#i guess ill just walk on eggshells again

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

My Place By Your Side

Painland Week Day 1 - Love Languages/Sickfic

Charles/Edwin - post-canon

@painlandweek has brought me so much joy, it's so fun to just write for the sake of celebrating something I love again

Word count: 3920

summary:

When Edwin gets sick, Charles needs to figure out a way to comfort both Edwin and himself.

“Mate, that really doesn’t look too good.” Charles was crouched over Edwin’s arm, the shirt-sleeve rolled up to reveal the pale skin that sported dots in varying sizes and colours that made Charles feel sick in return. The rash reached from his elbow until the back of his hand, starting small in muted earthy tones that anyone else might have mistaken simply for moles. But Charles knew Edwin like no one else. He could’ve reached out and found every scar, every beauty spot or callus blindly in an instant. He could’ve counted the speckles in Edwin’s eyes from memory alone. 

“Astute observation, Charles,” Edwin sniped but Charles wasn’t fooled. The distress in his voice was obvious, pitchy and cutting around the vowels. He had spent the better part of the day going through his collection of books that dealt with similar symptoms while he kept anxiously glimpsing at the exposed skin. It had not reached the other arm yet but when Edwin lost his bowtie, complaining about the heat in the office that had never bothered him before, Charles could see hot pink and green speckles like those on Edwin’s hand. 

“No reason to snap, mate, I don’t know what caused this either.” 

If there was any indicator for how worried Edwin was in that moment himself, it was at what speed he gave in. Charles could see him practically wilt right in front of him, his shoulders drooping and Edwin shifting his weight self-consciously from one foot to the other.  

“I do apologise, Charles. I frankly do not know what to do.”

Charles frowned. Edwin was stubborn on his worst days, a quality Charles found oddly charming. To see him fold so easily was more disconcerting than it should have been.

Charles stood up and moved to put his hand on Edwin’s shoulder in comfort, trying with all his might to make it seem casual and not an act to calm his own nerves. Before he could feel the soft fabric, however, Edwin flinched away, forgetting to phase through the desk and instead hitting it and knocking down the last payment they had received for a job well jobbed (a magical ball of wool that kept changing colours depending on your mood).

Well, Charles thought hysterically, there was that.

In the unsure way only an entirely gobsmacked person could manage, Charles drew his hand back.

His heart hurt. He didn’t know that was still possible.

In general, Edwin wasn’t known for initiating their physical contact but he certainly wasn’t averse to it, always grateful for feeling Charles close to him. Except for literal Hell, Charles couldn’t remember a time where Edwin had avoided his touch. 

“Charles,” he heard, but the word hardly registered. He kept awkwardly staring at his hand.

“Charles,” Edwin said again, closer now again as he cautiously inched around the desk. 

“Mhh.” The sound was less acknowledgement and more a way to push back the cry that wanted to force its way out of Charles’ mouth.

“You must know that I mean no offence,” Edwin began, which almost caused Charles to snort or, at the very least, crack a smile. Never in their friendship after the day of their meeting had Edwin bothered with sugar-coating anything. Charles had spent the majority of his life tip toeing around his father in fear of his rage at any given moment. Until he met Edwin, he hadn’t known how much he’d like not having to guess someone’s feelings and walk around on eggshells. 

Edwin cleared his throat. “I do realise this situation is far from ideal, what with all these new cases.” This at last pulled Charles somewhat out of his stupor. Who cared about the bloody cases? “But we cannot risk you falling ill as well in the pursuit of helping me get to the bottom of this. We don’t even know whether it is contagious, not to mention by touch or mere proximity!”

Edwin ran both hands through his hair, messing up the carefully coiffed strands. It was a gesture so jarringly agitated and foreign on him that it shocked Charles once more. “Therefore,” he concludes, “it would be better if I keep my distance until I have found a solution.”

And the worst thing was: Charles couldn’t blame him for coming to this conclusion. This supernatural disease could end up in more chaos than they usually dealt with. Because what else could it have been? Edwin had his last cold in 1915 and the last time he had so much as sneezed was when that poor bloke’s head had blown up into their faces in Port Townsend and he had been too shocked to let it not affect him.

No, Edwin was right. This could endanger the agency if Charles accidentally got sick too. One detective out of commission for legwork was bad enough and he didn’t want to imagine one of their clients catching this. 

Didn’t mean that Charles had to like this plan, though. And it wasn’t particularly about them not being able to touch anymore for the foreseeable future. Despite how right Crystal was when she said that they lived in each other’s pockets, they weren’t literally attached at the hip. 

What Charles actually made nauseous was the way in which Edwin had recoiled from him that resonated horribly within him. Ghosts couldn’t normally get cold, but Charles felt like someone had shoved a bunch of ice cubes into the inside of his polo shirt, leaving him shivering and shaken. 

He never wanted to make Edwin feel scared of him and even though he knew that Edwin was just trying to protect him, something about the alarm in his eyes had him thinking back to seeing himself in the mirror when he heard his father come home early. He had sworn to himself that he would never put this look in anyone’s eyes - accident or not. He had already failed at that with the Night Nurse, but even then it had been Charles who had shied away from contact and not Edwin. Never Edwin. Until today. Edwin used to freeze, sure, and it had taken a long time for Edwin to lean on Charles as well, but he didn’t know what to do now with the sharp panic edged into his best mate’s features.

A soft sound made him pay attention to his surroundings again. Edwin was still standing at least an arm’s length away from him, his hand curled into a fist to knock against the top of the desk to get Charles’ attention. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, his mouth a thin line. A blue dot had reached the side of his throat.

Charles sighed and shot him a quick smile, trying to seem fondly exasperated at the worry. 

“For sure, mate. You’ll be well in no time, it’s gonna be brills.” 

Charles hated this for both of them, but most of all for Edwin. From the outside, nothing seemed to have changed. Edwin was still sitting at his desk, rifling through paperwork, while Charles sat upside-down on their couch, throwing the magical ball of wool from one hand to the other. It was navy blue.

He felt like there was an invisible barrier between them, a line Charles couldn’t cross without repercussions he couldn’t imagine. Edwin looked like a confetti cannon had exploded right in front of him, the confetti littering his face. 

After Niko and Crystal showed up at the agency to keep an eye on Edwin (Edwin vehemently argued that he did not need a minder, thank you very much), Charles had risked a quick mirror-trip to Tragic Mick to get advice. To everyone’s dismay, Tragic Mick said there was nothing they could do except wait it out. 

That was two weeks ago and Charles thought he was going insane. His best mate constantly looked on edge and seemed on the verge of tears at every minor inconvenience in his files. The Night Nurse was no help either, opting to comply with Edwin’s self-assigned quarantine that he had set in motion after Crystal expressed a slight scratching in her throat. The only acceptable exception to his isolation was Charles. Which should make him feel better but it just made him long even more for Edwin because he could see him. 

No, they never used to touch constantly but there had always been the possibility. Having this revoked from him, the reassurance that Edwin was in reach, that he was there, made his skin feel tight. After Hell, it had been so good to walk next to Edwin, leaning into him or letting his fingers brush Edwin’s shoulders - to have physical proof that Edwin was with him. 

Now, Charles sometimes looked at Edwin, watching the outline of him against the backdrop of the window so hard that he was almost convinced that Edwin was just a figment of his imagination. That only his silhouette was left for him to admire from afar while the real Edwin was still stuck in Hell.

Other times, he just stared into the air, his mind stuck on how Edwin jerked back on impulse - to get away from Charles. He never wanted to make Edwin feel helpless but he still managed to fail, leaving Edwin with the desperate need to get enough space between them. The thought was enough to repeat the moment again and again, a split-second decision that haunted Charles.

Poorly suppressing a groan, Edwin stood up and started pacing the floor. He came to a halt in front of their massive bookshelf, where he started pulling out books at random, flipping brusquely through the pages. Every so often, a gust of wind came through their window that turned the pages, which made Edwin quietly swear before giving up. They were less than four metres apart but it might as well have been an entire ocean. Edwin kept pulling on and off his gloves in irritation. All Charles wanted to do was to make it somehow better. He needed to make it better. But usually his strategy for making Edwin feel better was to hug him or lean into his side or put his head against his. 

On the day Niko and Crystal finished moving into their new flat, Niko spent an evening curled up with Charles on her bed doing quizzes online while Crystal introduced Edwin to the confusing twists and turns of reality tv next door. One of the quizzes was called, “What is YOUR Love Language?” and after Niko explained the concept to him, Charles set to answering the questions until the words, “Physical Touch” blinked at him. He hadn’t put much thought to it except yeah, that checks out.

But Charles was at a loss now. How could he cheer Edwin up? When he was in this space of mind, no word of support would get through to Edwin, but how else should he reach him?

He tried anyway. “Mate, we’ll get through this, you know that, right? Tragic Mick said it’ll pass and you trust him.” At least he did after his soapstone bear had managed to save Niko. Charles made sure to make his voice as happy as possible, as “happy-go-lucky” as he could manage.

“I know.” But the flat tone told Charles that Edwin didn’t know. Bloody hell, why did he have to be so rubbish at words? In the end, though, there was nothing Charles could say in this situation that would ease Edwin’s worries. Charles had a lot of practice soothing Edwin when he was stressed about something but he wouldn’t be fobbed off with sweet nothings. Normally, Charles could give Edwin a new perspective, but right now Charles was in the same hole of despair and however hard he’d wreck his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything remotely helpful. 

Sighing, he let himself slide down off the couch and onto the floor when something caught his eye. He reached out and found a small box on top of a stack of colourful paper. The box contained pretty ribbons, glitter pens, googly eyes, different yarns and at the bottom, there was a thin booklet about origami. Niko must’ve left it here, she enjoyed making all kinds of decorations and had gone at it with extra vigour when Crystal allowed her to decorate their flat (under supervision by Edwin. Who was not as assertive as one might have imagined, only fools thought someone could resist Niko).

Charles tilted his head, discreetly looking at Edwin who didn’t pay him any attention, a hopeless expression on his face, his now once again gloved fingers curling uselessly. Charles would do anything to see Edwin smile again, no matter how long this nightmare would go on. And Charles got to work.

Charles couldn’t say that he was a crafty person, in life or death. He knew his way around his bag of tricks and could hold a paintbrush well enough to paint runes and used to do pottery with his mother. But he never made things like the adorable mug cosies Niko loves. 

Therefore, he figured he should start simple. In this case - a bookmark. Edwin normally didn’t bother using them because he is the brains, after all, he just memorised the last page he had read. There were cases, though, where they both were in a hurry and having to spare precious time for Edwin to rifle through a proper tome while the danger came closer and closer was never a good time for any of them. 

A bookmark it was, then. He first made a dark blue one, a paper rectangle with a hole through which he threaded a few threads of silver yarn and knotted them. It looked elegant, something that would fit into Edwin’s encyclopaedias or the poetry books stacked in-between. Edwin was sitting on the desk, playing with the now grey-ish ball of wool. Charles would tease him, because Edwin was the one who usually chastised Charles lightheartedly for not sitting properly, but honestly Charles was just relieved Edwin was doing anything but forlornly looking at his files. They hadn’t bickered in days. Edwin seemed exhausted enough that he didn’t talk much. Charles would be scared that his best mate was getting sick of being stuck here with him. And a part of him was still petrified of how scared Edwin had acted and that was the only thing that kept Charles from following the direction in which every atom of his body longed to pull him - right into Edwin’s arms, his face plastered into the crook of his neck. It kept him confined to his spot on their couch, embarrassingly conscious of their positions in the room, the walls closing in on him whenever he blinked, compelling him to press deeper into the cushions to give Edwin the space he deserved.

But even he realised that the “stuck here” part without being able to go on cases as an outlet was the problem and not Charles. He willed his mind to shut it. 

Speaking of cases, he felt bad leaving Edwin behind and in the one case had been on since Edwin got sick, a deep feeling of homesickness had made him careless, like a missing limb throwing him off his balance. 

From then on, he had referred the easier cases to Crystal and Niko, while he had checked in with their clients with more difficult cases and told them they would get back to them as soon as possible. 

Now Charles was on a new case: The “Give Edwin Presents (Probably) Debacle”. He picked up the bookmark and slowly made his way towards Edwin, hiding the gift behind his back. “Hey there, mate,” he grinned, coming to a halt in front of him - still far enough from him to not freak him out -, and nervously shuffled his feet.

The ball of wool flashed a subdued pink hue. “Charles,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips, a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There were so many dots in his face, blue and green and magenta. The others on his arm hadn’t disappeared either but at least didn’t Edwin seem bothered by the heat anymore. Small mercies. “Is there something you need?”

I need you to get better, I need to reach out again and feel again, I need to sit near you again, my place is still there, right? By your side? Do you forgive me? Say it’s going to be okay soon.

