as I approached. She spun to face the window, reaching up to slide her sunglasses to the top of her head while I shrugged out of my coat and sat down.

“Thanks for meeting me. And for caffeinating me,” I said as I took a cautious sip, cringing slightly as the scalding coffee washed over my tongue. I longed to guzzle it considering I had barely slept since the incident with Elliot.

Darlene looked over to give me a flicker of a smile as she twisted her coffee cup between her fingers, her apprehension palpable.

“No big. What’s up?”

I pressed my lips together as I took a breath to buy a moment as Darlene watched me from the corner of her eye.

“Have you talked to Elliot, uhm, since Thursday night?”

I glanced at Darlene’s profile as her big eyes watched the people on the sidewalk scurry by. For once, she was holding back.

“Don’t,” I pressed. “We know each other too well to start holding shit back now.”

Darlene huffed and swirled on her stool. She leaned back into the wall as she looked at me in that same searching way as Elliot, like a child deciding whether or not to reveal their secret for fear of being punished.

“I haven’t talked to him, okay?”

“You know what happened.”

Darlene fidgeted as she plucked at the tights she was wearing under a pair of a stone-washed denim shorts. “He wasn’t answering my texts so I went to see him last night. He was a dick. So I left. We didn’t really chat.”

I took another sip of coffee, formulating what to say next. Any conversation with either of the Aldersons had the potential to turn bad pretty fast. Darlene was always the easiest of the two to be straight with, but if she felt like she needed to protect her brother, I knew I wasn’t going to get very far.

Mostly, I didn’t want her to feel like she was making a choice: me or him. Darlene and I were both on the same side, whether she fully believed it or not.

“He wasn’t himself on Thursday night,” I stated, opting to avoid another question.

“That’s just it, Y/N. He is himself, right? Isn’t that what’s so fucked up about this whole thing?” Darlene pushed off from the wall and swiveled on her stool again, returning her gaze to the sidewalk. “And he wasn’t, like, the crazy version of himself. He was just . . . a dick. He gets like that sometimes, too.”

“We can all be dicks.”

“Duh. But this was different,” Darlene said, her voice quieting. “I interrupted him.”

A prickle of fear crept down my spine and I tightened my grip on my cup.

“Interrupted what?”

“He was writing a kernel rootkit. When he noticed me looking, that’s when he told me to get the fuck out.”

“And I’m sure you smiled politely and did as he asked,” I said with a huff of a laugh. “I’m guessing there’s no way to swing that it was work-related?”

Darlene chuckled darkly, “Maybe your ship’s gone to shit since you moved up to the big office?”

“Elliot was supposed to be working on new scripts to track WiFi vulnerabilities.”

“Definitely not what he was doing,” she said as exasperation tinged the edges of her words.

I turned away from Darlene’s profile. People were passing quickly by on the sidewalk, tucked into their coats to stop the early-spring wind that always seemed to hold the threat of rain. I watched as cars sat bumper to bumper, waiting for the light at the crosswalk to change.

The longer our silence wore on, the longer I watched such seemingly normal bits of life pass by, the louder my mind repeated the names of the people who had been hacked at my company and at Dad’s.

Colin. Bill. Kurt.

The other anonymous hacks flashed through my mind, the ones I couldn’t assign a name to, and I wondered, really wondered if Elliot was responsible.

Don’t be crazy.

Elliot and I were together more than we were apart up until a few weeks ago. What could Elliot have even gained from those hacks? They had nothing to do with E Corp, which was the only hack I was really worried about him committing: a vengeance hack.

“This is such a mess,” I forced myself to say to distract my thoughts before they could spiral. “I need to see him.”

“Give him space. It can be awhile before he’s normal again.”

“He missed work, Darlene. I . . .”

“What?” she said, turning her light blue eyes to my face.

“I lied. Said he had a death in the family.”

“Fuck!” Darlene said too loudly, making me jump and drawing the eyes of other patrons.

“Jesus,” I hissed, “What’s wrong?”

“I fucking hate this!” she said, her voice low again. “We were hanging out more. Having fun. He was . . . happy. I was happy. Things felt normal for fucking once and here we fucking go again. I can’t keep doing this shit.”

My lips turned down in a frown of compassion. Sometimes I forgot how young Darlene really was.

“You aren’t his keeper, Darlene. He should be taking care of you. Actually, you should be taking care of each other.”

She made a little huff of derision.

“Yeah fucking right.”

“I’m serious. You need to prioritize your own well-being.”

“He’s all I have, Y/N. He’s all I’ve ever had,” Darlene said sadly, then with irritation, “But I’m sick of his fucking shit.”

“I wanted to talk to you today because I’m not giving up on him without a damn good fight. I promised you that.”

Darlene took a big gulp of her coffee and without turning to look at me, she linked her arm in mine as it sat on the tabletop and leaned into me, resting her head on my upper arm.

I sighed, “Let me take care of him this time,” and tilted my head so it was resting on top of hers, the slight warmth radiating out to my cheek.

We sat like that for a long time as I reminded myself that all Elliot needed was one more reason to close himself off forever. I started our relationship knowing he had an inability to trust people, an inability to even like people. It was clear he had never let someone in this far before and the appearance of this other told me I was right.

We watched the people outside, feeling like we were actually the outsiders, looking in on something we couldn’t understand. As I breathed in her scent, oddly similar to Elliot’s, I realized that Darlene hadn’t let anyone in this far either, not in a long, long time.

* * * * *

I pushed back from my office window and rubbed at the cool spot on my arm, nibbling at my lower lip as I thought about how I took Darlene’s advice and gave Elliot space.

Except that under the guise of giving him space, I was actually scratching a very selfish itch.

My parents had kept their apartment uptown as they transitioned to permanently living in Greenwich, deciding that it was more convenient to keep it while Dad still sat on the board. Their apartment was close to a library that was open late into the evenings because of the slew of after-school programs it ran for kids with nowhere else to go. So, instead of going home to my empty apartment, I took the 4 uptown and spent most of the evening diving through psychiatric volumes on disorders that fit Elliot’s symptoms. I was smart enough not to so much as google anything slightly related to Elliot’s possible condition; I didn’t trust that he wasn’t keeping tabs on me in the best, safest way he knew how.

I started with the list Jill had ticked off months ago, and after eliminating anxiety and most stress disorders, I was left straddling dissociative identity disorder and schizophrenia.

After spending so much time with Elliot, I couldn’t recall any instances when he seemed to hear or see things that weren’t there. I couldn’t even really recall him being flat or withdrawn, something schizophrenics tended to be as a result of everything that was going on in their minds. Elliot was almost always happy, or at least content and relaxed, when he was with me; if he was distant, it was because he was sad and it almost always had to do with him believing I was unhappy or upset with him.

I also hadn’t noticed any episodes of him losing time aside from the server room incident and Jared’s smashed nose, which both surely qualified as being traumatic enough to trigger a flashback.

According to my research, traumatic experiences didn’t trigger schizophrenia—that was DID. And what I witnessed on the Fourth and on Thursday was someone protecting Elliot. The more I pushed about the cause of his changes or outbursts, the angrier that protective personality got.

Both disorders scared me because I knew neither one could be addressed without psychiatric care. Schizophrenia, at least, could be managed with medication, but DID was a developmental disorder with no medication available to treat it, psychotherapy and behavioral modification being the most practiced options.

After nearly a week had passed with no word from Elliot, I texted Jill. I was armed with my research and ready to seek a medical opinion. Being a PA in an ER had exposed her to a lot of patients with mental health issues. If anyone could discreetly give me some more information, it would be her.

I finally walked away from the window and back to my desk, settling in to answer the cache of emails that never seem to stop growing. I glanced at the clock on my computer five times before I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to focus on work until I needed to leave.

I kept all my texts ambiguous, no longer trusting in Elliot’s promise to ask, not hack. My message to Jill was lighthearted, a simple, friendly check-in since I hadn’t seen her much since Christmas.

It was just after 7 when I popped into the hospital cafeteria, my eyes catching the wave of Jill’s hand as I scanned the room.

“Hey, babe! It’s been a minute!”

“A long, long minute,” I said as I sat down in front of her, twisting to hang my tote off the back of my chair.

“What happened?” Jill asked, as she bit into her sandwich wrap.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Weren’t things literally rosy on Valentine’s Day?” she asked, her words slightly muffled as she chewed.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Things were.”

I stopped and bit my lip, surprised by the tears that filled my eyes. Sometimes friends could bring out your vulnerabilities just because you knew they loved you without condition.

Jill put her wrap down and waited, her face soft, compassionate. It was no wonder she was so damn good at taking care of people.

“I guess … we just stopped communicating. And it built into this weird tension.”

I knew I had to be careful—I trusted Jill, but there was no way I could tell her, or anyone, about E Corp.

“Do you remember the night you met Elliot?” I asked in a rush.

