#i mean its not like ive been physically abused or anything. ive never even lived with an alcoholic before. and ive only had to evacuate

[erisolkat]

maybe a lot of things would have been a lot clearer faster if we had already acknowledged the fact that it's odd that i've spent the entirety of my life extensively prepping for some nebulous disaster that would require me to jump out the window with just an easily grabbable container of essentials and the clothes on my back

[yanderu-deredere]

UM so like, ive been feeling really shittt? and i was wondering which of the yanderes would be good at dealing with a depressed or suicidal so?

a/n: yooo im so sorry it took me forever to answer this ask but i hope you're feeling better! and, if you're not, have these lovely yanderes to help! also, i placed it under the cut just because of the warnings so heed the warnings and lets get started!

warnings: mentions of gender dysphoria, mentions of sucidal thoughts and ideations, mentions of depression, mentions of conservative opinion/thoughts, mentions of suicide attempts

gawain dubhán byrne ★ profile

Gawain knew exactly how that felt. In fact, he’d been in the same position as you. There was a time where he was in the wrong body and it made him want to tear himself apart. He dreaded waking up in the morning, all he wanted to do was fall asleep and just never have to deal with anything ever again.

That being said, because of his unique circumstance, he knew kind of what to do. He’d been to therapists and doctors, he knew the breathing techniques and the journaling methods, he knew kind of how to talk you through depressive episodes; he’d take care of you as best as he can.

Actually, Gawain would be the type to take care of you even to the detriment of his own mental health. 

If he hasn’t kidnapped you and trapped you in his expensive penthouse, he definitely would now. He has no choice. He couldn't risk leaving you to your own devices! Nobody knew better than him that you can’t fix mentally ill people immediately. A lot of suicides are impulsive.

So, he'd need to trap you in his house. He’d call his brother over if he needs someone to babysit you but, basically, until he deems you well enough to be left alone, the two of you are attached at the hip. He would totally spoon feed you, he’d bathe you, he’d tuck you in; literally becomes an annoying caregiving leech.

Part of it is because he’s overprotective and wants to take care of you. The other part of it is that he wanted someone to do that for him when he was depressed and suicidal. He wanted someone to sweep him of his feet, to take care of him so he didn’t have to think about anything else; someone that would just hug him and hold him and coddle him.

So, now, that’s who he is to you. And, if you don’t like it, well… Gawain thinks you’re too depressed and suicidal to really decide anything for yourself.

fujio watanabe ★ profile

Not to burst your bubble but oh my god, Fujio is definitely the type of person to be like Depressed? The fuck? Just go get a job or something, being depressed is for people who have too much time on their hands.

It really is unfortunate but Fujio isn’t going to take you seriously until he has to. 

This means he’ll brush you off until you try to kill yourself, you start hurting yourself physically, you start wasting away because you’re not taking care of yourself, etc. When your health starts being threatened in one way or another, Fujio will explode.

He’s always had a volatile temper and it’s ten times as worse when it comes to his precious darling. Nobody can hurt you, not even yourself.

So, then, he starts talking to people. Not professionals, unfortunately, but like people he knows at work or his boss or people he trains with. It’ll be super stupid, like he just comes out and says it, rolling his eyes like Can you believe this? Being suicidal? Depression? What a load of bullshit, amirite?

Except he’s not right and a lot of people in Lovelock, city notorious for its seedy underbelly, knows it. A lot of people Fujio works with used to be kids that wanted to die rather than continue living their terrible lives with abusive families or with no food on the table. Fujio would definitely be put in his place.

Then he finally understands. He finally realises that this is something he could lose you over. For Fujio, he’d be the type to immediately kidnap his darling so he doubles up on security. He baby proofs your room and you’re not allowed to go outside unless he’s there. 

Before, you kind of just had free reign and he let you do whatever as long as you let him know. Now, privileges are revoked. Not because it’s a punishment but because he’s worried you’ll end up hurting yourself.

He’d also be way nicer and gentler to you. It would surprise him since the main reason he ended up falling in love with you was because he felt like he didn’t need to walk on eggshells around you. But, instead of falling out of love, you encourage this weird feeling of overprotectiveness. All he wants to do now is take care of you.

ayaka yamato ★ profile

What do you mean you want to die? 

Ayaka wouldn’t be able to understand. Of course she wouldn’t. She’s lived a privileged life where, though her father’s a piece of shit, she’s had everything pretty much handed to her for free. Most people either always want to say yes to her or aren’t able to say no. What more could a lady want?

So, if she finds out that you’re depressed or suicidal, she’d panic a little. You’d think she’d be really conservative about it since she grew up in a conservative household. Something along the lines of you’re not depressed, you’re just being a snowflake. 

However, that’s actually the opposite case. Ayaka has never met anyone that’s made her feel the same way you make her feel and, if she has to believe you and do something about it, she will. Anything to keep you by her side.

She just doesn’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at first. So, to learn, she’ll consult her tutor, a doctor, anybody she can find; she’ll learn exactly what she’s supposed to do here, what you need, what she needs to force you to do or what she needs to let you do by yourself.