“Ah, no mate, everything’s aces. So, ah, you know, business is pretty slow right now, so I thought I’d make you a little something to…” to pass the time, he almost said, but that wasn’t right, was it? Charles didn’t want Edwin to think this came from simple boredom and not from the heart. “to make you smile,” he finished, holding the bookmark at one corner out to Edwin so that he could grab the other one.

But Edwin didn’t reach out immediately and instead stared down at it, puzzled beyond belief. 

Humour had rarely disappointed him. “Come on, mate, don’t let me down here. I might just cry,” he joked.

This set Edwin in motion and he reached for the bookmark, inspecting it. And after turning it in his hands a couple of times, he finally broke out in a brilliant smile, his eyes bright. He looked up at Charles and made an aborted move like he wanted to hug him, but for the first time in weeks, the realisation that that wasn’t possible right now didn’t dim the spark in his eyes. 

“Thank you so much, Charles. It’s beautiful.” Charles basked in the unabashed sincerity and warmth. It had been such a simple and easy thing to do but hearing Edwin’s praise made him happy and proud in a way he couldn’t describe with words. He didn’t need to, he was feeling it.

“Don’t mention it, happy to do it.” And he was. 

It didn’t stop there. The bookmark found a home in one of Edwin’s favourite books and another one soon followed - an origami bookmark corner for which Charles found instructions in the book. It was quite nice to have something to do with his hands, being careful to neatly fold the corners and afterwards decorating it with silly googly eyes and a glitter pen smile. Edwin found it incredibly charming.

“That’s going to come quite in handy on cases, the other one might fall out, thank you!” The excitement was addicting and Charles loved seeing how Edwin flourished. 

The dots became fewer. Charles counted them like the days that passed on the calendar. 

An origami owl followed. He used a light green sheet of paper, gave it buttons as eyes and made a bowtie out of a red ribbon. When Edwin saw it, he smiled this soft smile that made Charles melt inside. “I don’t think ‘thank you’ suffices anymore,” he murmured. “I don’t have anything to give you.” 

Charles moved closer to him. Edwin was lounging at the desk and Charles carefully sat down on the corner, almost where he always used to greet their clients. 

“Edwin, honest, you give me so much. Just keep being you.” Edwin laughed and Charles only ached a little. The ball of wool glowed green.

He made origami plants and butterflies, stars and swans. They littered their windowsills and shelves. Their office never used to look this colourful. 

It had been a little over a month. Who was Charles kidding? He knew the exact time. One month, three days and five hours and Edwin’s supernatural cold had finally ended. There was nothing but pale skin to be seen. 

The moment Charles saw the last dot on Edwin’s cheek disappear, he leaped up and practically flew over to him, pulling him into his arms, chanting, “It’s gone, Edwin, it’s gone, it’s gone!” He pulled back and kissed the same spot where the last reminder of this nightmare had been. And then the other cheek. Edwin’s arms were tight like a vice around him, gripping the back of his shirt. 

“Charles…” He gasped softly, a man dying of thirst being offered a cup of water. Charles could relate. When he died, he had given up the need for air. Now, he just needed Edwin. 

Blinking back tears, Charles buried his face in Edwin’s chest. He couldn’t imagine letting Edwin go, in this decade or the next. Feeling the proof that he was really there - his Edwin was with him, Edwin wanted to be there with him - under his fingertips, it was like letting out a breath he had held for too long. 

But there was one thing left to do. Blindly, he felt after one of Edwin’s hands. It took a few tries and gentle shushing to pry Edwin’s fingers off of Charles, but eventually he pulled the hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it and linked their hands. 

“Shh, you’re alright mate, c’mon, love, it’s okay. Let’s just get over there, yeah? Easy, innit?” 

They ended up on the couch, Edwin’s face pressed into his neck. All semblance of composure had vanished long ago. They were both frayed at the seams, chests pried open to reveal their unbeating hearts, vulnerable and open to one another. 

Hastily, Charles went through the pockets of his jackets in search of his most important gift yet. His fingers closed around it.

“Edwin, hey? I got something for you.” He presented him with a little paper heart in blue and red. Charles had the front row seat to see Edwin’s eyes fill up with new tears all over again, joy flowing over his lovely face.

Edwin let go of Charles’ hand in favour of taking the heart into both of his reverently, careful as if he were handling a real one, and pressed it to his chest where his own heart was.

They leaned into each other, with Charles eventually ending up on top of Edwin, and he lazily played with Edwin’s short hair. The next time Charles kissed Edwin, it was softly on the lips. Both of them drifted to a not-quite-sleep with Charles’ lips pressed to Edwin’s forehead

With quarantine officially over, Niko and Crystal were allowed back in the agency. They hugged them tightly and Edwin didn’t even complain about how “a handshake would have sufficed, Crystal”. While Edwin was resting with his head in Charles’ lap, he and Niko took up their usual search for quizzes again. They came across another one of those talking about love languages. This time, his result was “Words of Affirmation”. When he fussed about how his results could’ve changed so quickly, Niko just giggled.

“Oh, but it’s not just black and white, you know,” she explained in her soft voice. “It’s never just one of them. Here, you can see your percentages.” She pointed at a few blue bars, the first one titled the same as his result with 74 percent, the second one, “Physical Touch”, just barely below with 71 percent. “And there’s also a difference of which direction the love language takes. It’s a two-way street. Love languages for how you love and for how you wish to be loved. And that changes constantly, and multiple can overlap. It’s interesting, isn’t it?” 

Niko smiled brightly and Charles was helpless to do anything but give her one of his own. 

“Which ones do you think Edwin has?” she mused. 

Charles grinned and ran his fingers through Edwin’s hair. “I think I have an idea or two.”

[miraclemaya]

Miss Maya,

Do you think that Sayo would ever be able to catch on to some of Chisato’s issues and adapt her behavior to make things easier for her? I feel like it’d probably be too big a task for her, but not impossible with enough time and help from others.

Regardless, what I really wanted to pick your brain on is Chisato’s reaction upon realizing that Sayo is being considerate and mindful around her. Or even that she’s doing it in a way that’s helping her change and grow.

Would the revelation that someone is changing her for the better scare her? Enrage her? How would the thought of her girlfriend seemingly walking on eggshells around her make her feel? It feels like it’d be a juicy moment where she recontextualizes a lot of Sayo’s actions.

Then again, I only know of these young ladies through your postings on their escapades, which is why I am eager to hear your thoughts.

Hello anon!

Sayo would definitely catch on yes. Much of my posting focuses on Chisato because I'm ill about her, but really I think even with just canon, Chisato and Sayo are more similar then they are different. Both are people hiding very particular feelings of inadequacy or meaninglessness behind their masks. Of course, Chisato's are more varied and complex, but that only works better because Sayo is an honest girl and I believethat would help her see past Chisato's walls a little bit. As for Maya headcanons, Sayo could, if not exactly know, be able to very accurately guess a lot of the particular feelings of predatoriness that basically subsume Chisato's being when it comes to sex and romance in my mind. And Sayo would 100% try to help her, even if they were just friends, I think. She's a kind and earnest girl.

As for how Chisato would react, well I think Chisato is deeply aware of how unhealthy a lot of her mindset is, but it's just not something she can let go of, or perhaps it's only in certain moments of lucidity that she can acknowledge how not good it is. Like, obviously Chisato is aware she's surrounded by a bunch of gay girls, that at least amongst her peer group it is a normal and accepted thing right? But she can't shake the constant need to perform a certain kind of cishetro femininity that has been her grounding point and also defense for so long but also has rubbed off onto what core self of her's there is. And then like other general, perhaps you could say BPD problems with relationships she'd have right, like Chisato has been an actress for a long time, and though part of her hatred of it stems from her ever constant need to wear and develop new masks one after another until whatever 'Chisato' is supposed to be is slowly lost, I think perhaps there are other parts of the job that she does not like. Like she's most certainly been treated as a sex object to some level for a while I feel like, I mean even just pastel pallettes has some bikini events I think, but certainly there is very little chance that this hasn't been the case before as well right like Chisato is used to being desired in a way that is purely objectifying, so she is probably aware that her reaction to a relationship that is not that would most certainly not be healthy. Like her, for example, getting upset when she perceives Sayo as not finding her attractive or mocking her apperance or something like that is sprung from her own ideas about her worth that have formed because of all this constant proping up as an object of beauty and dwsire that has been done to her, so like if Sayo isn't 100% attracted to her, it must be over because what else does Chisato have, she's barely even a real person. But she'd also be aware enough that she knows that this is an unhealthy thing for their relationship right, she knows she's overreacting but she can't help it as it were.

Would Chisato be upset if she realized Sayo was trying to help her? I don't think so, at least not like a normal type of upset. I think a part of her would be in disbelief that Sayo cares even that much about her, another part cursing herself for manipulating Sayo into trying to fix something that is unfixable, another part desperate to repay Sayo in some way for it, and another part that just genuinely loves Sayo even more because of her care. She would certainly be uspet by her ever constant revelation that she is, as you put it, making Sayo walk around on egg shells, which only unfortunately makes those eggshells more prominent. That's the thing, it's all feeding into itself and it's making it worse and better it's a complicated thing is what I'm getting at, their relationship I mean.

But it certainly is not hopeless. I need to get around to writing the ChisaSayo fic, but in my mind their relationship starts purely sexual, becomes romantic and they start dating, and then Sayo starts trying to rope Chisato into her hobbies. And I genuinely think that's probably one of the most important things she could do for Chisato, both because the reassurance it would offer of Sayo introducing her to all the different parts of her life and also because Chisato needs some hobbies, needs things outside of acting, to better differentiate her sense of self from her masks as it were. And I think she'd be very glad to do it by Sayo's side as well.

[actuallyitsstar]

bradley rooster bradshaw & 22, 12, 21? <3

✨ send me a number and a character! ✨

HENLO USER MARCHRAINDROPS!!!! ily and im so sorry for how long this took aaaaaaaaaaa but pls take my humble offering, and i hope that u enjoy my attempt at doing this ask justice lol <3 <3

(p.s. i did answer one of these for bradley here already, so click for another and more lighthearted headcanon lol)

22. something you like and dislike in reading for this character?

something that rly matters to me when it comes to bradley is, i guess for lack of a better word, his attitude. bradley has had, admittedly, his share of traumatizing experiences in life, and he was raised on eggshells and rose-petals, walking under the shadow of a grief too heavy for him to bear alone, watching the adults he knew and trusted be crushed slowly beneath it instead. he was a bright and happy child whose innocence was slowly stolen, piece by piece, building a sardonic and cynical adult. bradley was soft, and he still absolutely c an be, in the right setting and with the right people. but he's still a grown man, at least thirty-four-ish, who's been hardened by loss after loss after betrayal, who has gone through war and come home again. he can be sarcastic and self centered, closed-minded and demanding, vindictive and rageful. he's brash and quick to speak, fierce in spirit but measured, too; aware of the pitfalls behind life's every corner and terrified of stepping on another; this time, completely alone. he hesitates and he meets the consequences of his indecision, and he takes that blame out on others.

i guess i like to see bradley's roughest edges acknowledged. he has been hurt, and he will hurt other people. he's not exactly a white knight of most situations (except for when he is- sacrificing himself for phoenix in training comes to mind; it is all about nuance isn't it?). i think it's easy to paint those kinds of flaws out of the picture, and i can understand why we might want to- because after all, no one wants to think about their favorite character being the "bad guy" in a situation. but everyone is, sometimes.

i guess what i don't like is seeing bradley treated with kidd gloves. realistically, bradley was spoiled as a kid, and why wouldn't he have been? the hope of a family grieving the loss of its pillar (goose), and that's a lot of weight for a little kid to carry. they'd doted on him, and put all their efforts into giving him the happiest childhood they could muster in the face of that loss, and maybe they were quick to give in to demands- maybe they were quick to take the situations upsetting young bradley away from him instead of teaching him how to cope with them. i'm not sure if, for all of their love and devotion, the adults in bradley's life would have known how to teach him to cope with a situation healthfully, anyway.