“Hard to forget. Handsome and wounded. Rescued by the one person who’s always trying to save everyone from their worst selves.”

I smiled, a quick upturn of my lips to show my appreciation for her assessment of me.

“You have no idea just how wounded, Jill.”

I took a deep breath and recounted what happened in my apartment a week ago with as much detail as I could. My eyes were fixed on her sandwich as I fought to maintain an even tone.

When I finally lifted my eyes, to meet her serious gaze, I continued, “And he—whoever he is … was—that was the last I saw of him. I’ve tried calling, texting, emailing. And I tried from work, too. I had to lie to HR today so I know I’ve got to go see him. I can’t just let him fall into the void, but I need to know—what the fuck was that?”

“Shit, Y/N,” Jill breathed.

“Any ideas? I know you’re not a psychiatrist, but you see a lot of people in a day.”

“You said it was like he wasn’t himself? Like he was a completely different person?”

“Yes.”

“Did his voice change pitch?”

“No … but the intonation was different. The words he used were different. It wasn’t like Elliot at all.”

“Was he Elliot when you first got home—like for sure?”

I thought for a moment and nodded yes.

“Did anything happen, even something seemingly normal before he changed?”

“What do you mean?

“Well, like a tic. A neck crack, a twitch, body tensing, fluttering eyelids—even a prolonged blink.”

“Yeees,” I said slowly, then excitedly, “Yes! His eyelids fluttered and … and it seemed like he was withdrawing into himself.”

Jill was quiet, her brows furrowed as she thought. With an even voice, one that I recognized as her doctor-voice, she said, “I really think it’s dissociative identity disorder.”

“I do, too,” I replied with a sigh of relief. “I’ve been researching.”

“Unsurprising,” Jill said with a small smile.

“What do I do? Do I tell him—”

“No,” Jill answered quickly. “He needs to see a psychiatrist. DID is an incredibly complex disorder. People who have it spend a lot of time pretending to be normal, and there are parts of Elliot that may believe they are perfectly normal—maybe not normal, but at least in control. It’s all a part of the system’s coping mechanisms. If DID was easy to detect, it wouldn’t serve its purpose of protecting the core from their trauma.”

“So my research was right—DID is the result of severe trauma.”

“Severe, yes. Also, prolonged emotional, physical, or sexual abuse. Because DID usually begins in childhood, most cases involve parental neglect. A child is rarely able to cope with any sort of abuse on their own, so without a parental protector, the mind copes with that abuse anyway it can.”

“From what Elliot’s sister told me, neglect only begins to describe what their mother did to them.”

“Y/N. You can’t fix everyone who needs fixing.”

“You sound like Franco.”

Jill sighed, a smirk turning up the corners of her lips.

“I just want you to be careful. You absolutely cannot handle this on your own. Elliot needs professional help.”

“Can he—” I struggled to ask the one thing that scared me the most, the one thing never clearly answered in my research, “Can he ever get better?”

Jill frowned, “There’s no definitive answer. Some psychologists believe that if the alters can be integrated, a person with DID can live a normal life. But that doesn’t mean it’s a cure. A person with DID will always run the risk of dissociating. And if more trauma occurs, more alters may be created. It’s—complicated.”

“I never really knew there was anything wrong until Elliot was triggered. What if he’s not triggered anymore?”

“Well, that’s part of the most effective treatment. He needs to explore his triggers, learn his trauma, and heal. It’s years of therapy,” Jill said as she reached out and squeezed my arm.

“I love him.”

Jill finally smiled, “I know you do. And he loves you. I have no doubt about that, babe. But you have to realize there are no guarantees with this disorder. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“He’s worth the risk.”

I was already resigned to fight for Elliot. Every bit of our relationship was one step forward, two steps back, so it came as no surprise that with a leap forward, it was time to damn near fall back off a cliff.

* * * * *

Later that evening, close to 10, I used my key to let myself into Elliot’s apartment.

I was unsurprised to find it empty but surprised to find it in the same state of mess it had been over Memorial Day weekend: Dishes in the sink, unmade bed, clothes scattered, an ashtray near the window almost overflowing, and the trash full.

I took a step toward the garbage bin and realized that it was full of packaging materials and old computer parts.

Why the hell did he need to do a complete scrub?

I walked over to his computer desk and realized everything was new—tower, monitors, all of it had to have been purchased since the last time I had spent the night.

My mind again flashed to the hacks, and there was a gnawing in my stomach that I knew I couldn’t dismiss. Maybe Elliot wasn’t capable of such destruction and manipulation, but whoever he was when he wasn’t Elliot sure as hell might be.

With a sigh of mental exhaustion and because I had no idea how long I’d need to wait, I started fusspotting. I made Elliot’s bed, or at least I started to. As soon as I caught that sweet, citrusy scent of his shampoo mixed in with stale cigarette smoke, I spent the next few minutes sobbing into his pillow. He was broken and I was helpless to put him back together.

But I wasn’t helpless to pull myself together, so I sat up, scrubbed the tears off my cheeks and after a hearty sniff, I finished making his bed.

I glanced at his computer again, and felt a strong pull, like when high tide is coming in and the ocean’s waves are crashing and pulling with a ferocity. I could feel the water rushing past me, sucking me into the abyss.

I took another step toward his desk, my fingers twitching at my sides. I glanced at the door to his apartment before I slid my hand over the cool wood of the back of the chair.

My mind was at war.

Elliot hacked me.

Because he didn’t trust me yet.

He hacked my ex-boyfriends.

Because he didn’t trust himself.

He hurt me.

I withheld information about his own father.

Elliot loves me.

And I love him.

I backed away from the desk, swallowing thickly, my heart beating fast. I ran a shaky hand through my hair as I made my way into the kitchen and flung open the cupboard where Elliot kept his dish soap. I filled the sink with scalding water and concentrated on getting the few dishes in the sink commercial-clean.

I cleared the counter of the few take out containers that let me know he had at least eaten something this past week, and I stuffed them into the already full trash. I took the trash out to the dumpster alongside the building, and returned to the apartment, still empty.

I looked around for Elliot’s weed box and contemplated smoking up, but there was nothing inside. He was either too busy to refill or he was smoking that much now.

I scrolled through my phone, blindly reading a few work emails before I stopped and pulled up my messages. I stared at the screen, Elliot’s name already typed, a stupid black heart beside his name which felt achingly symbolic now. I had thought it was funny once—my dark little soul in his dark jeans with his dark hair.

I typed a message telling him I was waiting at his place but I deleted it, realizing that if I spooked him, I had no idea when I’d get another chance to talk to him.

Tossing my phone on his worn couch, I stood up and began pacing. After several laps, I pulled a book off the shelf and settled on Elliot’s mattress to read, my nervous energy slowly giving way to tiredness as the night wore into morning.

My head snapped up when I heard the keys in the lock; it was 2:30 in the morning when he finally came home, backpack on, hood up, my little black heart finally in front of me for the first time in a week.

He started to shrug out of his backpack as he walked further into the room, but he noticed me as I shifted on his bed, my feet sliding off the mattress to ground myself on the floor.

He froze.

His eyes were wide, staring at me like this was the first time he had ever seen me. Then they started to dart all around his apartment. I could see the panic settle across his features, and I tossed the book off my lap as I stood.

“Where the hell have you been?” I said with an anger that startled us both.

Elliot’s eyes washed over my face in a wave of apprehension, but he remained silent, his eyes moving away from my gaze to focus on the book I had dropped on the bed.

The longer he was silent, the more agitated I got. I knew what was going on wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair he got a pass for walking out on me, consciously or not, I really didn’t care at the moment.

“I lied for you, Elliot. First Ali, then HR. I told them your mother died because you’ve been gone for a fucking week.”

His head snapped up and he fixed his eyes on me for a few seconds before reverting them to the floor. He shrugged the rest of the way out of his backpack, tossing it beside the kitchen table. He glanced up again, his gaze traveling slowly up my face to look at me once more, his eyes a stormy hue as they peered at me from beneath his hood.

Still, he said nothing.

“Well? Where have you been?”

He took a deep breath, his mouth hanging open just a bit as he pulled his hood down and subconsciously fixed his hair.

I froze, my own face twisting into confusion.

There was something different about his movements.

This Elliot was slower, more deliberate, as if he were carrying on a conversation inside of his head before he decided to do anything, even blink.

“You know what—fine,” I said quietly, my mind swirling with a confused anger that I was now using to build a barrier between us. “You win. Everything is always on your terms. Fuck you, Elliot.”

His eyes snapped to mine as I took a few bold steps forward, determined to brush past him and get the fuck out of his apartment.

But he closed the distance between us, moving more swiftly than he had since he walked in the door. He grabbed my shoulders and stilled me. My eyes were burning into his as his searched my face, as he looked at me as if maybe he’d never seen me clearly before.