Surprisingly, for someone who’s never had to lift a single finger her entire life, Ayaka can be relentless and resourceful when she wants to be. She low-key dumps money on the problem which, most of the time, can be a bad idea.

However, with Ayaka, she throws money at the problem with all the love in her heart. She gets you the best therapist money can buy, she makes sure to take you to different places if need be or stay with you in your room if going outside is too much. She makes sure to find out exactly why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling and she’ll put a stop to anything threatening your mental health.

(The one thing she won’t stop is bullying you but she definitely controls her tone in a way that makes it clear to you that she’s joking or teasing you. And, if you voice that you didn’t like something she said, unlike a normal darling, she’d definitely apologise and avoid saying it again in the future)

liam anthony arieh ★ profile

Liam is like a mix of Gawain and Fujio. Part of him is like Depression? Aren’t you being a special snowflake? But also part of him is like oh no, I was severely depressed and suicidal once! 

That first part of him comes from the fact that he had nobody to help him when he was depressed. When he wanted to die, the only thing stopping him was the fact that every single time he tried, he ended up in the hospital instead of in the morgue. It took him going through several attempts before he finally got a grip of himself and stopped.

It definitely took him a while to work through his depression and, even now, he sometimes makes suicidal jokes about how funny it would be if he blew his brains out with a gun or if he overdosed, etc. But he doesn’t want to seriously die now and he’s definitely far from depressed.

So, part of him expects you to go through that as well. Part of him thinks that the reason you’re depressed and suicidal is because you’re weak and you just need to get stronger.

However, the other part of him acknowledges that you’re weak. If you’re his darling, most likely the reason why you’ve piqued his interest is because, in his eyes, you are pure and innocent. In his eyes, you needed him to protect you from other people that wanted to do to you the same things he did but for the wrong reasons. 

In any case, his solution is surprisingly not to lock you up (if you aren’t already). He’ll definitely start stalking you hard or assigning employees to start trailing you and making sure you’re okay on days he’s not able to do so himself. He also tries to find a therapist but, specifically, a therapist that doesn’t mind breaking patient privilege. 

He needs control. He needs to be able to manouver you in the exact way he wants and depression? Depression makes you unpredictable. Depression makes it possible for you to be hurt by the one person he can’t completely protect you from: yourself.And he’d be damned if he lets anyone, especially yourself, take away the one good thing in Lovelock.

[wishful-seeker]

Thank you very much for interpreting another dream of mine, I love seeing your take on things.

If I were to try and associate these meanings to my life the thing that pops in my head the most is my health.

I have complex regional pain syndrome, And it's been progressing and getting worse for the past 4 years. I'm not officially diagnosed yet because I live in an area that is very far behind in every aspect of life, And I don't think they take complex regional pain syndrome seriously. It took me 4 years to finally be put on a medication that helps me enough to allow me to live a full life. And it's the biggest change I will probably ever experience, Other than becoming disabled and losing my abled body in the first place. The medication is ketamine through IV, And if you know anything about ketamine, The high is an extremely spiritual experience when given through iv, because its more intense. I've done it for 3 times, The last time was for 4 hours straight. It's incredibly hard for me to go through, Not necessarily because it's a bad trip, But because it teaches me many things. It opens up my soul and mind in ways that I've never experienced before, And not only is it allowing me to grow and heal spiritually, It's also physically helping my pain. Without the ketamine I am bedridden and wheelchair-bound, With it I can go on walks with my cat, I can play video games on the computer, Sometimes I can even climb a tree. It is bringing me to a new world that I thought was gone forever. That's what your interpretation reminds me of. Me losing my abled body was a death of its own, And I have specifically taken note of my experience with ketamine, The first time felt like I was dying, The second felt like I was being reborn, So I do truly believe that a new death and rebirth is happening now that I am getting the healing I need. When it comes to being grounded, I try very hard not to get my hopes up when it comes to my health, I try to take things very slowly and carefully, Because the idea of losing everything again is terrifying, But it's also something I've dealt with before so I wouldn't say I'm super scared of it.

Change is something I have experienced constantly my whole life, And my life can be broken down into stages of me trying to beat a large problem in my life. Whether it was overcoming the trauma of abuse as a young kid, Overcoming my suicidal thoughts as a teen, Or accepting my disability as a young adult. I have never really been in a position where everything is going smoothly, Which does not bother me, But maybe that's why I am constantly dreaming of being a superhero or a higher Power saving the world, This is a common dream theme of mine. I am always fighting one way or another. Even now that I feel I have found peace with my body whether I am able to do the things I want to or not, I'm still fighting for a better future always. Whether I'm fighting doctors who will not listen to me, Or a system that does not support me. Happy disability pride by the way.