12. what's a headcanon you have for this character?

bradley has goose's old cross necklace, and it's one of his most prized possessions.

when bradley was little, he was 100% a mama's boy. after all, for all that mav was there, which was always as much as he could be but no more than the tight grip of the navy on his collar would allow- it was just bradley and carole against the world, together, for most of it. he talked to his mom about everything, trusted her with everything, and he took her illness so incredibly hard. obviously- that's his mom, after all- but even more than he showed, at the time. he'd tried to be strong, for his mom and for mav and because he's not sure he remembers anymore, but he thinks it's what his dad would have wanted, too; for him to take care of mom. he tries, but doesn't end up remembering how to take care of himself at the same time.

the wedge that separates bradley from the world and everything good in it is the same one that splits carole off from her family and leaves them alone without her. as her illness worsens, bradley becomes more and more sullen and withdrawn and angry, with the world and the lot handed to him. he savors each moment he has left with her but grows to dread hospital visiting hours, too, because it gets harder and harder to remember her as she was with each hour he spends watching her waste away. the breaking point is when he's thirteen years old, and they know carole has a few months more, at best. bradley isn't supposed to know yet- but he isn't stupid. he can overhear parts of a hushed phone call, and see the worry lines around uncle mav's eyes when he tries to offer reassurances that bradley doesn't believe in anymore.

she calls him in for visiting hours alone, telling uncle ice to take uncle mav home and make him take a shower and go to bed. mav protests profusely, but a look of understanding passes between ice and carole over the heads of everyone else in the room, and everyone but bradley is subsequently herded out. bradley settles himself on the edge of her bed, feeling awkward with the presence of the dreaded ticking time between them. despite her gauntness and exhaustion, though, she offers him her brightest smile. i have something to give you, baby, she tells him, and then it's dangling from her fingers before he has time to realize it fully- a silver cross necklace. his dad's necklace.

i've was meanin' to give this to you, when you're all grown up, she says quietly, and bradley swallows hard, drawing in a shaky inhale. but i just couldn't wait any longer. your daddy would be so proud of you, honey. and bradley knows it means she loves him and that daddy does too, but he also knows it means that his mom is saying goodbye. when uncle mav sees him wearing it later that evening, his small hand tightened around the metal so firmly that it digs into his skin, his uncle's face blanches, but mav doesn't say a word about it. bradley doesn't either. when everything falls apart between them much later, bradley tries to assign meaning that isn't there, telling himself that maybe mav had wanted that necklace to keep selfishly to himself, or that maybe mav hadn't thought he'd deserved it. it's not until much, much later that he manages to reason out the much simpler truth of the moment; of the guilt and the exhaustion and the realization that his all-but-sister knew she didn't have much longer if she'd finally passed the necklace down.

during the long years of his twenties and early thirties, bradley clings to the necklace, convinced it holds the parts of his past that he's missing, the feeling of belonging he's craved and cannot seem to find. the weight of it against his breastbone, beneath his uniforms, is half-comfort and half-terror. he doesn't explain it to anyone, not even to phoenix. i didn't know you were spiritual, she tells him upon catching a glimpse of it in the gym. bradley is hasty to shove it back inside his shirt collar. i'm not, he growls back, and that's that. she doesn't ask again. he doesn't volunteer. just like the look mav had worn upon seeing the necklace, it isn't until much, much later that bradley figures out what he'd been missing, after the mission and after the reconciling and after everything- til he figures out that maybe the necklace means something to him because it had meant something to mom and to dad and to mav, and that maybe he doesn't have to drag the ghosts and spirit of all three of those people into the cockpit with him each time he goes up into the air. maybe knowing they had loved him all along is enough. he tells himself that this is what the cool metal against his skin reminds him of, now, and for the most part, he finds that he can learn to believe it.

21: something you like and dislike in writing for this character?

i think it's sort of rare to be in a fandom where you have this primary character and you know so much about the things that built that character. i mean, not the most rare- obviously there's a lot of stories and franchises out there that focus on lineage and talk about long-spanning over-arcing stories. but to get to know carole and to get to know goose and to get to know mav and the other flyboys too; depending on your opinion of the closeness of the group after the first movie (i guess we all know MY found-family-obsessed-ass's opinion on that lol <3) is a gift that builds a picture of bradley, and unpacking it and piecing it together is one of my favorite privileges in writing him! feeling like i know the people who shaped bradley means i feel like i know bradley so much more, too. there's so much focus, especially in tgm, on history and mirroring and repetition and the weight of years and the passage of time, and of course there needs to be, for a sequel made so long after the original- because it is all built on the power of nostalgia- but it also says something about the construction of a character like bradley, doesn't it?

that being said, i do spend a lot of time trying to strike the balance, because i think there can be too much mirroring and a little too much drawing from influence. the double edged sword is allowing bradley to be a separate and independent person who is shaped by and not defined by those things. i think it's very easy (or at least for my sentimental ass it is lol) to get a little TOO wrapped up in the ~nostalgia~ and the trying to weave a 30+ year narrative into one character's image, and i do have to remind myself to avoid letting that walk all over the actual characters i am actually presently writing.

@marchraindrops AHHHHHHHHHH again i am so so sorry this took so long but i thank u so so much for thinking of me and sending the lovely ask, i had a lot of fun answering ;) and i am always thrilled to type my silly little answers lol. i promise to always answer even if it takes like.... more than a hot minute lol <3 TY AND ILY!!!! <3<3<3

[ghost-of-the-machine]

whatever its my vent i need to use it to vent or else this shit is gonna rip me apart like a tornado, its already begun

i dont think anyone will see this, i sure hope not! if you do, no you didnt. just ignore me for now, ill live

im scared. its that same thing, fear thats like an old friend at this point. hi! nice to see you again, take a seat lets do this again i guess. scared, i see things that arent there. little things, seemingly nothing, but its. i spend too much time trying to look into things and read abandonment before it happens, i know that. reading into things looking for abandonment and rejection will yield those results. i KNOW this. but i keep doing it.

small, it starts off small. 95% , im alright! anything i see, i just shake off. am i actually seeing it? or do i just think i see it? its simple... and then it starts to dwindle the more i see. okay.. well. this still doesnt mean anything! control yrself, its alright, you are safe, and you are loved.. right? no, of course i am! of course... time passes, things pile up, below half its not looking good! just. keep it together. youve been doing so good, havent you? youve been such a non issue for them! good. keep it that way. calms for a bit, but. how else do i phrase this? when i keep losing skill checks over and over and over again, you must understand! of course it just gets worse, im just not.. good at this.

im losing my charm, im getting dull, im grey and boring im.. annoying, probably. yes.. dreadful, arent you? YAWN. okay

its like.. ive been reassured so many times, i usually just reply that information over and over when i start to feel myself crack, but.. eventually, it goes quiet. im using old words to reassure myself, what if.. what if somethings changed? what if its not true anymore?

do i REALLY wanna get into how pathetic i am? sure why not, i said i love you a few times and it was overlooked. both ways. i cant blame them though, i probably say it too much, thats what i mean by annoying. maybe.. its so glaringly obvious how much i want to be here, maybe its genuinely obnoxious? maybe they just didnt notice, maybe they meant to but forgot! or maybe. its not true anymore. maybe they say it with contempt, maybe they say it with a sigh. that sounds right, doesnt it?

is it real? i have no idea! genuinely. im blinded here, i see whats real and what isnt, which means i see nothing at all basically. the worst part about it? i dont believe theyre those kind of people, not even a little bit! i just.. get scared that maybe ill bring it out of them, maybe its ME thats the problem, that wears them down, yknow?

this has been growing for like. more than a month at this point. slowly just.. chipping away, breaking down my armor. ive always been temporary in the past. even when im so excited to keep going, so excited to explore this path and enjoy it, i cant lie and say that fear wont rear its head eventually. eventually im going to be afraid again, afraid of little things. small. but you cant just say "hey! any tiny thing you do regarding me, i will see it and read into it and probably take it wrong" cuz thats not right!! even if its TRUE that doesnt make it right. no bpd walking on eggshells please 🙏🙏 please.

it always feels awful to be doing like really well! and then it just starts... sinking. you feel yrself sinking, you feel the flooring underneath yr feet start to lower, but you stare up into the sky anyways, its okay for now! its slowly becoming not okay. im scared im just..

i have a hard time going long without positive reinforcement or reassurance that im still. WANTED. that im doing anything right at all. i just need a little!! just a little, and itll go a long way i promise! i start to retreat back into my shell, i start regarding myself as a visitor and not a resident. ill stay away, ill become distant and nervous, less sure of myself, etc. scared, treading lightly so to speak. like the smallest thing will ruin it, its fragile and i need to take great care and make sure i dont shatter this. thats how im feeling again recently. its really just a me problem, this feeling grows over time and im so painfully aware of it

but.. thats where the problem arises, i couldnt ever ask for it. cuz.. if you deserved it, dont you think they wouldve given it to you? then theres some sort of separation, theres an answer. if they wont say they feel it, its because they dont. how embarrassing is that? i know its not true, theres probably another answer, but... what if it is? ive been doing so terrible recently, like as a friend im not doing good at all. i havent been, ive been trying but. im not trying hard enough, i need to do more. but if i do more, then i seem desperate dont i? i am desperate, even if i dont like to admit it, its true

what do i do then? if yr desperate and they dont like it, it reinforces to them why they shouldnt like you and yr worse off then before you asked! but if you never ask...

why does it always boil down to this? the 'damned if i do, damned if i dont' thing? its constant, im literally frozen in place. its killing me one way or another. and its so fucking weird how i can be fully confident, cuz it never bothers me when someone asks for help or reassurance, im here! bitch of course yr there!!! you cant live without them, ofc you do shit like that!! that doesnt mean itll be returned to you. you can hope it will be, but.. what if you try and its not? then its basically set in stone, you arent good enough anymore. yeowch!

[chiisana-lion]

wow i love being the middle child (frothing at the mouth w the urge to tear something apart

[aubergineranger]

finally snaped at my brother for once in my life and now i remembered why i never did in the first place. this fucking goblin just laughed at me and kept smiling and acting like i was such a weirdo and drama queen for getting upset - ive never felt so humiliated in my life lol this man has litteraly minus zero respect for me why do i even try???? He keps infantalising me, never respects my opinions always makes me feel like an idiot i am so sick of it

worse is if i say anything im the annyoing freak who gets upset at nothing!! And i keep 'making a victim of myself' even if i dont say anything im in the wrong because im a wimp who cant express herself clearly and is unable to have an adult conversation. like bitch quit acting like youre more of the adult when im the one who makes you food everyday and wash your dirty underwear!!

but then when i say that then he just says 'oh i never asked for that' like im just being nice and filial! all im asking in return is for a bit of thankfulness and an ounce of respect and consideration but thats too fucking hard for you

[makeste]

A theory I have seen is that Fuyumi wants the family back so desperately, because she and Toya experienced the better Endeavor, where everything was alright. My guess is that after his decent into abuse its stopped being like a normal family and Natsuo and Shoto never experienced a normal family. But that is just a therory

okay so speaking as someone who grew up with an abusive and neglectful parent (though in my case it was my mom rather than my dad)... it’s complicated. there are a lot of emotions there. I think one of the things Horikoshi has really excelled at with the whole Todoroki plot is the way that he’s used the four siblings to show the different ways that children respond to parental abuse. and I can say from personal experience that all of them are valid. not just the bitterness, anger, and resentment that Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto have all shown at times, but also that intense (but tentative, almost wishful-thinking) longing to just have a normal family that we see from Fuyumi. speaking again from experience, that last one isn’t an outlier at all. in fact, in my case, I’d say that was honestly the strongest feeling out of all of them, and it even fueled a lot of the other three emotions. btw just a heads up I’m gonna delve into some personal stuff here briefly, so yeah. I won’t put details, but if anyone wants an abuse trigger warning added to the post or anything like that, just let me know.

so the thing is, even during my angriest times, if some magic wish-granting genie had poofed in and told the child me, “’sup, I’m here to solve all of your family problems, just tell me what you want me to do,” I wouldn’t have wanted them to take my mom away and lock her up somewhere and make her suffer or anything like that. honestly, even during the worst of it, the thing I wanted more than anything else was just to have a normal family. my mom had a lot of untreated mental health issues, and it was basically a situation where you never knew which version of her you were going to get on any given day. so there were times when she was a kind and loving mother who took care of me and my siblings. and there were a great many more times when she was temperamental and erratic, and we all (my dad included) basically just walked on eggshells around her and did our best to lay low and try not to bother her because even little things might set her off, and we never knew how she was going to react. and my dad worked a lot, and my sibs and I were homeschooled for reasons which I’m not gonna get into because this post is already veering off on too many tangents, but anyway so the short of it is that my sibs and I grew up in this unstable environment and ended up more or less raising ourselves. and I resented my mom a lot for that, growing up, and I still do honestly.

now a lot’s happened since then, and she’s gotten some help, and my siblings and I are all adults now and we’re more or less good, even though we all took a certain amount of Psychic Damage along the way and we’re each still dealing with that. and we each have different relationships with our mom now, and a couple of my sibs are even fairly close to her. but for my part, I pretty much have no relationship with her at all outside of seeing her a few times a year at family get-togethers and the like. the thing is, even though my mom did eventually (after a LOT of false starts and struggles and heartache) get some help, she’s never really shown remorse for what my siblings and I went through because of her. she’s never taken responsibility for any of it. she blames a lot of other people, and will go on long rants about all of the terrible things that have happened to her and all of the horrible ways people have treated her (some of which is true, and some of which very much is not). but there’s never even the slightest acknowledgement of any of the things she herself has done to hurt others. she either passes the blame or just pretends it never happened. 

and honestly, it sucks. even now, there’s little to no real desire to change on her part. she’s gotten therapy and meds now, and so emotionally she’s much more stable than when we were kids, but one of the unfortunate results is that it’s all the more clear now that a lot of her behavior never had anything to do with her mental illness at all. she just didn’t care at all about how she was hurting others; or at the very least, didn’t care to face it. and that’s just how it is.