“How could you do this to us?” I asked, my voice a choked whisper, my eyes bouncing between his as I prayed to whatever god that was listening that he would finally answer me.

“Us?” he questioned in a gruff voice, his brows drawn and his eyes still the dark grey of a sky before a storm, still searching.

“Us,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.

His eyes bore into mine, contemplating, struggling to understand, then suddenly he closed what distance was left between us and kissed me.

When my lips parted with a soft oh of surprise, he pushed his tongue into my mouth as his fingers dug into my shoulders, steadying me.

My mind raced.

Elliot didn’t kiss like this.

Elliot didn’t move like this.

Elliot didn’t burn like this.

I pushed him back and stared at him, wondering if he was the same as he’d been in my apartment, but there was no iciness in his gaze, no boldness: only an unabashed want, a need. He seemed . . . more Elliot than not.

And I missed him.

I stepped closer to him, my hands shaky as they reached up to cradle the back of his head and the side of his face.

“Is this—is this okay?” he asked, his voice thick with lack of use, as one of his hands circled my waist and flattened against the small of my back while the other moved to tangle in my hair.

“I’ve missed you,” I said in answer, leaning in to kiss him, to get lost in this not-quite-Elliot.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself. Looking back, I should have known in that moment that if I was too weak to resist him, I was going to be powerless when he needed me to stop him—when he needed me to protect him from this part of himself, a part that would prove far more dangerous than his protector.

His hands were roaming over my body, grasping and kneading as we made quick work of each other’s clothes. He walked me back toward the bed, and I expected him to comment on the fact I made it, but he didn’t.

This Elliot didn’t care.

His hands found my shoulders and pushed me down, my breasts bouncing as they hit the mattress, but he was on top of me before my heart could even hammer out its next beat.

He stopped attacking my mouth long enough to pull back as he dragged his fingers over my body, pressing into my soft flesh and leaving little red lines that seemed to fascinate him until he bent to lick along wherever he left a trail.

His want was palpable, as if he had gone without human contact for far too long.

I tried to push him off so I could settle on top of him and slow things down, but he pushed back, clearly craving control.

His body was heavy on top of mine, pressing into me as he slid his hand between my legs, his fingers becoming slick with my arousal, especially once he pushed two of them inside of me, pumping once … twice, before he replaced his fingers with his cock.

I groaned as I yielded to him, my eyes slipping shut for a moment as I shuddered when he bottomed out.

His eyes were shut tight as he began to move in me, so I reached up and squeezed his shoulders before sliding my hands around the base of his neck, squeezing at his throat until his eyes shot open, his mouth parting in a long sigh of satisfaction.

I couldn’t read him at all as he looked at me, his eyes now making a solid argument for dark blue.

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he bucked his hips into me.

I moved my hands down to his chest, grasping at his pecs before he grabbed one of my wrists and squeezed, shifting as he pinned it above my head. He did the same to my other hand and I clutched onto the edge of the mattress since he didn’t have a headboard.

He stretched out over me, holding my hands in place as he fucked me.

“Control? Is that what you need?” I breathed out.

He said nothing, but he released my wrists and moved onto his haunches, pulling me with him.

Elliot did not have sex like this.

He grasped me around my rib cage as he pushed into me, fucking me slowly until his fingers crawled to the flesh of my breasts. He kneaded them, tweaking my hard nipples before he grasped onto the sides, pushing them together as he started to pound into me.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my tits as he picked up his pace and pounded into me, and I knew there would be tiny bruises in the morning. Air was escaping his mouth in breathy little pants, and still, he didn’t speak.

My fingers clenched around the edge of the mattress as I braced myself against him, wanting to take it all, wishing I could give it back—I wanted to consume his anger and his hurt, but I also wanted to feed him mine.

He pulled out of me with a hiss and scrambled to stand beside the bed. He held his hand out for me and when he yanked me to the edge of the mattress, he reached down and gathered a handful of my hair. He held me still as he pressed his cock against my lips, silently commanding me to open for him.

He was so quiet as he slid past my lips and onto my tongue; the only noises he emitted were sighs and low moans. He didn’t ask permission to come in my mouth and I added that to the list of reasons this was not-Elliot.

Not-Elliot, who watched with fascination as I swallowed every bitter drop he left in my mouth.

I barely had time to take a breath before I found myself pushed back on the mattress with his face between my legs. His lips immediately wrapped around my clit and sucked with fervor, demanding my orgasm instead of coaxing it. I tried to squirm away, the feeling too much, too soon, and when I firmly told him to stop, he did.

He looked up, his lips still glossy with my arousal, his face a twisted combination of confusion and frustration. It was clear a very strong part of him did not want to obey my request.

“Ease up. Please.”

He lowered his gaze slowly before he dipped his face back between my legs; this time, his tongue worked my clit and the little noises that escaped from his mouth made me impossibly wet.

I felt my orgasm building, my body desperate to clench around something, but he was either denying me intentionally or denying me because he didn’t know my body like Elliot did.

I had to settle for thrusting my hand into his hair and grinding up against his face as I came; he took it, burying his face against my heat as if he couldn’t get enough.

For only a moment, a hummingbird heartbeat, I relaxed into the mattress as my senses returned.

But before I even opened my eyes, he maneuvered my body onto all fours and was sliding into me with a long, low moan.

Elliot and I had a solid, satisfying sexual connection, but tonight, this part of himself was unleashed, like he had been caging some form of an animal-self.

We fucked for well over another hour and by the time he came again, this time while buried deep inside me, we were both spent, sweaty, bruised and scratched.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, he was asleep, passed out on his back, the sheet barely covering his body despite the chill that had crept into the apartment. I laid down and pulled the comforter up over both of us, keeping to myself on one side of his bed and wondering what the fuck just happened.

I didn’t want to fall asleep because I needed to be at work in a few hours, but I must have dozed off because I woke up to Elliot’s fingers ghosting over his handywork on my chest. When I opened my eyes, I startled him, his hand freezing along with his face.

With one long look into his eyes, I knew; whoever he was last night, was gone.

“If you want to keep your job, you’re going to have to come back to work on Monday.”

I knew he was listening, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the fingerprint bruises on my breasts. He swallowed thickly as his fingers brushed across a red scratch on my arm.

“You were a little rough last night.”

“I hurt you.”

“I let you.”

Elliot’s eyes filled with tears and he began to move away from me, his hand lifting off of my skin like it was poison.

“Do you remember last night? Or the past few days?”

He looked at me, helpless and hopeless, as a tear crested and slid down his face.

“You have to see someone, El. I can’t handle this on my own.”

He swiped at his eyes and at his cheek before he nodded in agreement.

“Come here,” I said softly, opening my arms so he could settle onto my chest.

I held him tightly, refusing to let him put anymore distance between us, and eventually, I felt his body shift and his arms circle around me.

“I—” he croaked and then tightened his grip.

“I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you want because I can’t lose you.”

“That’s the problem, El. You have to want to get better. Not because I want you to—but because you want to.”

“I want to be normal,” he said, his voice a desperate ache.

“At least I finally understand what that means,” I said with a dark, soft chuckle. “I fought you on it, but you’ve been right all along. You hurt so deeply. Until you stop hurting, you’re never going to feel normal.”

“Don’t—please don’t leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave you. But if you can’t stop hurting, you’re not going to stop hurting me. I can’t—I’m not a saint, Elliot. I get angry, depressed, and when you hurt me, it’s the scariest, most empty feeling I’ve ever had.”

I felt his tears start to spill onto my chest, hot and wet, and my own eyes welled up in response.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasped, his voice thick with tears.

“Oh, El,” I breathed, burying my face in his hair. “I love you.”

“I’ll go. I want to go,” he said with a determined desperation, his voice breaking its characteristic monotone.

“Okay,” I whispered into his hair, not bothering to hide the relief I felt.

* * * * *

Glassy-eyed and in yesterday’s clothes, I texted my secretary to let her know I was running late. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed, my exhaustion a malignance, settled deep, all the way to my bones.

But I had Elliot, my Elliot, back.

And more importantly, he knew he had a problem that was beyond his control and he was finally willing to face it. If we could just get through this next stage, I knew there wouldn’t be anything left that our relationship couldn’t weather.

I snagged a seat on the train and I leaned back, my body gently lurching from side to side as the train sped toward my apartment.

The clatter of the train and the quiet of the early-morning car permitted my mind to drift back to the Fourth of July, and I was assaulted by a deep sense of happiness, by a longing for a real future with Elliot.

I saw him, my little niece sitting on his lap, but slowly, Molly’s hair darkened and instead, there was a little boy, the spitting image of his beautiful father, sitting in Elliot’s lap. The little boy’s face was filled with awe as he watched the fireworks explode overhead.

This imagined Elliot turned to me and smiled with a picture-perfect grin of contentment.