anyway, so I’m sorry to keep breaking away and telling you guys my own life story lol. but the point I’m trying to get at here is that I actually relate to Fuyumi so much, though. what I wanted more than anything was for my mom to care, and to say she was sorry, and for me to be able to believe that and to trust her, and for her to actually change. that was it.

and so for me, here’s the biggest difference between the Endeavor situation, and my own and so many others. the difference is that unlike people in real life, we know Endeavor is actually remorseful for what he’s done. we know it for certain because we’ve seen it for ourselves, from his own point of view. the manga actually lets us get inside his head and shows us that he really is sincere, that he really is sorry, and that he really is trying to change. and that’s something that’s impossible to get in real life. that certainty that the person really means it, that they’re genuinely remorseful and committed to making amends.

and for me, that’s fucking wish fulfillment right there. for the abusive parent to finally realize the error of their ways and be sorry and try to do right by their kids. I fucking wanted that. hell, I still want it, even though I’ve made my peace with things the way that they are. that chance to somehow heal the broken relationship, and have your parent genuinely try their best to be a real parent to you, even if it’s years after the fact? shit. I’d take that in a heartbeat.

and so when it comes to Fuyumi and her attempts to get her family to reconcile and experience a few normal things, I f feel that. I really do. because when you’re growing up in that type of situation, normal is all that you want. and I don’t think it’s anything that requires an explanation on her part, because it’s not actually an unusual reaction at all. it’s natural. it’s the most natural thing in the world. honestly it’s annoying that fandom sometimes tries to shame her for having those feelings. like honestly, fuck that. because the thing is, I’d wager that almost every kid who grew up with an abusive parent has at some time or other felt the exact same way.

and that includes Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto as well. literally the only difference between them and Fuyumi is that they feel that Endeavor’s change of heart is simply coming too late. it’s not that they don’t want their family back, just like she does; it’s that from their point of view, it’s something they can’t get back. for Fuyumi, that dream of having a normal family is something she’s still seeking. for Natsuo and Touya, that dream of having a normal family is something that was destroyed. something that Endeavor killed. something they’re in mourning of. and so Touya wants revenge for it, and Natsuo is trying to pick himself up and move past it. and meanwhile Shouto is caught somewhere in the middle of all of those reactions, because he’s still trying to decide whether or not he can ever bring himself to trust his father again. he’s somewhere in between his brothers’ mourning and his sister’s hopefulness. sort of a Schrodinger type of deal lol.

but anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that all four siblings are really experiencing the same thing, just in different ways. Fuyu may be the one arranging family dinners and the like, but that same longing to be part of a normal family is at the core of Natsuo, Shouto, and even Touya’s behavior as well. Natsuo’s hurt and resentment, and Touya’s spite and bitterness, come from being denied the thing they want. and Fuyu’s shaky attempts at reconciliation come from her desire to still obtain it somehow. but at the end of the day they’re the exact same feelings. and they all come from the same place.

anyways, hopefully that makes some kind of sense. basically, everyone is valid. Fuyu is valid, Natsu and Shouto are valid, and Touya is murdery which isn’t cool, but his feelings are still valid too nonetheless. hugs and therapy for the Todoroki children in 2021, Horikoshi. please and thank you.

[astrologypersonalityandcartoons]

(Writer's Note:A little late)

262. We're Not That Gullible!

We all are exactly the same

The human race

That's what you claim

With a big bright smile on your face

So what about the wage gap

That exists for everyone but you

"Walking on eggshells" we fall in your trap

But how and who else will you screw

What about the butts of your joke

You know the disabled ones

While we starve, die, or go broke

Hey you get more funds

Queers killed over bad news lines

Hay look at these quirky gender finds

Trans people can't find decent care

But, you'd rather gawk or stare

I care about blacks that's what you say

But less teaching about slavery, ok

"We know our country's past"

Let's hope it kicks you in the ass

Supremacists, having field days here

And Shout it loud for all to hear

"It's just my opinion" you think smug

Quiet you miniscule bug

We will no longer be under your boot

Everyone gets a seat even if you scoot

If you think We're done

Guess Again, We're not going to run

246. "Damaged"

Who's more "damaged"

Who can we blame

I'm surprised we haven't managed

To already throw shame 

Whos more broken

Can they see

I'm a little more soft spoken

Than some may be

Who's mentally ill

Who's taking a pill

Who's autstic or mentally disabled

Who can be labeled

Things are better they say

Things are better now

We know a better way

Really?  Cool and wow.

I hope things have changed

I desperately hope

That has been arranged

Because it's a slippery slope

[a-vamp-and-a-half]

"Well it's more I want to get to know them again. I mean I know who they are but now that I know there is this other side to everyone I want to know everything. I just want to understand so I don't have to worry about walking on eggshells around them when it comes to certain things. Like Doc for instance, you mentioned his illness before but now that I know all this and from some of the comments when I was healing, I'm guessing that is also related to him being a vampire"

"... Doc is... not one to speak to about what it's like being a vampire. When I say illness..."

"Illness of the mind, unfortunately. He's convinced himself that I had never been his friend, and that I had aimed to curse him. His illness comes from some kind of... inability to adjust. He starves himself and is convinced everyone else is out to ruin him, somehow. Doesn't trust anyone, not myself or Bing or even Wilford who you know is incapable of devious plotting due to his own mental struggles."

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

CW: mentions of PTSD, mentions of alcoholism and past abuse, mentions of past toxic relationship

Taglist @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon

The thick fog that hovered above the ground made the forest seem like the scenery out of a gothic movie. Not that Alastair minded, he felt at home among the trees, in the darkness. He and Thomas had met after breakfast before Lucie or Cordelia had woken. Alastair had always been an early riser and he was glad to see Thomas was too. More than that, though, Alastair was a poor sleeper. He had frequent nightmares and so far he’d found nothing that helped. Not even his stuffed hedgehog, which he was ashamed to admit he still slept with.

‘Look. Over there,’ Thomas pointed, his finger aimed at the ground.

Alastair followed his gaze and saw a small hedgehog, walking along the shrubs. Hedgehogs were nocturnal creatures, he knew, it wasn’t common to see them during the day, even in early morning. It was adorable.

‘Aw. I love hedgehogs, they are my favorite animals,’ Alastair said with a small smile that was rare these days.

‘They suit you,’ Thomas agreed.

‘How exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, you’re prickly and need to be handled with care or you’ll sting, but when you can look past that you’re actually adorable.’

Thomas’ cheeks flushed a dark red. ‘What I mean is,’ he began, but Alastair interrupted him with a grin.

‘Adorable, huh?’ he said.

‘I guess so,’ Thomas said. ‘Cordelia told me you still sleep with your stuffed animals. She said your favorite is a hedgehog.’

‘Little traitor,’ Alastair said.

‘I sleep with mine too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have several owls. I just sleep more comfortable that way. I need something to hold on to.’

He was surprised Thomas didn’t judge him. He felt his father would have, had he known, but he’d been too drunk to notice.

Alastair’s smile returned. ‘Now that is adorable. To tell you the truth, I keep mine around to protect me from nightmares.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Does that work?’

‘Not really. But at least holding onto something helps me relax enough to fall asleep.’

He could lie awake at night sometimes. Lately, Alastair was always tired. He did what was expected of him during the day, but he never felt rested or energetic. Even after a long night sleep with minimal nightmares, he woke tired and staying in bed didn’t help.

They talked about all sorts of topics, history, books they read, what Alastair’s first year at university had been like. Thomas told him about previous summers, which they’d usually spent in Spain. He’d spent enough time there to be fluent in Spanish now, partially because his parents had studied there and his father liked to speak Spanish at home. Alastair was surprised how easy conversing with Thomas was. He’d always struggled with making small talk, with keeping the conversation going, but Thomas didn’t shy away from more serious topics and seemed genuinely interested in what Alastair had to say.

He and Thomas continued their walk, and Alastair could tell something was bothering Thomas. He was tense, his shoulders a bit hunched. Alastair had learnt to sense when people were anxious or tense and tended to get nervous himself whenever that happened. He wondered if he’d always been hypersensitive to other people’s moods, or if he’d learnt after having to anticipate his father’s moods and then Charles’ for such a long time. He narrated a description of his surroundings to himself in an attempt to ground him in reality, to calm down enough that he could help and support Thomas. He felt useless, what was the point in being able to read people if their anxiety bothered him so much?

‘Are you alright?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Why do you ask?’ Thomas asked, his voice uneven.

‘Because you seem anxious about something. Is it about me? Are you still mad about what happened at school?’

Alastair had always been more tolerant around Thomas himself, but he’d treated Thomas’ friends awfully. All he felt right now was a horrible guilt and regret for what he’d done. For how he’d justified his actions, telling himself that it was better than being bullied, that what he did wasn’t as bad as what other students had done to him. All empty excuses, and it had never been alright.

‘It’s not about you,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand why you did it, but I know you were going through some difficult times. Besides, it happened so long ago. James and Matthew are still upset, I think. But they’re not here. I don’t think Matthew would like it much here anyway. He prefers to spend his holidays shopping and drinking at bars until late night.’

Alastair tensed a bit when Thomas’ mentioned Matthew’s drinking the way he always did when alcohol was mentioned. Once he’d been able to take care of his drunk father with little emotion, pushing everything to the bottom until he was sure his father was alright and Cordelia wouldn’t discover he wasn’t ill. Nowadays even mentions of alcohol or drinking tended to make him feel sick, as if an invisible hand was clutching at his stomach, at his heart. Just breathe, he told himself.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not supposed to mention alcohol around you, am I?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I take it everyone knows, then?’

Alastair still found it difficult when people knew about his disorder. It was difficult to ask for adjustments, to admit a weakness and ask people to not drink in his presence, to ask people to change their own behavior for his sake. He knew most people wouldn’t be willing to do that, and he’d much rather not ask and pretend everything was fine. But eventually he’d had to admit to himself he just couldn’t handle being around people drinking and alcohol was so normalized in Britain it was difficult to avoid sometimes.

‘Not the particulars,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But Mr. Herondale warned us that we shouldn’t drink, nor discuss alcohol when you’re there.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair said. ‘As long as I don’t see you drink, or smell it on you, it’s fine.’

People talking about alcohol could be difficult, but he could manage. He would. Matthew Fairchild was across the sea, and him drinking alcohol didn’t harm Alastair. It wasn’t his problem.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘It’s not easy, but it’s alright. I can handle mentions of drinking,’ Alastair said.

He hated how some people who knew about his diagnosis had started to walk on eggshells around him, like he was a bomb that would explode the moment someone said something wrong. It made him feel like he was fragile, broken, like there was something horribly wrong with him, when Alastair desperately tried to convince himself that wasn’t true. Deep down, he knew it was true though. He knew there was something wrong with him and that he wasn’t normal and would never be.

‘You don’t have to,’ Thomas said. ‘Look, I don’t think you want to talk about it and you don’t have to. But if you want to talk… I’m here for you, alright? I can promise I am a good listener.’

Alastair nodded. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you,’ he said in an attempt to deflect.

Alastair took a sip out of the flask of water he’d taken to carrying with him. Ever since starting paroxetine, he often had a dry mouth. He’d also gained some weight. Risa in particular was very happy with that development. Before starting his medication he’d been underweight, often unable to eat because of his nerves. Aunt Risa had worried about his weight loss, and had been very happy when he had started eating again and gotten back at a normal weight.

Apart from that no side effects, and Alastair was mostly glad his medication didn’t cause any sexual dysfunction because he’d heard that happened sometimes. Even if he didn’t have a boyfriend now, he guessed he wanted one someday. He tried to ignore the voice in his head, reminding him that no one would want to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t worth the effort. Charles had often told him he was difficult to love, that other people wouldn’t bother, and Alastair had believed him. Part of him still did.

The effect taking antidepressants had was only partial, paroxetine on its own wasn’t enough to treat PTSD, but when it came to this specific disorder it was the most effective out of all antidepressants. Alastair had agreed to give it a try. Two months in, it was definitely better than nothing and he had more good days, but he hoped the EMDR treatment he would be starting after the summer was more effective.

‘It’s something that happened yesterday,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can trust me to keep your secret,’ Alastair promised. ‘But you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

‘You know your cousin Jem used to fight the evil creatures of the supernatural, right?’ Thomas asked. ‘And your father too, before…’

Before he’d started drinking. People who knew about his father’s past as a hero sometimes said it was the price he’d had to pay, for seeing so many horrors and fighting for so long. Alastair hated it, it made him want to scream. What about the price I had to pay?

It was what had set him off when Jem had come over for dinner, not aware that anything was wrong with him. His cousin had talked about the struggles of life as a hero, the effects it could have on someone. Later, Alastair had learned his mother had become so desperate she’d confessed Elias’ addiction to Jem and had asked him if he could convince him to seek treatment.