Yes, I thought, my mind flirting with the edges of sleep, falling into a dreamy, dangerous state of half-consciousness, dangerous because my mind was too awake to ever forget the image I had just created.

Yes, I thought. It’s possible.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #female reader #rami malek #mr robot #mr robot fanfiction #Elliot x reader #rami malek character

109 notes · View notes

poc-movie-supremacy · 4 years ago

Text

Watcher AU: Cryptids

A.N.: This is the Shyan perspective on this little Au I wrote. Mothman Ryan is sent to Earth to hunt demons, along the way he picks up Buzzfeed’s resident skeptic Shane. Can Ryan keep Shane safe with all the demons around them? For @mousemadej I hope you like it

A similar fic but standrew perspective will also be written.

Do not tag or @ anyone from Watcher, I highly doubt any of them like rpf and nor do I want them to see this. It was a fun fic to work on, but I don’t need them finding it, please.

---

Jake Bergara deserved to go to heaven. He was the good, the pure one out of the two of them. He shouldn’t be blamed for Ryan’s faults. Heaven didn’t seem to think so though. Just the idea of Jake being like Ryan horrified them, but Ryan was nothing if not stubborn. Fed up, he barged into heaven demanding for them to let his brother in, be a guardian angel, like he’s always dreamed. They agreed, on one condition.

He was to do their dirty work: hunt demons.

Internally Ryan was baffled. That was an easy job, why would that be the one condition needed? Since it was an easy task though, Ryan didn’t verbally question it. Externally his face was neutral bordering on dark and he agreed.

Ryan Bergara, Mothman nicknamed by some real creative guy on earth, is Heaven’s latest demon slayer.

Jake wasn’t extremely happy about this turn of events, and frankly neither was Steven. The two getting a little buddy buddy after Jake earned his white wings and golden halo. Ryan didn’t know if he was entirely okay with it, but Steven was keeping his brother safe and what’s better than that. The night before Ryan’s job, Steven, Adam, and Jake through him a little party. He can tell there’s an underlying tension within the small party, but he ignores it in favour of spending his last moments of normal with some of his favourite people. Jake, with some help from Steven, thought about another way around this mess, but what’s done is done. You can’t exactly break a seal with heaven, so he accepts and gets assigned a human.

Ryan misses his brother, but he knows he’s safer in heaven. One can’t get injured in heaven. On earth he quickly realizes he’s going to need a job to be able to hunt demons inconspicuously. He gets a job at Buzzfeed. With the Try guys a thing, hunting demons can’t be that odd right? Anyways, Steven’s there too on and off to keep an eye on his human, Andrew Ilnyckj. It’s nice to have a friend there.

He means to demon hunt alone, he really does, but there’s this guy. Tall, lanky, white guy who’s a skeptic yet thinks hunting ghosts and demons is a hoot. Ryan bergrudengly takes him along. Jake and Steven think this new development is hilarious and never waste a moment to tease him.

Shane’s... odd. He doesn’t believe any of the ‘BS’ Ryan is trying to convince him. At first it angered Ryan to no end, but then he realized that he could kill demons in secret easier with Buzzfeed’s resident skeptic.

The show’s original intent was just two boys hunting demons, but Shane really loved crime cases. Thus, Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime was born. Ryan got some help from some coworkers and compiled Theories on unsolved crime cases. This set up was less adrenaline fueled than Supernatural is. Ryan likes it, it’s a pleasant reprise. They sit down in an little makeshift office with a corkboard in the back. It’s filled with future supernatural or true crime cases and updated info on Jake. Viewers like compiling theories what the cork board means. Ryan finds their ideas hilarious.

Ryan finds great enjoyment in riling Shane up so he makes sure to include outrages theories. One of his favourites is a zombie plague that killed the colonists of Roanoke. Shane looked so disappointed in him, it made Ryan laugh. As the years go on, Ryan finds this job more enjoyable. He feels more free when he gets to sit down and tell Shane his stupid theories. He enjoys coming up with bits with Ryan and pretending to be a serial killer. In truth it’s just him letting another side of his personality free, a part that he has to keep hidden lest Heaven smite him. He hears the internet call Shane a demon and he laughs about it with Jake and Steven.

Shane isn’t a demon. Sure he dissociates from his emotions, but he still has them. Also if he were a demon, then Ryan would have to kill him, and that’s the last thing Ryan wants to do. It’s terrifying, but Ryan’s starting to care for him. It’s an odd feeling in his chest, caring for someone. It feels different from how he cares about Jake and Steven.

Being able to work with Steven is always amusing. He has a different personality at work, so Ryan loves to poke holes in that persona. Andrew looks at them oddly at them when Ryan alludes to something from Steven’s childhood that makes him blush all over. Andrew thinks it’s a nice color, that blush, but he doesn’t think he could ever say that out loud though. (Ryan knows Andrew likes Steven and Steven likes Andrew. He has a running bet with Adam when they’ll finally get together. In the meantime Ryan finds great enjoyment in teasing Steven about said crush.)

On off times, they tell their co-workers that they go to play basketball when in reality they drive to a large empty field and stretch their wings. Usually it’s a competition on who can fly the highest. Ryan’s black and blue wings stretch out wide behind him. Steven joins him, unfurling his white and gold wings. It feels nice to use their wings after days of keeping them tucked away. They do play basketball sometimes, but not often. Steven loves to take this time to tease the hell out of Ryan. It shouldn’t be as effective, but when they get back to the office, Steven loves to almost flirt with Shane. Ryan and Andrew get jealous for different reason and Shane is a mix between baffled and curious. It’s utter chaos. Adam loves it.

On some level Ryan knew he had romantic attraction to Shane, but he was... wrong. He was at the very best a genetic disorder at the worst a monster. Heaven’s told him so despite Steven and Jake’s attempts to change his mind. He doesn’t- he can’t bear to see Shane’s disgust when he finds out the truth. So he lets his walls down, but not enough to form any romantic relationship with Shane. This job, their relationship, it’s good where it is. Ryan’s fine where they are, he has him like this, and that’s enough.

Today they were filming an episode for Unsolved Supernatural. They were ‘investigating’ a haunted house (killing a demon). It didn’t seem as bad at first. Ryan just needed to catch a lone shoe-stealing demon. Low stakes right?

ha.

Ryan did his solo investigation and couldn’t find the little demon. Unhappily, he sent Shane in next and continued to try and find the demon. His ears turned towards Shane, but he just heard the usual taunting. That was one thing Ryan wished he’d stop doing. One day Ryan won’t be enough to stop the demons and they’d come for him.

That day was today, go figure.

Ryan was listening to Shane laugh, easing his worries until the laughter turned to screams.

“Shane, Shane?”

Nothing but absolute utter silence from Shane, yet there was noise. Grunting, slobbering, heavy breathing filled Ryan’s senses. He dropped his camera, possibly breaking it, and sprinted. Cold dread filled his heart at first but was soon replaced with hot anger. His wings sprouted from his shoulder, fingers turning to claws, and eyes glowed blood red.

Easily bursting through the doors, Ryan tackled the ugly demon to the ground. He cursed his stupidity, the demon was a lot worse than he thought. It put up a good fight, but nothing could stop and angry Bergara, even Heaven bent to his will.

Ryan sunk his claws into the demon’s ‘heart’ and it fell down dead. Ryan let the adrenaline dwindle from his as he caught his breath. Slowly like he was walking through water, Ryan turned towards Shane. Then everything speed up. Using his wings, he knelt by Shane and checked him for wounds. There was a burn on his left side from his shoulder to his navel. Over his right chest was a big bleeding cut. Ryan took off his shirt and did his best to dress Shane’s wounds. Then he gathered him up and flew.

~~~~

Ryan sat quietly in Steven’s living room. Shane lay sleeping in Steven’s bed. They had gotten here a little over two hours ago, but the shook still clung to him. The sofa dipped and Steven’s forever warmth clung to him.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“He’s turning into a demon.”

Steven didn’t know what to say to that.

“I’m supposed to be hunting demons, my job is to kill them. I can’t- how can I kill him? This is, this was to keep Jake in job. Can you even break a promise with heaven?” Ryan’s voice brooke with unshed tears.

“If one could, I’m not surprised it would be you,” Steven commented.

“I- I he’s mine. He’s so good, and he doesn’t believe in demons and now he is one. How am I supposed to explain this to him?”

“He’ll probably figure it out on his own, you know, when he starts growing horns, a tail, and gigantic scaly wings.” Steven points out matter of factly.

Ryan would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it, but one thought kept bugging him. “What happens when Heaven sends me to kill him? I can’t kill him Ste, I just- I can’t live without him. He’s confident and he’s caring and he makes me laugh and he gets my sense of humor. And now he’s going to be disgusted and dead.” With that Ryan just let’s himself sobb. Instinctively Steven curls himself around Ryan to console him. He just holds him as he cries and rubs out a soothing pattern on his arm.

“Heaven won’t get him. Just as you promised to protect Andrew, we’ll protect Shane. He’s head over heels for you. Even if he was disgusted with you, he’s not worth it. You’re great Ryan, you deserve someone who knows that.”

It makes sense to Ryan on some base level, but it’s hard to wrap his head around. Ryan busied himself with helping Steven clean their feathers before passing out on the couch.