Jem had agreed, and had used Elias’ past heroism as a gentle way to bring up the problem, but Alastair had felt as if Jem was trying to justify his father’s addiction and by extension what he’d put his family through. He’d screamed at Jem, at his father, at everyone present really. What about the people surrounding such a person? What about the people who were hurt when a hero’s burden became too much, did they not matter? Horrified at his own outburst, Alastair had ran to his room and attempted to calm himself by putting on Metallica and turning up the volume until he could block everything else out. When Jem had come upstairs, Alastair had expected him to be angry. Instead, Jem had been worried. It was the first time someone had realized his moodiness wasn’t just a “turbulent adolescence”, as his parents had long thought.

‘Yes,’ Alastair said. ‘When I was younger, my father would tell me stories about the creatures he’d fought and defeated.’

Once he’d loved listening to his father’s stories. Once he had sat down in his father’s lap and asked him to tell him about the incubus in Greece, or the kelpie in Scotland. Now he only wondered if his father had been drinking already back then. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten out of hand.

‘Well, I can see them. What I mean is, I have gift that makes it so I can see anything without having to learn at all. My mother and my oldest sister Barbara have the same gift.’

Alastair nodded. ‘So does my aunt Risa,’ he said. ‘She taught me and Cordelia how to see.’

There had been times in his life where he’d felt like Risa was the only person who cared about him. He hadn’t dared tell her about his father’s alcoholism, desperate to keep his family together and in one piece, but she’d been there when he needed her. No one else had done that for him. She used to take him to see the gnomes play in parks, since she didn’t have a garden of her own. She used to cook and bake in her kitchen with him. Risa was a cook in a local Iranian restaurant and had taught him everything she knew about making good food.

‘Yesterday, I walked into the woods and I encountered the washing woman. They say seeing her is an omen of death, although in my case it could just be that she didn’t intend for me to see her, but with my gift I see her anyway.’

‘I’ve heard of such creatures,’ Alastair said. ‘You must not approach or they might attack and paralyze your legs. But if you can sneak up on them, they are said to grant a wish.’

Alastair thought not so long ago he would have given it a try if he’d seen such a woman. He might have asked her to fix his family, or at least fix his father’s alcoholism. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure what he’d ask for. Fixing his father’s alcoholism wouldn’t cure his PTSD, it wouldn’t allow him to love or trust his father again, wouldn’t erase the past years. Perhaps he would ask for a cure for his PTSD, but he didn’t think such a thing existed, he wasn’t sure what exactly the result of such a wish would be. Nor did he know who his father would be without his addiction. He did not think his father would love him sober either. The best he could hope for was that EMDR treatment would help him.

‘Well, I ran,’ Thomas said. ‘But not before it called out to me. Warning me about some unpaid debt from my grandfather who made all sorts of deals with dangerous creatures.’

Alastair had heard plenty of stories like that from his father. There were all kinds of creatures that generally left humanity alone, but could trick people into making deals with them. It usually ended badly, and sometimes required intervention.

Alastair tried to think, was Thomas in danger? He’d always known about the supernatural, of course, but preferred to stay away from it. Cordelia was the one who had been given their father’s magical sword, and although Alastair hated the idea of her living the kind of life Father used to live, it suited her more than it suited Alastair.

‘From what I learnt, deals with supernatural entities often go wrong,’ Alastair said. ‘Is your grandfather still alive?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I never knew him. Apparently he turned into a giant worm and uncle Will, uncle Jem and uncle Gabriel had to kill him. My parents are trying to look into it a bit more, but it’s difficult since my aunt has all his journals, his possessions, and isn’t willing to share. According to my father, his mother died as a result of his dealings, and my cousin Jesse might have too.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to think. He had heard some vague stories of the Lightwoods and Herondales who used to fight dangerous creatures, but had no idea a relative had made such deals. Of course, he didn’t think his father had been involved in this. His cousin Jem had carried cortana for one of two years before retiring and giving it back to Elias.

‘I think something might be after me,’ Thomas added. ‘I was often sick as a child, and so was Jesse. No one could figure out what was wrong with me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t remember you being sick often when we went to the same school. You were always there, trailing behind me, I would have noticed if you were absent often.’

‘I grew over my sickness when I was almost fourteen, we met soon after that,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of took it for granted, since no one could tell me what was wrong with me I figured it was normal I’d grow over it eventually. But I got better around the same time Jesse died, and then my aunt Tatiana, Jesse’s mother, came by our house and yelled at my parents that it should have been me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘And you think that means that your cousin dying had to do with your grandfather’s debt?’

‘My aunt believed it, at least.’

‘But what does that have to do with you getting better?’ Alastair asked, not sure if he could make sense of that theory.

‘Well, both Jesse and I were sick. I didn’t know him well, Tatiana kept him away from us, but he did know Lucie and she told me his symptoms were almost exactly the same as mine.’

‘And it’s not a genetic disorder?’ Alastair asked.

‘No one else in the family was sick, just me and Jesse,’ Thomas continued. ‘I got tested for pretty much everything they could think of, all negative. They couldn’t find out what was wrong with Jesse either. My grandmother already died as payment for what my grandfather did. So it’s not that farfetched that Benedict owed them a grandchild or something and they had to choose between me and Jesse. Except Jesse’s death wasn’t enough, and now some creature came to warn me I’m next.’ Thomas looked resigned. ‘I think I’m going to die.’

Alastair took Thomas’ hand, hoping that would not be too forward. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he said. ‘I have never heard of debts being passed on to next generations, or going on for so long. From what I’ve been told, it usually ends when the person who made the deal dies.’

‘Not in this case,’ Thomas said. ‘Jesse got lost in the woods where he lived and died. People searched, but no one could find him until he was already dead.’

Alastair could tell Thomas was getting more and more anxious and Alastair wasn’t sure how to help him. He couldn’t say for sure that was Thomas was saying was wrong, even if he still tried to think of more mundane explanations for what was happening.

‘But getting lost in the woods is not supernatural, is it? If we strayed off the path here, it could be a while until we found our way out.’

‘Yes, but the woods where he got lost weren’t big like here. Realistically, they should have found him much sooner. That’s weird, unless there was magic involved. It wasn’t particularly cold either, it happened during spring.’

Alastair had to admit that was odd. Not all forests were big enough to get lost in and die. Even here, he suspected if they didn’t make it back, people would raise alarm soon enough and find them long before they could die of natural causes. Of course, their chances of surviving a couple of days might be better than those of a twelve year old boy.

‘Could the entity that claimed Jesse’s life have picked him over you because you have the sight?’ Alastair speculated. ‘That’s something you inherited from your mother, isn’t it? Jesse didn’t have that.’

‘It is,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘No one in my father’s family has it. It feels kind of awful, doesn’t it? That I lived and got better because Jesse died?’

‘That’s just speculation,’ Alastair said sharply. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over things we can’t prove. But there is something we could do to gather more information.’

‘Beyond convincing my aunt to give us those journals?’ Thomas asked.

‘So, I haven’t done this with someone else in a very long time. Perhaps it’s best I show you.’

Alastair chose a neutral memory. He had considered a happy one, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable sharing any of that with Thomas, not yet. Besides, he didn’t have many happy memories. It had to be nice, with his ability, to have infinite happy memories he could revisit at any time. Instead, Alastair mainly got caught in the bad ones. He picked a memory from a lecture on the history of socialism. Alastair remembered being horrified at some of the comments other students had made, only later had he realized Charles probably agreed with them. But that wasn’t the point right now. Instead, he showed Thomas a bit of the start of the lecture. The professor was animated, talking about the subject like it was the most interesting thing ever.

‘Was this at university?’ Thomas asked when they were back in the woods. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I showed you a memory of mine. Not a particularly interesting one, but it gets the point across. I can revisit any of my memories.’

‘That must make it easy to study for exams,’ Thomas said, but it wasn’t accusatory. Alastair sometimes felt like using his ability was cheating, but what was the point of having a magic memory if you didn’t even use it?

‘I do need to remember where the information I need is. So if I don’t remember the answer to an exam question, but do remember which lecture it was discussed, or which book, I can go back there. Fortunately, I am also good at studying and usually know where to look.’

Alastair had a whole library inside his head. At home, he kept a list of every book he ever read to organize it.

‘But how will that help?’ Thomas asked. ‘Is there anything you remember?’

Alastair’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘No, not related to what’s happening to you. But you have your memories. Perhaps your parents remember things, details they didn’t think were important at the time. I can help you rewatch your own memories, help you recall things you might have forgotten. It is something that I do not usually do, as it feels rather invasive. But if it helps save your life, I’m willing to give it a try.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, of course. You can look in my memories all you like if that’ll save me.’

[fairycosmos]

don't have to answer but may i ask how's ur mom doing? i think u mentioned some time ago about her health and how she stayed at the hospital overnight or something? also if u wanted to share, how do u get along w her? i ask bc my relationship w mine has always been bad but since losing my brother it's way worse bc i have to walk on eggshells to protect her but like, i'm the child and nobody protects me? idk maybe u can relate

shes been in hospital again overnight but right now she's out so at least that's something, i guess she's doing better physically than she is mentally. which is understandable after losing her kid, but i don't really know what to say to her about that if i'm honest. our relationship is a bit weird. not hostile all the time, but kind of tense and distant. and it's not based on anything substantial. she is like a child in a lot of ways, i think mostly due to mental illness, and me and my sister have always known that but now that its just me i have no clue how to handle it. and like you, i spend a lot of my time just reassuring her that our childhood didn't cause my sister's death and that she's not the worst parent in the world. andd she isn't btw, by any means, but she doesn't know me at all. and i think some people just aren't meant to be mothers. i think she's commendable and strong at the same time in a lot of ways, though. and she does love me and my sister, its very clear she always has, but yeah it's just really difficult. it's complicated. i hold a lot of resentment as well, i can relate so so much. so so sorry about your brother, i'm still keeping you both in my heart and thoughts. i really wouldn't wish this on anyone, the pain is just too much and nobody around me cares. it's a lot. sending you so much love x

[curiousscientistkae]

im going to get on a soap box a bit lol. Again, I hate I have to do this but some people can’t grasp others have different opinions this is just me venting. It’s tagged as it should be, under the cut, and I am not here to like go after anyone. Only say how i feel and maybe get others to at least understand a different side. You dont not have to read this and if you disagree with me, just ignore this post, block it, block me. I DON’T WANT TO ARGUE I just want to fuckin vent and express how I feel

anyway idk I am just very tired rn with how much the internet eats up c//a and like puts it on a pedestal. I can rant about how I don’t feel like it should have it or how it was poorly written or how it COULD have been great but falls short. But what I want to talk about is

how fuckin tiring it is to see it all the time when it is fucking triggering. Yes, I block the tags on like tumblr. I am happy i follow people who like tag that and if something gets untagged i block the post or maybe unfollow the person. If i am in the tags and see it somehow or someone it the icon, I block. I do it for my own sake

but so many other sites are not like that. Fuck joining discord servers now I am a bit on edge cause lol I don’t know who will have that as an icon and if they do I will block. or if people start to talk about it, I have to think to myself “will I be thought of as a ‘villain’ for asking to spoiler it or not talk about c/a at all” because yes a lot of people will respect me and my trigger but I have see SO many people disrespect people hurt by s/pop and c//a. So many times have people put us down or say we are not abuse victims or don’t understand it when MANY of us have been abused. When many of us see ourselves in Adora or wanted Catra to get better and saw us in her also. I cannot speak for everyone but so many of us wanted this to work out one way or another and all we got was a trigger and being bullied and harassed and told our abuse isn’t real (or we are racist or X-phobic when many of us are poc or queer)

there is just like no escaping c/a and it SUCKS as someone who is triggered by it. It sucks on sites where blocking is not as good as it is here, I have to play russian roulette. Fuck on youtube ill be watching a video and BAM a random c//a clip. It so fuckin tiring

and i loved s/pop. I relate to Adora so much so and that is why it hurts so much. ive been abused, I have been in toxic relationships, and I wanted good things for Adora and yet, now I got a trigger because s/pop was so poorly handled.

again I am not here to attack anyone, if you find comfort in c//a I am not here to change your mind. The fact of the matter is so many people got hurt by this. That there is another side to the story and we have been left in the dust. And it  just is tiring to be now walking on eggshells because you say one bad thing (which guess what you are allowed! to criticize shows you like! its how we learn from mistakes and get better!!!) and then you have a horde of people attacking you and saying your trauma, your experiences as a queer person or abused person or person of color is not valid at all.

it just fuckin sucks man

[justpan]

Title: Unwilling Bride

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Summary: Pirates are planning an attack and all hands are on board to prepare for battle...maybe even the wrong hands.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Now that Bae had “escaped” the island, it was just a waiting game. 

Waiting for him to grow up and meet the product of true love so that they could create the truest believer.

Peter of course kept his eyes on this but there was very little he could do to hurry things along, no matter how much he wished he could have.

You wished that there was something you could do to help him, but there wasn’t anything that you could do either; plus you weren’t sure if he wanted to talk to you at all at this point.

Now that you and Rufio were an item.

It seemed like things around camp were still trying to find a new way to operate; everyone was walking on eggshells either around Pan or you and Rufio. Despite how often you assured the Lost Boys that you no longer harbored any ill feelings for your ex.

Of course you and Peter weren’t exactly friendly enough to spend time together away from camp business but you were at least able to speak with each other directly, which was a huge improvement. 

Business was all it was though, it was like he had decided to keep you at an arm's length, and you understood why.

You couldn’t stand to even see him walking toward Wendy’s hut back when you had first divorced, you couldn’t imagine seeing him with her the way he saw you with Rufio.

Laughing by fires, playfully wrestling during training and sneaking off to your little hide away for more...intense making out.

To his credit Peter never seemed to hold a grudge against Rufio, not that he really could without being obvious. Rufio was a great addition to the Lost Boys; he was an amazing hunter and he had even begun training other boys in acrobatics, showing them how to use the trees of Neverland to their advantage.

Things were tense but they were working, you were happy.

Only one thing seemed to be an issue… Wendy.

She had apparently complained and whined enough about feeling cooped up in that hut that Pan had finally caved and given her one simple task.

Berry and herb collecting.

The most basic chore, and it had been basically marked as pointless since the pirates delivered plenty of food and herbs, but the little twit felt like she was contributing to the camp.

You were sitting down skinning today’s kill when Wendy came and sat next to you, staring at you wordlessly.

‘What do you want?’ you asked in annoyance as you stayed focused on the rabbit you were busy with.

‘I want to be friends with you.’ she said quickly.

‘Why? Because I’m the only girl here, want to braid each other’s hair and talk about all the cute boys here?’  you scoffed.

‘No…’

You looked at her from the corner of your eye.

‘Well, we don’t have to braid hair or talk about boys...but it would be nice to be friends with at least one person here, and I have nothing in common with the boys.’ Wendy confessed.

‘You have nothing in common with me, other than what’s between your legs.’ 

‘That can’t be true, my mother always told me every woman has something in common with another.’

‘Really? Have you ever shot an arrow, or been hit by one?’ you asked.

‘No!’ Wendy gasped in horror.

‘Skinned any squirrels?’

‘No.’

‘Then not a lot in common.’

‘Have you ever...bled through your skirts?’ Wendy tried.

The laugh that shot out of you nearly startled you, you had never thought that she would bring up the thing one the two of you would have in common.

‘Of course I have!’ you laughed.

As you continued to laugh Wendy joined in as well and you thought of how confused all the boys must be to see the two of you laughing together, and that just made you laugh harder.

‘Oh my God! Sit down you daffodil, if you can handle the shit show that is your period then you can handle skinning a few squirrels.’ you invited, handing her a squirrel and a skinning knife.

The girl looked horrified, but she took the two items, holding them like they were poisonous.

‘We are not friends, but I think your life here would be better if you stopped being so soft. That’s why the boys are so annoyed by you, you try to apply your stupid manners to them; manners that mean dog shit in a place like this.’ you explained as you showed her how to cut through the skin and pull it off in one go.

‘I know...it's just hard to forget how I was raised.’ 

‘Where you from Wendy, Oz? Boys from there always seem to be more polite.’ you conversed as you watched her struggle to remove the skin like you showed her.

‘Oz...no I’m from England.’

‘England? As in my world? Do you know anything about America?’ you asked, suddenly interested.

‘America? Yes I believe that’s where the bad people are sent to work.’ she said as she finally completed her task, proudly showing off her feat. 

‘Yikes so you are from WAY back in the day.’ you sighed.

The two of you conversed while you skinned the game, Wendy of course sticking to the smaller animals while you tackled the deer and boar.

Eventually Rufio came up to you and kissed your cheek.

‘Stop it, I'm busy.’ you smiled, making no move to push him off.

‘What if I came to help? Can I stay then?’ he asked, holding up his own knife.

‘Depends, did you sharpen all the weapons, that was your chore for the day.’ 

Your boyfriend made a completely offended face, showing you his knife again.

‘Look at this beauty, have you ever seen a blade so sharp? I think I might cut myself just by looking at it.’ he boasted.

‘It is a lovely piece of work.’ Wendy spoke up politely.

Rufio sent her a look as if he was only now seeing her right there, then he looked over to you in confusion.

‘We’ve found common ground over the fact that both of our vaginas shed.’ you smiled.

‘Great...is this that feminism you told me about?’ he asked as he took hold of a boar and started skinning it.

‘Part of it.’ you answered.

The three of you made basic small talk as you skinned all your animals and once you were finished Tootles came to take them and make jerky.

‘I don’t understand why everyone still hunts, the pirates bring us plenty of food.’ Wendy said.

‘Keeps my boys sharp, I don’t need a camp full of fat lazy hormonal idiots. This island would eat them alive, and Pan has a reputation that is bound to lead someone with bad intentions our way. If my parents did me any favors it was teaching me to always be prepared for a shit show.’ you said.

‘And it’s fun, not like there is anything else to do but beat the hell out of each other and descend into chaos. We need the organization.’ Rufio said as you all looked over at a random brawl that was taking place.

‘This is organized?’ Wendy asked in horror.

‘Completely organized.’ Felix said as he approached your little trio.

‘Oh looky here, where have you been Fruitcake?’ Rufio smiled.

‘With Pan.’ the scarred boy replied.

‘With Pan as in...with Pan.’ you teased, lowering the tone in your voice.

‘As in we have real business to discuss, come on I’ll fill you in on the way.’ he said as he walked past.

‘His bedside manner needs a lot of work.’ you sighed as you bid your boyfriend and Wendy farewell.

Felix led you toward Peter’s Thinking Tree, a place you were not too fond of, considering he had tied you to it when you first met.

‘What’s going on?’ you asked.

‘Pirates, looks like they might be up to something, deliveries are coming later and shorter and they seem to be getting a bit too bold. Pan thinks they might be preparing to attack.’

‘That makes no sense, from how it was explained to me they got a pretty sweet deal with us. Why attack and risk losing it?’

‘They are dumb adults with too much pride.’ Felix said in annoyance.

‘Now that you know what I do, tell me something I don’t know. Like how are things with you and the Rooster.’

‘Things are great, he’s great and he treats me great. Things with him just flow naturally with no rush and no hesitation. I really like him.’ you answered.

‘So it’s boring.’ Felix hummed.

‘No! It is not boring, it's...safe. I like him and he likes me, we get along and he’s sweet and attractive as hell. Nothing is wrong with us, we are a good couple.’ you defended.

‘Safe? Look at where you live...you don’t like safe (Y/N).’ he said.

‘I do like safe, when it comes to relationships. I like knowing that I’m never going to wake up one day and everything between me and Rufio has just...changed. Or worry that the whole time it was all just some scheme.’

‘I can’t speak on whatever Pan’s plans are or were, but I can say he seemed happier with you. I think it was real.’ Felix reasoned.

‘So did I, but then it wasn’t, then he told me it was. It was all such a yo-yo game and I just can’t get back on the string man. Rufio is safe and I like that...I need that.’ you finished.

‘Fine, your business I guess, but my curiosity begs to know...how safe is my friend.’ Felix asked.

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘How far have you two gotten? The bastard won’t tell me anything.’

‘Well Nosy, if you must know; we’ve done…’ you paused.

‘You’ve done what?’ he urged.

‘...pretty much the same as I did with Peter.’ you grinned as your friend rolled his eyes.

‘So still no real sex, I honestly don’t know how you’ve waited this long, Lord knows I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a good chunk of these boys.’ 

‘Even Rufio?’ you gasped.

‘Ew no...it’s practically incest, even I have some morality.’ he laughed.

At last you two arrived at the thinking tree and saw Peter sitting at the roots, twirling the vile of fairy dust he wore on his neck.

About a year ago the Thinking Tree went dry and he couldn’t get anymore so he was saving the last of his supply for an emergency. So that meant no more flying for him and you could all tell that it depressed the hell out of him.

‘Felix filled me in. What’s the plan and what do I need to do?’ you asked as you crouched down in front of him.

‘They’re camping near Mermaid Lagoon, which is risky but smart. If I weren’t so clever I’d never expect anyone to anchor their ship in such a dangerous spot and they could creep on through the woods around the Forgotten Forest and ambush our camp.’ Pan explained as he drew a crude map in the dirt to show the path from the Lagoon to your camp.

‘But you are clever, so what are we going to do when they attack?’ Felix asked as he leaned against the tree.

‘Place the archers in the trees, clubs and swords in the bushes, nice and swift battle.

‘Are you kidding me?’ you scoffed.

‘What is wrong with that plan?’ Pan asked.

‘Nothing, if you want casualties and a boring fight no one is going to think about next week.’ you said.

With a slightly disappointed sigh you wiped away his map and drew your own.

‘Move the camp, leave the clearing empty to make the battlefield, have fences built in to trap the pirates in once they arrive. When that is done clubs and swords drop down from the trees; leave the archers on the ground behind the trees and bushes. Once they are ready to flee we let down the fence and send them off knowing not to attack us ever again.’ you explain as you drew out your plan in the dirt.

‘That’s huge.’ Felix said as he also crouched down to look over your plan.

‘It is...so big no one would even think to expect it… but it might be too big. I expect an attack in a matter of weeks. We don’t have time to build fences and move the camp.’ Pan argued.

‘Then I will magic the camp into a new spot and that will give the boys more time to work on the fences.’

‘I can have our best builders working on it now. And the rest can compact the camp so it's easier for (Y/N) to move.’ Felix added.

Peter looked hesitant but he nodded and sent Felix off.

You were considering leaving too but something in your gut was telling you that Peter was upset about something.

‘What’s wrong?’ 

‘Nothing.’ 

‘Try that with someone else who doesn’t know you, you’ve been frowning since you heard my plan.’

‘Your plan is great...perfect even.’

‘So what is the issue, do you think it’s too risky?’

‘No, I just...I would have liked to have been a part of it more but I can’t do much to help with how weak my magic is becoming. If it weren’t for my shadow, I wouldn’t have even known something was wrong since I can’t patrol the island anymore.’ he said as he stood up.

‘Hey, you are doing plenty and we will get through this, it’s child’s play.’ you assured him.

‘You don’t need to placate me (Y/N), it doesn’t help. I’ll just keep eyes on the pirates for now and I’ll let you know when they are close.’ Peter said as he turned to walk away.

‘Wait.’

Peter turned back and looked at you.

‘The boys miss you at camp, and now more than ever they are going to want to see you. It’s nice to see the person you follow into battle and I don’t think they want to see you full of doubt.’ 

‘I doubt they want to see how useless I am now, do you think they follow me because of my winning personality? It’s my power that they respect and I’m losing it (Y/N), once that’s gone I’m going to lose them.’ he said before walking away.

You wished you could say something to say make him feel better but you know deep down he was right. Every single Lost Boy survived their old lives by being cut throat and while here there was an obvious hierarchy you had to imagine a good amount of them still had ambition. 

Without Pan at the helm the island would descend into pure chaos and mutiny.

You had to shake away those thoughts and focus on what was happening now; pirate attacks.

There was a lot of work to be done and thankfully Felix wasted no time on briefing the boys on what was about to go down and got them in action immediately.

‘Pull as much as you can into your tents, its easier to move full tents than everything item by item! Move it boys, this isn’t a game, pack this shit in, fill the tent’s to the brim!’ you yelled as you entered the camp.

It was full on panic as everyone was running around picking up everything they could pick up and placing it in tents. Whenever one was full you would send it off to another clearing that was closer to your little room but further from the Lagoon.

You found it so odd sometimes, your magic still felt as strong as it had always been, but Peter’s seemed to fade more and more as the days went on. You imagined it had to do with his ties to that Hourglass and the island.

Eventually the sun was setting, another thing that was odd to you, daylight felt like it only lasted five hours. At first you wanted to chop it all up to time being useless here and you simply losing track of it, but one day you took the time to pay attention and you knew it for sure.

Plants were drying, animals were becoming harder to find, days were shortening and Peter’s magic was weakening...it wasn’t hard for you to put it all together.

The island was dying, and Peter was scared.

With it being dark now and the temperature dropping you let them all turn in, letting everyone know it was going to be an early start tomorrow.

You noticed Wendy hadn’t been helping too much with heavy lifting but it looked like she was at least trying. Took her about thirty seven years but she was finally putting in the effort to try and help around camp.

For the next two weeks everyone was focused on the tasks at hand, building fences and preparing for the attack.

Everything was perfect and everyone was excited for what was sure to be an easy win and an epic battle; even Wendy who was certainly not fighting in it, but she would play a very big part in it.