~~~~~

Shane woke up to absolute darkness, yet he could vaguely make out the objects in the room. Possibly a bedroom he thinks. For the life of him, he can’t remember how he got there. He remembers an old decrepit house, someone screaming and fighting sounds before passing out. Maybe someone was fighting him because his upper back is sore and he thinks he might have a fever. Gingerly, he gets out of bad and stretches to his full height. Then he promptly fell over.

Shane screamed in pain when his upper back collided with the floor. His weight distribution is all off for some reason now. The door burst open to one of the most confusing sights in his life. Ryan with hands for claws, glowing red eyes and ginormous black and blue wings. Next to him is Steven, literally glowing with a halo over his head, floating with the help of white and gold wings. Lastly pale as a sheet of paper Andrew, muscles tense and fangs out. Shane thinks he should’ve just stayed in bed, asleep, cause clearly he’s sleep deprived.

“Shane. What’s wrong? ARe you hurt.” Ryan’s voice was an octave lower than usual and vibrating. Steven swept a white light over the room only pocketing it when he looked satisfied. Shane was not satisfied.

“Ryan, the room’s empty.” “What the hell-” Steven promptly got cut off.

“How- Then why was he- why were you screaming?” Ryan focused his sharp almost angry gaze at Shane. It wasn’t angry, well not angry at Shane, it was anger at the situation, anger at whatever tried to hurt Shane. Not that he had any idea.

“I fell on my back trying to get up. Felt lightheaded,” Shane explained. Steven folded up his wings and slowly approached Shane who was struggling to get off the floor. He shied away from Steven’s touch, wary, afraid.

“We’re not here to hurt you, Shane. It’s okay,” Steven tried to say as soothingly as possible.

“People aren’t supposed to have wings. Their voices can’t vibrate. And they definitely don’t have fangs.” Shane spit out.

“Some can. Those from other wordly places can.” Steven’s voice doesn’t break away from it’s soothing calmness. He sounds like he’s talking to a spooked client. Ryan’s face is a deadly storm, all emotions trying to show on his face at once. His arms are crossed barring his large biceps. Shane doesn’t know wether to be scared or feel... safe. Even with the inhuman appearance, he’s still Ryan.

“Like cryptids? The one’s Ryan’s always ya-talking about?”

“Sort of like Cryptids... think more of cultural myths that you could have heard.” Shane finally stops shying away from Steven’s touch, and stills long enough for Steven to place an hand on his arm.

“But- they’re not real.” Shane tries to rebut weakly.

Ryan’s facial expressions tightens and he just barely bites back a sigh. “I’ve heard a lot of things about me, but after seeing my true appearance, questioning my reality isn’t one of them. Yelling in fear is one though. I knew you were stubborn Big guy, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

Shane likes that nickname. It warms his already sweltering heart. He could call anyone that, they happen to know a lot of tall men, but Shane got that nickname. No one else, him.

He gaped at Ryan, unable to say anything.

“Hey, Shane, let’s get you onto the bed. I need to give you a check up.”

“You’re a doctor?” Shane asks Steven as he lays out on Steven’s bed.

“I’m going to go finish the food. Feel better Shane.” Andrew the possible vampire nodded at Shane and exited the room. That left Steven and Ryan still in the room.

Finally calm, Ryan sheathed his feathers but didn’t dare to step any closer. Shane didn’t know if he was okay with that. It was Ryan, but also a completely different Ryan than the one he knew for years. He hated it. They had a connection, they had a relationship whatever it was, and in one night it was broken.

The room was still and almost silent while Steven gave Shane a checkup. Small noises of displeasure were heard here and there, but Ryan didn’t think, well he hoped everything was okay.

He never gets what he want does he?

“You’re symptoms are perfectly normal under the circumstances. The pain will be bad for a while, but eventually it’ll pass.” Steven stood up. “I’m going to go get you some medicine. Stay with him Ryan.” Steven tried to communicate that they should also talk while Ryan was cursing him out for not letting him stew longer.

Slowly, Ryan inched closer to Shane. “What does he mean: under the circumstances?”

Ryan knew what was going on, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Shane. “Just get some rest big guy.” Ryan hoped that was said as soothing as possible. The last time he had to be this gentle was when he had to take care of Jake after a bad day. It’s been years since that.

“No.” Shane groaned in pain. Ryan gingerly placed a hand on his upper arm and shushed him.

“Rest, Big Guy.”

“What’s going on? Ryan, what’s happening to me?” Shane pleaded with Ryan to help him understand. He didn’t want to tell him, telling him would mean having to accept what happened, that he wasn’t enough to save him, but Ryan couldn’t say no to those eyes.

“You were hoping to cause a ruckus in the demon’s lair while I planned on exorcising the thing during the solo investigation. I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Ryan swallowed composing himself before continuing. “I couldn’t do it during the solo investigation, so I sent you in while I searched the rest of the house. I kept an ear out for you, teasing demons... anyways, I kept an ear out for you and I heard you scream. It was the scariest sound in my life. You never scream Shane, and then you do, and it. It was blood-curling. Busting down the door, I caught the middle of a fight between you and the demon, you lost.” Pausing, Shane laid trembling fingers on Ryan’s thigh. Sometime during the story, Ryan ended up sitting on the other side of Shane on the bed. To feel Shane on him felt like both a blessing and a curse. “I tackled the demon and we fought until it died. You weren’t, you weren’t breathing Shane, so in a panic, I took you to Steven’s house.”

“And now I’m here. But what was Steven talking about, under the circumstances? Is something happening to me Ry?” Shane’s voice shook as his mind ran with possibilities. If vampires and angels were real, what could have happened to him?

“It burned you from the arm down to the navel and a big claw cut over you right chest. Because of it, Shane you’re turning into a demon.”

Shane wheezed, agitating Ryan further. “I’m not joking Shane. This isn’t the time for jokes. Heaven hunts demons, my job is to hunt demons, and now you’re one and I can’t kill you or see you die at all...”

At that moment, for better or for worse, Steven entered the room carrying medicine. He paused halfway through seeing Ryan worked up, and Shane a mix of pain, confusion, and... delight? He held the tray with one hand and walked over to Ryan. “You okay man?”

“He doesn’t believe me, I know he wouldn’t but it’s so fucking frustrating.” Ryan’s feathers were literally starting to get ruffled, so Steven tried to diffuse the situation before something bad happened.

“Hey, He’s Buzzfeed’s biggest skeptic, you know this is going to take a minute especially with him in pain. Patience, we got this.” Steven gave Ryan’s arm a squeeze before heading over to Shane.

“Hey Shane, I need you to take this. Here’s some water and food. Eat. Andrew made it just for you.” Steven silently asked Ryan if he wanted to stay with Shane. Ryan nodded a little forcefully to convince Steven, and didn’t leave the room when Steven did.

“Is this safe?”

“Yes you big baby eat it or die.” Ryan paused at his words but didn’t take them back. Shane stared at him, neither of them saying a word for a while.

“I’m turning into a demon?” It was phrased as a half question half statement. Slowly he ate the food Steven gave him. Shane usually wasn’t a picky eater, but after finding out the truth about the supernatural, a new hesitense came over him.

“Yup, the fever will subside into slightly reddish skin and horns will poke out of your skull. Wings, scaly, skin like wings will protrude from your shoulder blades. Etc.” Ryan tried to keep his voice as even-toned as he could to mask his panic.

“Etcetera? What else will happen to me?” Shane did not try and mask his panic.

“I’m not sure! Every demon turns out slightly different! You could get hooves, you could get a tail maybe red eyes like mine or solid black eyes. I don’t know!” Ryan almost shouted exasperated.

Shane looked at him slightly terrified and Ryan realized his voice took on the buzzing quality. He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, ok. It’s just, when Andrew got turned into a vampire it was fine. Heaven doesn’t hate vampires just finds them annoying. You’re a demon now, and heaven wants to kill you and that’s worse.”

Shane wanted to tell Ryan that of course it was worse, but the little guy was already worked up so he kept it to himself. “Breath Ry, I’m going to be fine.”

Ryan scoffed. “Easier said than done.” He looked over at him really looked at him and frowned. “Finish your food. Mother hen Steven wouldn’t be happy if you don’t.”

Shane grumbled quietly, “Are you sure the mother hen is Steven?”

“What was that big guy?”

Shane changed the subject, “Tell me about yourself, about this supernatural part of you. Are you also a demon? Or an angel?”