You had sent her off to make sure the tents were being sent to the right clearing, in other words you were getting her out of the way.

What you didn’t plan on  was her being dumb enough to get lost in the Forgotten Forest, the one place even Pan’s shadow couldn’t navigate and you certainly didn’t think the Pirates were also that foolish.

But at last they were, and they did cross paths.

Wendy stood before this large group of filthy men and their weapons and she felt frozen with fear as they looked at her, taking in her stupid cute dress and defenseless self.

‘Well boys looky what we have here, I guess even Pan needs to have his needs met.’ Hook smiled dangerously as he approached the frozen girl.

He raised his hook and threateningly slid it down her face, leaving a trail of reddened skin in his wake.

‘P-please don’t.’ she said as a tear fell from her eyes.

‘Oh sweetheart what do you think of us? We would never hurt such a young...cooperative girl like you.’ he said with a dark look.

[shadowlink06]

A Captive Heart (Deleted Scenes)

The first draft of this piece capped off at 31k words. These are the scenes I managed to save. Keep in mind, these are being presented as unedited so expect to see typos. One of the things I will tell my editors is to make the story readable. Don't worry about my feelings or deleting scenes. It was pretty normal that 5k was cut as during my World of Ruin series, at least 10k has been deleted or rearranged. Please do not read this post if you have not read the entire story as it contains spoilers.

Salve Regina did not have any deleted scenes since it was a last-minute story that I wrote. You can definitely see the difference when I have more time to think about the story.

Chapter 1:

Regis lamented over his son’s health the more that the days had passed. It was a risk coming to Tenebrae, but he could think of no other options for help when Noctis had slipped in his coma. Thankfully he had woken from it, but there still appeared to be something wrong with him. On the balcony overlooking the city, he stared into the tiny silhouettes of the people going about their day without a care in the world. He wished he could have been more carefree like them. Everyday was like walking on eggshells. He and Sylva had been friends in the distant past. Niflheim’s occupation of the region had limited their contact.

Aldercapt had been a man of greed. His reign had been one stained in bloodshed and heartbreak with the evolving magitek troops he had produced. The rumor was that there was someone within his court that was responsible for the sudden production of the inhuman creations. A human or daemon… it was hard to say at this point. What Regis did know was that in the last twenty years, there had been strides made from Niflheim that caused the barrier protecting Lucis to grow ever smaller.

Regis glanced at the ring of the Lucii. His forebears aided him as much as they could to drive away the onslaught time and time again but the price the ring demanded was a high one. That is why the King had gone through desperate strides to see that Noctis would get better, even if that meant being in enemy territory. Most of the retinue that had joined him had gone back to Lucis and only a handful remained behind to not cause attention to be drawn to Sylva while she did her best to heal Noctis. In his heart, the King wished for the illness Noctis seemed to suffer from to pass quickly but a part of him wondered if the daemon attack had taken more from his son than he could fathom.

Chapter 2:

Regis found himself unable to sleep the past few weeks. Speaking to Sylva had confirmed to him that the daemon attack might have damaged Noctis in a way that was hard for even the Oracle to heal. He had thought the worst of it had been over when Noctis came out of his coma, but perhaps it was just a prelude. When the boys had been settled for bed, the King had taken leave to the gardens with Clarus at his side.

A part of him was still suspicious of the daemon attack. He had known that Niflheim was making strides in their magitek production the last twenty years. Why that had been so had been bothersome to the King and his council. The war with the other nation had always been bloody with Aldercapt’s family refusing to stop it’s aggressive expansion in Eos. And then there was the crystal which they seemed to both admire, fear, and be jealous that such a power was out of their control.

But Regis, like his father before him, refused to give into Niflheim’s demands. There had been concessions made that had unfortunately given Niflheim more influence over what was once Lucian territory but they were still waging war desperately trying to drive the enemy back. What hope he had of ending the war seemed to be only a fairytale. Noctis was destined to continue this struggle, much to Regis’s disappointment.

That was why it was alarming that it seemed that Noctis seemed to be the target. No doubt it would hurt Regis, but also put him at greater risk since that was his only son. Regis could only hope that Noctis would pull through, whatever was wrong with him. “Clarus,” He spoke to his friend. “Do you think this is the right path to take?”

The Shield considered his words. “It is not my place to say your Highness.”

Wedding Crashers:

Even if it was in the early morning, Aranea always stopped by the same bar, at the same time. She wasn’t sure when the ritual started, but she, Biggs, and Wedge, always ate together before proceeding to their business at the Empire. As she walked in today though, there was a hole that filled in the pit of her stomach as she sat in the barstool, right in the middle of the men. The bartender, an old guy around 70, gave a nod and set a glass in front of her before pouring orange juice in it. “Usual?” His gruffled voice muttered behind the heavy gray mustache.

“Please.” Aranea said before he disappeared into the back to get her order ready.

“Should’ve ordered something different.” Biggs said as he lit the tip of his cigarette. Sure will be reassigned after the wedding day is announced.

“Feels strange.” Wedge admitted. “Thought I would resent those brats being their personal babysitters... but they were both good people.”

“Don’t tell me you are getting sentimental?” Aranea mused with an arched brow.

“Naw… it’ll be nice to take to the skies again.” Wedge replied.

“Agreed, much prefer it. We were meant for the sky.” Biggs said.

Aranea had to agree with them. That is where the three of them met together when they had signed up for the job. It was so fun being able to see all of Eos just outside of their window. She grabbed her glass before taking a drink out of it. The acidic burn of the orange juice stung going down, but she kept chugging it until nothing was left. “Humph, another era for Niflheim.”

“His Radiance certainly played his cards right.”

That made the commodore laugh softly. “Guess he did…” Too well. From there the trio grew silent as they continued to small talk about what would be next for them. Eventually the bartender came back with toast, eggs, and bacon for three of them as they ate breakfast together. Aranea didn’t finish her meal much to Biggs and Wedge’s surprise.

“You okay Lady A?” Biggs asked.

Aranea nodded before glancing down at the unfinished plate. “Yeah, guess I just got a lot on my mind.” She reached into her wallet throwing out enough bills to cover their meals and left a generous tip for the bartender. “Guess we better get ready to go.” All three stood up walking out of the bar. She readied herself to go to the castle while Biggs and Wedge headed to the aircraft hold to delegate security for the coming wedding. Before they parted the commodore couldn’t help but speak to her friends. “Biggs… Wedge. It’s been great knowing you.”

The pair looked at each other before chuckling softly. “Sure you haven’t been hittin’ the bottles Ms?” Biggs said with that goofy grin on his face. They knew that Aranea never drank for she had always been one to know what was going on around her. Biggs always said eventually he’d get her drunk one of these days. He hadn’t succeeded in the past ten years though.

Aranea forced herself to laugh. “Maybe a little bit. See you guys.” Although in the bottom of her heart this moment was the last time she would see them.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Titus walked into the Lucis council chamber early in the morning. It was Prince Noctis’s eighteenth birthday, and today was the day that Regis was dreading. Aldercapt had wasted no time in getting the date set up for the wedding the moment Noctis had turned of age. His Radiance had assumed that Regis would try something if the wedding day was extended longer… given how the council had been behaving the last few months, Aldercapt had been right.

Stil he had been unable to figure out just who was feeding the council information about the Prince’s movements. But he had gotten better about covering up his emotions when it was clear that sensitive information about the Prince was delivered. Whoever it was had been sly, always staying out of reach of Titus’s grasp and slipping away. It was hard to pin down who it was since whoever was feeding the court information wasn’t coming directly to the citadel to deliver the information. From what he could tell, the intel was spot on. Between them knowing Aldercapt’s schedule, times where the military cabinet would be attending meetings, or even when they were not in Niflheim, it was always accurate. Whoever it was, Titus was managing to stay one step ahead of them by abruptly changing plans or cancelling meetings to subvert a way to leave Noctis vulnerable. So far, he had been successful, but by now, the mole knew that there was a mole in Lucis which was making things more complicated. Titus was hoping that the mole would surface soon. His affairs at Niflheim had kept him from learning about the secret ops mission that Clarus was overseeing. Until the wedding day was taken care of, Titus was on leave giving him the opportunity to play his role as Drautos.

Lucis had to make their move soon else they would be subservient to Niflheim. That was why he was counting on something big happening during the small window where Noctis turned 18 and he produced an heir. It was a critical time for both sides, and it might have been time to cut his ties from Lucis completely. His only regret was the same one he had ten years ago, he couldn’t be the one to thrust his sword in Regis’s heart.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“You won’t be able to do this on your own!” Noctis cried out.

She agreed with the Prince, but it was irrelevant. Everyone had gambled on this to work and so she could only press forward. “I said go! I can’t fight them and protect you brats!” She shouted pointing the spear at them to make her point clear.

Ignis hesitated, but pulled Noctis up. “We have to go Noct…” He said softly, eyeing the street and where the circled area was. Almost there… he hoped whatever was there was useful.

Aranea continued to destroy the units as they continued to deploy from the drop ship. “I’ve gotta take those damn things out.”. Charging her Stoss Spear, she pressed the tip of it into the ground using the momentum of the energy to propel her forward. She landed on the roof of the homes watching as the drop ships descended lower. “Perfect.” She said jumping rooftop to rooftop to close the distance in between them. She was thankful that her time in the sky was helpful in this situation.

The MTs might have been up to date with the constant upgrades and data supplied by Verstael, but the drop ship models were ones that had a few decades behind. The newer models were sent to battles, and the older ones were stationed within the city. They might not have been as fast, but the older drop ships didn’t have to be since this was the capital and it was always heavily guarded. It was an exploit that Aranea had hoped would happen. The engine was easier to get to in the older models. The glowing energy radiating from the hull gave away their location. Charing her spear, she moved herself closer to it before striking the engine with the tip. Several explosions followed before she had to jump away. The ship started to descend, and Aranea grit her teeth praying that the people below would hear the sound of the ship and evacuate the area safely. A subsequent crash and explosion followed, yet Aranea pressed on. She couldn’t worry about the casualties or damage now, there were two more ships that needed to be downed. She did the same maneuver as before and a second drop ship fell from the sky. The last one, was a bigger model, and one that had her heart skip a beat. The emblem off to the side was unmistakable. Glauca’s personal ship.

She stopped to catch her breath as more MTs dropped out of the General’s ship surrounding her. The searchlight was steady on her from Glauca’s ship and her mouth pressed together seeing that familiar sight of bluish metal and ominous red jump out of the drop ship. The impact of Glauca’s fall had the concrete a few feet from him disintegrate into shattered pieces of rocks. “Aranea Highwind…” The voice boomed. “All this time… you were the traitor in our midst.”

To that the commodore laughed softly. “Well what can I say? Guess I have a soft spot for kids.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“-I said just do it!” Verstael snarled watching the soldier cringe from his tone. “If the General or Aldercapt have an issue with it... they can speak to me personally. Make sure he is given a sedative to keep him knocked out.” No, he didn’t even want anyone seeing this boy and he covered up the boy’s face still speaking. “Take care of him… now.”

“Y-yes sir!” The soldier moved down and began to tend to the Lucian.

When Verstael was sure that he got the point across he was already aiming for the direction of his lab. “That boy…” He murmured, unable to get the image of his face out of his head. The features were unmistakable. As a scientist, he didn’t believe in fate or luck. Yet for once… he was at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. A DNA test needed to be done first to verify his thoughts, but deep down he already knew why that soldier looked so damn familiar.

Aftermath:

There had always been rumors about the King’s health. The access to the armiger did have it’s limitations along with the power of the kings. Prompto had never seen Regis use it first hand, but he knew that each time Regis blessed a Crownsguard or Kingsglaive with the power of the armiger, he lost precious time on his life. It was why the King had always described this mission as “be all to end all”. Of course Noctis being prisoner for as long as he had been was something that Regis had always wanted to change, but the cost… he had no idea it would be taken this far.

“You have nowhere to go now boy.” The voice said softly. “But worry not, you are in the place you are supposed to be.”

Prompto grit his teeth thrashing against his bonds. “I kneel before no king but Regis Lucis Caelum and his son Noctis Lucis Caelum!”

“Who is dead.” The voice reminded him. “And as for that brat… well you might have him back but even the company of your best doctors will not erase ten years under our care.” Of course he didn’t know that for sure but… they still had something that the Prince wanted. “Regardless of that… I must undo the damage that your mother has done to you. It is the only way you will be pardoned for your crimes.”

Prompto froze at the mention of his mother. Why did someone from Niflheim seem to speak so formally. No… it was a trick. The gunner laughed softly. “Is this your idea of an interrogation? Making up stories to think I’ll take the bait?” He heard a door opening behind him, but he couldn’t even turn to see who had come into the room. “You’re really bad at this…”

“Had it been anyone else, I might not have pressed the issue. But you and I… share a history together.”