Ryan took a seat on the edge of the end of Steven’s bed. “I’m an angel with a genetic disorder. Instead of... being born like Steven, white wings with a halo, I got red eyes, black wings and no halo. We’ve been friends since we were kids. He found me and was the first person to offer to play with me, never left me afterwards, even when people didn’t take to kindly to me and my deformities. My brother Jake, also an angel sans genetic deformities, wanted to be like Steven. Heaven told him no though, because of me. Thought it something in the genes. I knew that excuse was shit so I fought tooth and nail to get him in. After a while they relented on the condition that I do their dirty work, hunt demons. Jake, Steven and Adam weren’t happy about this-”

“Adam’s an angel? That’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard.”

Ryan chuckled. “No Adam’s a merman.”

“Mermen can’t be real.”

“Oh they’re real big guy. Why do you think Steven and Adam live near the beach?”

“Because it’s California!”

“Not all of, nevermind. Anyways, they weren’t happy about my new job, but they were too late to do anything about it. I was sent to earth and got a job at Buzzfeed to hunt demons easier. Funnily enough, Steven’s newest charge, Andrew, also happened to work at Buzzfeed, so he could keep an eye on the both of us."

Shane mulled over Ryan's words as he finished his food. "He really is a mother hen. Also I don't think you're a deformity. You're Ryan, Wings or not."

"These," Ryan stood up and unfolded his wings and went full Mothman, "Don't scare you?"

"Not at all, although now I get why Mothman has the reputation he has, egoist."

"Oh says, you." Ryan paused and took a deep breath. "Thanks, for not being disgusted with me or anything."

"Ryan, you're my friend, other things about you disgust me, not this.” Ryan let out a wheeze making Shane smile.

~~~~~

The rest of the year and change was a flurry of events. Jake came down from Heaven to warn them of God’s wrath. They decided to pack up their jobs at Worth it and Unsolved and head out on the run until God’s bloodlust calmed down. They stayed close to the coast so that Adam didn’t have to follow them in a bathtub. Jake offered to stay behind and delay God’s army. Ryan wasn’t happy about it and outright refused until Jake promised that they would keep semi-constant contact, and immediately once it was safe, Jake would join them.

Shane’s transition into demonhood went as smoothly as one could hope. His wings were similar to Ryan’s black, blue, and even some green just more scale-y instead of feather-y. Being six-four and now adding six inch horns was something to get used to. He didn’t end up getting hooves or glowing eyes, but he did end up getting a tail.

Shane and Ryan’s relationship didn’t suffer much after the initial argument. There also might’ve been a kiss when Ryan was helping manicure Shane’s claws and horns. Shane initiated it. Ryan didn’t think he ever smiled that wide. (For a second he thought he was dying until he realized there weren’t actual butterflies in his stomach. Shane had a good laugh at that) Steven gave Andrew money, saddened slightly that he lost the bet.

Living on the run wasn’t easy. They missed their family and friends. It hurt to cut contact from them completely. But off-roading together made it bearable, made it okay. Listening to Shane’s odd songs to pass the time, eating Andrew concoctions that always ended up a little too raw if he wasn’t careful, giggling when Ryan and Jake get into arguments, it almost felt... domestic.

They mainly worked odd jobs to get some pay, never in the same place for over a year. Ryan, Steven and Jake never could stop helping people even if Heaven renounced their status, and would help helpless cryptids like themselves whenever they could. They almost adopted a fairy and had a run in with elmo’s know-it-all blue cousin (who really didn’t like Ryan) but that’s a story for another time.

Life wasn’t easy, not by a long shot, not by a mile, but it was there and they had each other, was that not enough?

#shyan #standrew #a little bit I guess #there are some ot5 moments but 1 there isn't a tag for it and 2 i don't think there's enough moments to tag it #I don't know someone read this and tell me how many ship moments I accidentally wrote into this #ella's worth it fics #ella's watcher fics #ella's unsolved fics #we're all fic writers here #the moment they go on the run is basically when they start watcher #in the original timeline ryan shane and steven just decided to give heaven the middle finger and help people on their own terms but once wri #ting the fic I realized that that timeline the events wouldn't play out in the way that we could get to that point #cause Andrew was supposed to be like a stay at home wife like a prarie wife with adam the merman to keep him company #then I write it and it's just like ha this can't go this way #so now there's more angst #and jake bergara #I didn't intended to have him in here so much but oh well #I hope yall like this #especially you Max #I would not have enough confidence to write this fic without you

12 notes · View notes

blaster-aichi · 4 years ago

Text

Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 17—19 things

feat some overdue screaming

IF 17

said overdue screaming

Without the context of epi 19, Kourin’s reference to original memories stands out as incredibly peculiar. Miwa’s response, while fitting for anyone else, could have an entirely new meaning after the revelation at 19′s conclusion, we’ll get there in theoryland.

Never knew needed Kai-kun working part-time jobs but it has become a huge need, thanks writers.

That’s gay. But it does suggest that the possible ruptures in IF’s reality aren’t isolated to Shin and Kamui in the previous episode. It would be nice to see any other instances from the possible ripple effect.

pre-19: “oh this face is a mood”. post-19: “different character but hmmmmm”

With all the Legion Mate comparisons floating around from the get-go, Naoki’s method in tackling his regret is an intriguing choice against his past efforts. In Link Joker, Legion Mate and the second half of the manga/Reboot, Naoki’s objective was to make for his inaction going forward and earn Aichi’s forgiveness. If given the opportunity to go back and redo things, he may have taken it, though having heard from Aichi personally that he’s thankful for everything and everyone that he’s connected with as a result of how events played out, Naoki may not have had the heart to do so. Without that talk, it’s natural that, instead of looking ahead and atoning, Naoki’s turning backwards, it’s a neat contrast.

The series has always built up the relationship between Aichi and Blaster Blade but the relationship between Kai-kun and Dragonic Overlord is so precious, it’s a shame that it wasn’t delved into prior to the past couple of years. The notion of evolving circling the both of them is incredibly fitting, with the history they’ve had in both continuities and the duality of their approaches. (It might have been occupying thoughts a lot since, the scene was so poignant).

Between his soldiers attacking during their first (onscreen) attempt to reach the root of the problem and Emi’s subsequent admission, props to Aichi for isolating it and cutting it off to anyone that tries to interfere, hoping it’s a part of any explanation to his reality warping (assuming it was him, until today, it seemed the only viable reason).

The comparison between Naoki and Kai-kun had me believe the former might join up with the main party as a nod to being there by the latter from beginning to end of Legion Mate, being both characters harbouring regrets (if Kai-kun were to regret that his IF life takes away from the happiness of the Outside World characters).

I just really, really, really love this scene. That is all.

Bless for highlighting the irony in the KaiAi units being adversaries.

Did I mention this is joint-favourite IF epi with epi 7? It’s not, it is and here’s one of many reasons why.

Reason #57 why: the battle choreography.

“Aichi Sendou isn’t the one you want to save”. Makes you wonder who was out to save the object of their regret and who was out to save themselves.

For a moment, had believed Naoki was not-dying (Retiring?) and being returned to the Outside World, somewhat surprised it hasn’t been utilized more beyond the Ultra Rare teams diving into the Akashic Book from.

Very Soft Cardfight. That is all.

Somewhere, original continity Naoki is screaming.

Tell this to your Link Joker self, please.

IF 18

On the one hand, Kai-kun walking around in Miyaji (with or without the context of IF), on the other hand, Bushi Eats.

Probably due to cracks coming from him getting a glimpse of the original reality, but Shingo cares an enormous amount for someone who, just a couple of episodes ago, said all the products in Card Capital were going to make him lose his mind.

“Awful big brother”. Laughs with shovel. (Comparatively, he’s brother of the year.)

PEDAL FASTER.

Love how Masaki and Shinji are named to overlap with their brothers’.

He’s going to fucking murder you.

[Kourin voice] Aichi is tired. [Me voice] As am I of your bullshit.

Wingal took so much time to train that it was only on his third appearance that he didn’t attack anyone. Also soft? So very soft.

NO THAT’S SO CUTE DAMN IT.

I have so much to say about Aichi missing Emi but also she’s barged in twice and you blasted out our of the castle on both occasions. Bullshit.

Do not pull the Legion Mate with me, boy.

Is he super dissociated because how do you even in the face of this?

It’s not just that he shouted her name, but the tone of his voice shouting at her. Thinking about just how extreme it is in comparison to the Aichi she knows and has kept company is pretty chilling.

Just how aggressive Aichi has become within the IF World is alarming; on only two occasions has he let anger get the better of him and one of those two wasn’t so bad. If this is to play on how warped he was going into the fight with Ibuki, good play on the writers’ part.

Semi-related to the above; with exception of three characters (Emi, Rati and Voidkuto), Aichi’s always used honorifics, and attached one to Kourin’s name, so to hear him address her without one is jarring, for lack of a better word.

THE BIG RED FLAG: Aichi’s expression in seeing Kourin having acted of her own accord (and potentially disobey him) smacks of two things: — his perceived crumbling control over the Sanctuary Knights, coupled with Naoki and Shingo’s desertion (his lack of reaction to the latter is bizarre, as it lends itself to and could bolster his hatred of Vanguard) — insinuates he never had control, but was allowed to think that he did. There’ll be a section beneath 19, which itself does a lot to fuel the flames of this suspicion, that will consolidate thoughts and the theory that’s been brewing since this episode last week.

On the subject of 19, Miwa being so nonchalant and passive about everything makes a lot more sense.

Let the girls fight physically more.

UBW Archer Class Meme-y Dialogue tingles.

Naoki and Shingo holding down the fort is very sweet, particularly when Shingo was alone in that task last time.

IF 19

Alarm bells rings first thing in the morning.

The irony in past Ibuki preventing Kai-kun going to Aichi after the past dozen episodes, there are no words.

Odd that the caveat of meeting yourself from another point in time presents itself when it didn’t occur in the first two episodes, unless, at least in this case, it applies only to past events.

There’s trying not to yell FGO at things and then there’s brain yelling “Lostbelt!” at Ibuki.

Rekka and Ren’s appearances gives me hope they’ll resurface; the main characters and audience know where their target is, so would like to think word will somehow get to them. (Speaking of. Nome? Where the fuck are you during all this?)

Episode loves playing with unsettling sights, very fitting for messing Ibuki’s head around, but simultaneously, making it apparent just how much of a threat Kourin specifically is. — On a related note: Kourin beats out Ren, Leon, Sera, Voidkuto and IF Aichi to have the most nightmarish face and I Am Afraid. Give Aichi a face like that al you’ll irreparably wound my psyche.

Intense Vibrating. They’re setting up Ibuki’s Deleting Aichi is relevant, it was the only one Kourin didn’t touch on in the episode and I am burning.

How dare you montage their time together with that music and then cut to this!

Did everyone else forget Jammers were a thing or was it just me being dumb?

Everyday I relate to Kai Toshiki.

Just going to appreciate Kai-kun gushing over giant robots in the middle of battle.

Kai-kun!Blaster Blade vs Greion giving me intense flashbacks to Aichi watching Kai-kun’s image in Blaster Blade sacrificing himself to try and fend off Greion just before he got Deleted and SCREAMS. — Once that fight is brought up directly, if you listen, you’ll hear Rena screaming in the distance.

If there’s anyone who has no room to talk it’s Miss This Thirsty For Aichi. Also when did you two switch places of tease and teased?

“Oh shit, he’s going to Delete Kai-kun”. “Oh okay, false alarm, thank G—” “OH NO SHIT HE’S ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT!” — On an actual note, seeing the three regrets prominent in this season all take separate routes is interesting; Shuka working to correct her wrongs in the present and moving ahead, Naoki trying to travel back and alter things from the point of origin and Ibuki being twisted to no longer feel regret, seek repentence and rather to repeat his actions. — Ibuki vs Aichi flashbacks intensify. — Also, mid-fall dab.

Double Agent Miwa is a blessing, who knew his acting skills were so good? Although the begs the question (if he was flat-out planted as a mole) how he earned Kourin and/or Aichi’s trust to become a Sanctuary Knight in the first place

IF 20 preview: HYPE! HYPE! HYPE!

Theoryland (Screaming):

Miwa being Takuto or Nome’s Outside World partner:

In both Rekka and Suiko’s cases, there was a companion venturing in alongside them, both of whom are friends of Kai-kun and the same age. Perhaps, Miwa may have been in league with one of the Tatsunagi brothers (having determined Aichi’s motivation and Kai-kun’s position in all this, calling on his closest friend to match the girls’ partners) through whom he gained insight into the situation and moved in order to protect Kai-kun; working from the inside to weasel information out of the others, understand how they operate, monitor their activities to keep Kai-kun out of their sights, (find Takuto, if with Nome) and maybe (find a means to or actively make an effort himself to) drag Aichi out of his current state. It may be that, instead of Sanctuary, his abduction of Kai-kun had the destination of a rendezvous with Nome until the girls’ interference and the entire incident went off the rails.

Aichi as a puppet king and Kourin the true human antagonist:

Since his expression in seeing Kourin on the offensive without his say-so, it’s been on my mind that Aichi hasn’t actually been in a position of power whatsoever throughout IF, but he’s been led to believe he is, and the act might be withering. As "original" memories factor into it and Ultra Rare’s were lost at the end of the main Reboot continuity plot, it’s possible they may be on the line as they were in Link Joker/Legion Mate. — As she’s aware there are such memories, it’s possible that they were triggered into resurfacing when Takuto appeared within IF World and encountered her and Aichi, leading to his capture and confinement, so as not to cause any further damage to the world fabricated. — Alternatively, she might be acting in order to keep the force (a Brandt remnant remains my personal suspicion) that has Aichi in his current state at bay. Her unease in seeing him hanging above the scene outside Sanctuary as she attacked the others might suggest that she was worried it could break loose, as she’s never been one to be rattled. This is why “human” was specified above, because whatever the case, any corruption in Aichi is evidently the overarching antagonist force.