Prompto didn’t recognize the voice at all though. Not wishing to give the man a reason to start his torture, he opted to keep the man talking for now. “I know no one from Niflheim.” He spat, the malicus was clear, the things that he had seen growing up, the people that suffered because of their magitek were burned into his brain. “I’m a proud Lucian! Never would I apologize to Niflheim scum!”

“That is no way to speak of the land of your birth, Prompto.”

The gunner’s breath hitched when the man said his name. He could have blamed it on his ID being taken, or even the Crownsguard uniform but he knew that all officers that had been tasked with this operation had all of their personal belongings left back home. So with that knowledge in the back of his mind… how had this man figured out his name? Now he was trying to look at the figure from his peripheral vision.

“It seems I’ve gotten your attention now.” The voice mused. “I’m glad she didn’t change your name. You were born in these halls, I held you in my hands. You were destined to be a scientist and know the best of cutting edge technology. But your mother… a coward unwilling to embrace the power of my research took you and fled. I had wondered where she had taken you too.” He snorted. “Lucis would have been the last place I expected.” But in hindsight it did make the most sense.

“Who…. who the hell are you?” Prompto choked out. The man finally stood in front of him and what he saw made his face pale as he came face to face with a man that looked so much like him. The freckles dotting his face, the blonde hair, the blue eyes burning back at him.

Verstael summoned a gun from his own armiger. Unlike Prompto’s weapons though, the magic that came from it was glowing red rather than blue. He pointed the barrel at Prompto’s face wrestling with what to do about the situation. “Hello... my son.”

[missaureus]

CRASH LANDING ON YOU

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Romance, Drama

Rating: 10/10

I actually finished this series prior to the quarantine season but let me just include it to the list because I invested so much emotions to it, to the point it left me handicapped.

Crash Landing on You has so much on its plate! Not to mention the controversy it faced, being criticized by the liberal party for romanticizing not their own kind. I truly appreciate how this production served something new to the audience! The disclaimer being rolled before each episode is a reminder how a vast mind can offer so much - a window to let us visually access how the life is in the world's most secretive country, North Korea. Sure, there are already dramas with North Korea as a setting but the overall portrayal of CLoY makes it loved by the general public.

Apart from the reason of casting big actors as leads, how the supporting roles in CLoY are being painted give a big impact to the whole canvas, even the hostiles and the helpless. The side stories are definitely not something to be skipped. Surprisingly, my favorite character is Seo Dan's mom. She exudes peak mom level! Actually, all mother figures radiate strong personalities! Among all, I appreciate Seo Dan's character development the most! She is definitely a revolution herself. Thank you for empowering women on screen! Lastly, the backbone of the story are the best squads in the history of kdrama, the soldier squad and the mom squad ㅋㅋThey are just pure and fun to watch, even their chemistry with Seri is good~

I honestly ran out of expectations from this drama. I was afraid how it is going to end but the greatest takeaway is that, each character reached their own resolution. Probably some might disagree re: Seo Dan and Seung Jun's tragedy. But the second male lead saying: I was wrong. When I die, there’s someone who will cry for me. The fact that it’s you makes me sad and happy. I guess that resolved his own conflict. *criii*

I have so much to say, to be honest because this drama is generous enough with insights. Highly recommended~ People saying this is too overrated need to sit down and repent lol!

ITAEWON CLASS

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Revenge

Rating: 9/10

First episode and it was already dark and bold. The plot caters a pool of societal issues such as class differences, abuse of power/injustices, transgender discrimination, and racism. This drama has a different aura compared to previous works of Park Seo Joon. Even the love story of the leads is not the typical lovey dovey~

The main character's determination to avenge his father's death is scalding hot throughout the episodes. It was as consistent as his hairstyle for years istg. Hard work does not betray, indeed. What struck me the most is when one character, Seung Kwon, who used to be Saeroyi jailmate, crossed paths again after years in the outer world. He narrated how everyone is given the same amount of time but the depth of time one spends is completely different compared to someone who does not set goals and persevere through time to get it.

No wonder how the rating of the show did good since the characters are effectively pulled off despite how tacky each personality is.

HI BYE, MAMA!

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Fantasy

Rating: 10/10

This series stirred the general public for a fact that the one portraying Seo Woo is actually a boy. The enormous attention it absorbed was also due to its heartbreaking storyline. It is not even an exaggeration that there is no episode that would not let you cry. It will give your tear ducts so much work.

It reflects a pool of family values and love. It will make you realize even more no matter what age you have, you will still need your mom. It will make you ponder how death can rob you in an instant. Midong, a shaman in the drama, once said: A woman who lost her husband is called a widow. A man who lost his wife is called a widower. And a kid who lost his parents is called an orphan. But there’s no word for a parent who lost their kid. Know why? It’s because no word can describe it. There’s no word in this world that can describe the excruciating pain. That is too devastating, I can't digest it.

I want to commend the three main characters so much! They deserve a round of applause each. Both Seowoo's moms deserve her. Yuri and Minjung are both selfless and strong, as mothers should be. It's true that being aggressive with their respective decision against the other without feeling sorry could have been done if one is mean towards the other. This drama has no antagonist and it is frustrating that no one can take the blame. Sadly, one mom must be hurt deeply in order to save the other mom. Shoutout to all stepmoms! Not all are evil, stop labeling them as one. Seowoo's dad, Kanghwa, for me, has the hardest character. He has been walking on eggshells. All his life, his shoulders are heavy. He endured so much and embraced unnecessary guilt. His walls are too high that made his relationship with others shaky. He is afraid for people to get hurt to the point being too considerate does not help him at all, making himself his own punching bag.

Hitting the resolution of the story is a painful process but it is the kind of hurt that liberated all characters involved. To be able to point out what went wrong and ungrasping it--- Yuri boldy telling his used-to-be husband "I am not yours anymore. You can let me go now." opened the door to silence the conflicts. Acceptance.

Literally, I cried how the epilogue gave a glimpse of the couple's life if Yuri was able to escape his death note. It only takes a second to change a life-changing event. But reaching the final episode was the real deal for my tear ducts ㅠ I seriously cried 90 minutes straight! I am so satisfied how it is wrapped up. No better ending no matter heartbreaking it is!

HE IS PSYCHOMETRIC

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Fantasy, Thriller

Rating: 9/10

Why did I just watch it noW? ㅠ Wow, this is a masterpiece! The plot twist is insane! I love how the truth was unfold throughout the story. It was helluva stressful hahaha. Dark enough. Since I was hungry for an answer, I finished this one almost straight 16 hours!!! If you have watched While You Were Sleeping, which was about someone who can dream about the future, this series is a counterpart. The main lead can see the past by touching a person or object. This unique ability helped him solve cases, especially the event the greatly involved him in the past.

I commend Jinyoung for crying that much! Crazy he has lots of frame that in need of crying ㅋㅋㅋ Rise the flag of actor-idol! He is a natural, to be honest. His character, Ahn's funny antics always got me~ The female lead, Ye Eun has an uncanning resemblance of Yerim, hahaha it awed me while watching~

I am satisfied how it ended. Although I would to see more of their love story but in totality it is a must-watch definitely!

WHEN THE CAMELLIA BLOOMS

Number of Episodes: 40

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Thriller

Rating: 9/10

I love how this is filtered ♡ Very aesthetic that I want to live in Ongsan too! Life for the female lead is too complex. The plot revolves around straightening the strands of conflicts of her life. Dealing with her son who does not want her to have a boyfriend, who is short-tempered and acts maturely to protect her mom; dealing with her boyfriend who loves her unconditionally, who always believes in her and brings out the best of her; dealing with her ex husband, who wants to stand as a father to his child and fill in those years he missed to take care of him; dealing with her neighbors, who speak ill and put her in a bad light at first; dealing with her mother who made her an orphan and came back to her sick; dealing with her secret killer...

This runs for 20 hours and I could not remember the last drama I've watched this long but I savored it without any hint boredom. It ended but I still want mooore. I love how every character is given ample amount of screen time in the last episode. Everyone ended up happily. The went through so much, a happy ending is deserved by all. I was moved. I learned so much about life which is too complex to be completely understood.

Props to Haneul! His loud and vibrant acting is commendable!!! And the post-credit is so heartwarming ㅠㅠ I had a fair share of tears for this drama ㅠㅠ

BECAUSE THIS IS MY FIRST LIFE

Number of Episodes: 16

Genre: Drama, Romance

Rating: 9/10

I had two attempts to successfully finish this series and what a shame it took me this long? This series also moved me so much. It talks about views and opinion about living independently and marriage. Throughout, I was also questioning my decisions in life and effectively made me reflect.

Ji Ho who is 30, who is jobless, who is homeless. and Se Hee holds the answer to her problems. Se Hee who only loves his cat, who only values his house. Apart from having the same interest in beer and soccer, they mutually signed a contract that both benefitted them. Weird. How can you marry someone without involving emotions?

I also love the opposite personalities of the female lead's friends. Soo Ji who does not believe in marriage and described it as a tomb of a relationship. She is strong and independent. She does not take any guy seriously until Sang Goo happened. Ho Rang who dreams of being a housewife and a mother. She desperately wanted to marry his long-term partner because she is already hitting three decades. Sadly, his partner, Wonseok, expressed how he is not that ready yet and still starting to get a stable job.

I love how this drama ended! Heartwarming~

Part 1 | https://daisy-illusive.tumblr.com/post/162383689643

Part 2 | https://daisy-illusive.tumblr.com/post/169033240193

[elviravampira]

Tw/Cw for parental abuse, self harm, parasites

.

.

.

I started cutting myself when I was thirteen, on my shoulders, and then my upper arm, and then my thighs. My mom saw healing cuts on my thighs one day when I was, if I had to guess, 16. She took me aside, pointed at my legs, and told me if I didn't cut that shit out she'd tell my dad. That threat rocked me to my core, and I just started cutting higher up. I didn't know what my dad would do or would have done if he did find out about my SH. But ma didn't find any more, and so, the question remains.

But...why? Why??? Why didn't she help me??? She never helped me. She was supposed to because she's my mom but she didn't, she made it worse and fucking slammed the metaphorical door in my face.

I had tried so many times to talk about my emotions to my parents. Hey, I feel incredibly angry all the time and daydreams of violence make me feel calm. Hey, I'm really sad all the time and I don't know why but I am also losing interest in everything and can't focus, is that normal? Hey mom and dad, I feel like I'm being watched all the time. I feel like that's voices in my head do nothing but tell me what a Stupid Piece of Shit I am.

Everything was met with "this is normal parts of growing up! 😊 Everyone feels like that!" Now I understand that my parents are most likely mentally ill as well, and since I know that both of them think therapy is for "weak" people, they're undiagnosed. Remember, it's only a real illness if you are bleeding. Remember, don't forget.

Obviously that's horseshit. It did not help me and made it worse. I'm just too much of a wimp I guess. I began disaccociating when I was 14 and told no one because...I mean? When had they listened to me before? Even with physical illnesses I got fucking shit for. As I'm typing this, I'm remembering being like 9. I had pinworms. I used to play in the dirt a lot, I guess, so that's where they came from. I had them for a while before I realized what they were, and had to work up the nerve to tell my mom I thought I might have a parasite. She didn't look up from her book when she asked "are you fucking kidding me?"

I don't remember all that I said of course, about yeah I'm sure, I saw them in the toilet, but I felt she was angry at me, and didn't bring it up again. She didn't take me to the doctor. She didn't ever ask me about it. The worms went away on their own.

Haha, man. That brought up a bunch of memories of physical injuries I was yelled at over or not believed for.

My mom is the chief rug sweeper in the family. "I like to keep the peace", she says, as she lets my dad's Nmother verbally harass her and her children. This is a trait I learned from her, and it has hindered me incredibly. I'm doing my best to unlearn this and hold people accountable, including myself.

The fundamental betrayal of both of my parents against me, their daughter, is bad, and in some ways the turning away of my mother is worse than the eggshells my father forced me to walk on.

But that's a different post with different tags, and something that will be painful to write.

I'm glad I started this blog. Getting these memories out of my head, placing them here where I and they are safe. A lot of my childhood is now coming back into my memory since I'm out of that environment for good, and my head is uncomfortably crowded and it's loud. My boyfriend is amazing and incredibly supportive and understanding; however, he isn't my dumping ground for my baggage. He doesn't mind listening and comforting me, but it's unreasonable to talk about this with him whenever it's bothering me--which, now, is a lot. I told him and only him about this blog, and he thinks it's a great idea. I love him so much. Maybe I'll make a post one day just gushing about him instead of dragging my parents.

I wonder how I'll feel about this blog after they're gone. Maybe I'll feel guilty and bad and gaslight myself. But...it fucking happened. They did this and it was abuse. I won't say they're shitty people, because I can't. Ugh. Why is this shit so complicated, lol.

When I started this blog I thought I'd go with a linear timeline of my childhood, but I see now that that's impossible for me to do. So many of my memories are jumbled and missing pieces. But that's okay. It's okay.

Fuck.

--Elvira Vampira