Additionally, throughout the season, Kourin has been fiercely territorial around Aichi, speaking and acting on his behalf, while keeping the other Sanctuary Knights at an arm’s distance. She alone enters his private quarters, sees him in pain, and (no, haven’t given up entirely on the right eye thing, there have been other people around when he’s outside his Alfred form and it was visible) privy to any secret circulating him (as well as IF’s true nature), while keeping the others in teh dark. Her reasoning may be wanting to keep him under he thumb or prevent whatever’s inside/in control of him from running rampant.

And in regards to Ibuki, Aichi made the declaration about casting him elsewhere, but Kourin was the one who enacted it, and the sole player in manipulating him to switch sides. There’s no certainty that Aichi is even aware, much like he might not be conscious of Naoki’s betrayal. — Her being responsible for recruiting might also explain why Misaki was never a Sanctuary Knight: Kourin desired she have an ordinary, happy life, not unlike Aichi’s wish for Kai-kun.

In a truly ironic turnabout, it looks to be that Kourin is IF’s Sera.

#Cardfight!! Vanguard #Cardfight!! Vanguard IF #cfv spoilers #long post

7 notes · View notes

arabellaflynn · 4 years ago

Text

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was.

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any.

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys.

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/3tNUiEa via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!

#IFTTT #Blogger #Unsolicited Advice

1 note · View note

shhh-no-ones-home · 5 years ago

Text

comfort crowd chris motionless x reader

+++++++++ This is officially the longest one shot I've ever written at just over 2400 words. Yikes. it doesnt feel that long i promise. I needed this off my chest though. This is the one I was struggling to write and needed ideas for the other day but I kind of figured it out.

Prompt: depression strikes at the worst times. It can take so much from a person but that doesn't mean you have to do it alone. - Chris comes to help y/n out, giving their meds, bathing them, feeding them, making sure they don't hurt themselves 💕 - comfort fic

Song: you will be found from dear evan Hansen

tag list: @thisplace-ishaunted @ryansitkowskiswifey @alilpunkrock @theoneandonlykymberlee +++++++++

I laid in the middle of my floor and stared at the ceiling. I hadn't moved in almost three hours. My thoughts were empty and I couldn't bring myself to move. Better yet I hadn't left my bedroom in a week, maybe long enough to go to the bathroom but that was about it. I slept all day, stared at the ceiling all night and repeated that for days on end. It was currently ten at night but I only knew that cause I could see the reflection of my alarm clock in the mirror across from my bed. My phone buzzed but I couldn't bring myself to look at it, it had been the same for the last couple days too. I hadn't showered, I hadn't done laundry, and I'd barely eaten or drank anything. I didn't wanna say it was the depression cause that meant giving in but I knew it really was. I heard my front door unlock and click open but didn't pay too much mind to it.

"Y/n?"

I heard him call. I didn't answer. My voice was too tired.

"Y/n?"

I heard him come closer. Then my bedroom door clicked open and in stepped Chris. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God your okay."

I just stared up at him.

"Are you okay?"

He asked but I still didn't answer. My gaze followed him as he knelt down next to me.

"Are you going through another episode?"

I nodded slowly and he sighed.

"Okay, let's get you out of here then."

I nodded again before he slid his arms under me and picked me up bridal style. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders loosley as he walked me out to the living room. He sat me gently on the couch before wrapping the blanket I kept on the back of it around my body.

"Have you eaten?"

I shook my head no.

"Okay, don't go anywhere."

I sent him a look. As if I'd actually move on my own.

"I know I know."

He defended. I dropped my head back against the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. It felt like mere minutes before be came back with soup and grilled cheese but I guess time feels different when you dissociate. I stared at him as he set it down on the coffee table in front of me.

"Are you gonna sit up and eat that or do I have to force feed you like last time?"

I sent him a warning glare as he sat next to me. He held his hands up.

"Hey, it's your choice."

I looked down at the food and felt sick. I didn't want it. I didn't want to pick it up and actually put it in my body. He stared at me as he waited for me to do something. Then I looked back at him and shook my head no, tightening my arms around my waist. He sighed.

"Force feeding it is then."

I shook my head violently as he picked the sandwich up.

"Come on y/n, you have to put something in your body. I don't wanna show up in a day or two and have to take you back to the hospital. Have you at least been taking your medicine?"

I looked a little ashamed. I hadn't.

"Well we'll have to get that in you too, it doesn't work if you don't take it."

He pushed the sandwich towards my mouth but I didn't budge.

"Please?"

He asked with pleading eyes. I blinked slowly at him. He sighed again before bringing his other hand up and holding my nose closed. I held my breath as long as I could, my face getting redder. Then I couldn't hold it anymore and opened my mouth to let the air in, as well as the sandwich he was holding.

"Bite."

He said in a demanding tone and I rolled my eyes at him, doing as told.

"Thank you."

He said, pulling it away so I could eat that bite. When it was gone he put the sandwich back to my face and I actually took a bite willingly. We carried on like that until it and the soup was gone, fighting back and forth. When it was gone he took the dishes to the kitchen and didn't come back for a while. I closed my eyes and slowly faded into sleep. When I woke up again Chris had just walked back into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel.

"I did your dishes and went through your fridge. There was a lot of stuff that was bad so tossed it."

I yawned and nodded.

"Still no voice?"

He asked but I didn't respond, didn't even nod, just blinked at him.

"When was the last time you had a shower?"

I thought for a second before offering a weak shoulder shrug. He nodded once.

"So we're doing that today too?"

I sighed.

"I know you don't really like it but you need to be clean, it's a step in the right direction. And you know you always feel a little better after."

I hummed in response.

"I'll start your laundry after I run the bath. I'll be right back."

I nervously scratched at my arm under the blanket and I watched him walk away. It was a bad habit I had picked up over the last few episodes. If I felt like I couldn't or didn't want to do something I'd try to forget about it by scratching at my arm. It wasn't always in the same spot and I had a few scars from it. Chris knew that, he had taken care of me so many times this was routine for us. If I didn't answer his calls for a few days hed come over and take care of me, or at least make sure I was taking care of my self at the bare minimum. When I heard the Washing machine start i listened for him to come back and he did, just like always. He had a towel in his hand.

"You walking in there or am I undressing you here and carrying you?"

I stared up at him for a second and he just waited. After about a minute he dropped the towel to the couch.

"Here it is."

He said before kneeling in front of me, pulling the blanket off. I stared at the wall as I kept scratching and he held my hand, making me stop. I knew I probably scratched too far, my finger nails burned just as much as my arm did. I saw him shake his head and I looked down at him.

"You know you aren't supposed to do that."

Then I looked down at my arm and saw the small traces of blood. He looked up at me and frowned before pushing my shirt up.

"Arms up?"

He asked but I couldn't. I just let them fall to my sides.

"Okay, one at a time it is. This one really is bad isn't it?"

I groaned before he lifted my shirt up off each arm and over my head.

"One done, a few more to go."

He offered a smile before moving to my pants. They were just sweats but still. He pulled them down a little before I lifted my hips off the couch for him to take them.

"Thank you."

He said as he dropped them on the couch with my shirt. I just sat against the couch, limp.

"Underwear is next. You still have a chance to walk in there instead."

I shook my head slowly.

"Okay, then here we go."

He reached around me and undid my bra, dropping it to the pile. He then unfolded the towel and placed it over my chest, tucking it under my arm pits. Then he pulled at my panties, pushing them down, me lifting off the couch long enough to slide them off. I moved my arms as he moved the towel to wrap completely around me.

"You ready?"

I shrugged.

"Okay."

he slid his arm under my legs and picked me up again, walking me to the bathroom and slowly lowering me into the bath, sliding the towel to the floor before it got wet. There were already some bubbles in the tub but not too many. he had learned last time that it's easier to put some soap in the water first in case I fight him while he's trying to scrub me down.

"Head first or body first?"

I held my arm out of the water so the scratches wouldn't start to burn. He reached over and turned my head to look at him.

"Do you have a preference or are we just going in?"

I looked up.

"Head first it is."

He grabbed the cup off the side of the tub and filled it with water before leaning me back and letting it run over my hair. I sighed at the feeling as he did it again, making sure my whole head was wet. Then I watched as he grabbed the shampoo, leaning into him as he lathered it on my head.

"Feeling better?"

He asked as he turned to look at my face. He kept working his fingers into my scalp as I nodded. When he was done he dipped his hands into the water before getting the cup and rinsing my head off.

"Body next?"

He asked as he reached for my loofa but I stopped him.

"You wanna do it?"

I nodded slowly before taking it and letting him put the soap on it. He sat back on his knees as I dipped it into the water and began rubbing it over my body slowly. When I was almost done he sat back up.

"Want me to get your back?"

I nodded and handed it to him, feeling him push my hair over my shoulder and sighing as he began rubbing my back. I closed my eyes and dropped my arms into the bath, hissing as the water hit my scratches and immediately pulling my arm out of the water and splashing chris.

"Hey!"

He said backing away from me and I just pouted.

"I told you not to scratch, you know better."

I crossed my arms over my chest and sat back, scooting further into the water; hiding from his words as well as rinsing myself off. He sighed and shook his head as he rinsed the puff.

"Are we done?"

He asked with a raised brow and i continued pouting.

"Don't make me drag you out of the tub."

I glared at him and sat up, watching him pull the plug to drain the water and grab the towel. He started by drying my hair off, rubbing it over my head. I groaned angrily at him and he pulled the towel away.

"What now?"

I just huffed and turned my attention to the tub wall. He rolled his eyes at me. Yes it was childish but he pulled my hair. He wrapped the towel around my shoulders and started drying my body. When I was dry he wrapped the towel around my body and picked me up out of the tub. My arms were still crossed over my chest but I was slowly letting go, loosening my grip on myself. He walked into my room and sat me gently on the edge of the bed.

"Pajamas or lounge clothes?"

He turned to me as he stood at the entrance to my closet and I shrugged.

"Flowy dress?"

He asked and I smiled for the first time all day, nodding my head. He knew that always made me feel better too, it was hard to be mad in a dress that made you feel like a princess. He smiled back at me.

"Flowy dress it is."

He flipped through my closet until he found a purple one and pulled it out.

"This one comfy enough?"

I nodded and he walked to me, taking it off the hanger.

"Arms up?"

I uncrossed them and did as told, allowing him to slip the dress onto my body, letting the towel fall to the bed under me.

"Do we want matching bottoms?"

He asked pulling open my underwear drawer. God he had been in there way too many times to count. At this point he probably knew my wardrobe better than I did. I shrugged. He thought for a second and rummaged around in the drawer, pulling out panties that were almost the same color as the dress.

"How about these?"

I nodded. I looked down at him as he knelt down, helping me slide my legs in each hole. He got to my knees and placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me as I stood slowly, legs wobbling like a baby giraffe. He sat up a little bit, pushing his shoulders up into my hands. I used him to keep me steady as he pulled them up my legs the rest of the way until they were comfortably on my hips. He slipped his hands out from under my dress and held my hips to keep my steady.

"Can you stand alone?"

I took in a deep breath and nodded a little unsure. My body was so weak from not eating for the last five days. I watched him stand up and feel forward into him. He snaked his arms around my waist and picked me up bridal style again. I breathed heavily.

"It's okay, I've got you. I'm not letting go."

He held me tightly to his chest and I snaked my arms around his shoulders, hugging him. He walked is back out into the living room and sat down on the couch, keeping me in his lap.

"Are we feeling better now?"

I blinked slowly at him and nodded. He rubbed my back gently. I wanted to sleep again, by now it had to have been well into the early morning.

"Do you wanna go to sleep?"

I nodded.

"Are you fine staying here? Your clothes should be done soon, I was gonna wash your bedding."

I nodded again. He kissed my temple.

"Okay."

I could feel him move and clutched onto him tighter. I didn't want him to leave.

"It can wait."

He said gently, pressing his forehead into mine. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

"Thank you."

I croaked out, barely audible. My throat was sore just from trying and my mouth was dry. I hadnt spoken in over a week. He hugged me tighter to him.

"I'll always be here for you."

I nodded against him.

"You never have to be alone."

#wattpad #x reader #miw #chris motionless #chris cerulli #imagines #one shots #163

92 notes · View notes