If I'm interpreting what you said correctly, I feel that this a death is a part of me finding out how to live a full life despite my disability, And learning how to work with my new body And the ketamine. Death has not only been recurring theme throughout my life, But especially within this year or 2, Things have changed in ways I never thought what happen. And I've grown in ways that I didn't think were possible any more. These past 2 years have been the years I've achieved life long dreams, And i'd say that's a pretty big change. Anyways thanks again. Apologize for any typos in this, I'm using voice to text due to the chronic pain in my arms. Hope you have a good day.

Hi, it's me again, i have another dream i thought you'd find cool! If you don't want to interpret it because you've done one for me before it's totally fine! Its just so wild i wanted to share.

I was God, or a God, and i came down to Earth. When i looked at Earth and it's people i didn't see a blue planet, i saw a giant room shaped like a cube filled with randomly placed, basically shaped, columns and platforms which people stood on. People looked like people, but they also looked like simplified shapes. It felt like i was looking at code when i looked at the world and people. I placed myself in an upper middle platform in the bottom left of the cube with some people, and when i did i became more human. I held onto a piller and looked over the edge and said something like "wow thats a scary drop" to which someone behind me responded "yup, I'd hate to be pushed of that ledge" i turned towards him and said "now that you said something im worried!" And we laughed, like a big laugh, and i physically felt my real body giggling and smiling in my sleep. Thats when i realized i was in some weird half asleep half awake stage. I could move and feel my real body but i was dreaming. At somepoint i ate some food that tasted SO good i swore it was real. Then i realized i had powers. Powers like whatever i wanted to happen, happened. Snaping away something in the blink of an eye, moving something with my mind, ect. So i decided to help everyone i could. With my powers i protected and saved people from evil forces. One guy had some evil thing in him and tried running right at me but i froze him in time and exercised the thing inside him. With every interaction i make, i made a joke and made myself laugh in the dream and irl. I was GENUINELY funny but don't remember what i said. Eventually these Spanish speaking people spoke to me and i actually understood them! They said something like "death is coming" i said "don't worry, buenos noches". Then a much bigger evil force started taking over Cube Earth, so i did my best to evacuate people. Thats all i remember of that phase. Next i was looking at tapestries, but they represented human souls, and changed everytime i looked at them even though it was the same soul. Looking at the tapestries gave me such understanding and clairty of that person, i knew them like i knew themselves. I think i was guiding them to the afterlife and said things like "i understand, i know you did your best, its okay" and i woke up all the way.

It may be fair to mention, right before falling asleep i was contemplating the afterlife, and my insomnia meds didn't work for a while so I've been up all night and waking up early so im pretty sleep deprived which might be the cause of the vivid dreams I've had lately. The night before was also a strange dream. One thing they both had in common was they were very vivid and actually very coherent and not just a bunch of random stuff.

Anyways, do whatever you want with this info, hope you have a great day!

Heya,

So, yes. This is very, very cool. The theme of "change" is very present here.

I get this too sometimes, especially if I'm having fitful sleep, lol. Anywho- oof. There are definitely some symbols that I think I would not be able to fit into the space of a single tumblr post.

Like, you know, the whole "God" thing. Too much, dude. Too much, lol.

Anywho, I think it's interesting that you said Earth didn't look like 'Earth' but rather a cube/room. Cubes have four corners. Four, in western occultism, is considered a perfect number because it is the number two repeated. It is a solid number of solid foundation. It also represents knowledge and so it makes sense to me that you would have this sensation of looking at things as though they were data. Four is also the number of the elements, and I find it interesting that you found yourself in the lower left corner because, at least in my rituals, that is the corner in which the element of 'earth' resides.

This makes me wonder if you currently feel as though you are growing more knowledgeable in terms of spirituality, or perhaps you're getting better at navigating your own life- the mechanations of your own "world". That right now you have a good foundation, or if you're on the cusp of that kind of experience.

With that in mind, I feel like the "I'd hate to be pushed off that ledge" then acts as a congratulations, and a gentle warning. This, paired with the element of "earth", makes me feel as though you are/have been approaching this knowledge, and stage of your life, in a very grounded manner. Aware of the "fall" if you are to get ahead of yourself, and careful not to stretch yourself too thin (as seen when we compare the exorcism of one man, in comparison to saving the world from destruction- in the first you are capable of the whole of the task at hand, while in the second you focus on doing what you can).

Regardless, however. There will be a change ("death is coming") and this moment will have to pass into the next, as seen in the ultimate destruction of the world itself. As symbolized by the evacuation, you must take what you can in this "world" and go forward into the next "world". To the next moment. Remain grounded. Remember that, no matter how careful you are, eventually you must fall, and that all things end.

Moving onto the soul aspect of all of this- a tapestry is cloth woven to tell a complex story, but yeah, even that can't capture the complexities of the human soul. It's too stagnant. It would have to change. I particularly like that you are so affirming to these souls that you are directing into the afterlife. For me, it feels like you are capable of taking on that change with an air of understanding and humor, as seen initially with you laughing about falling in the beginning. Knowing that things can't stay the same, that energies must be redirected without negating the beauty of what has already transpired. That the tapestry must shift.

Thanks for sharing this, friend. I know it's been a minute and I really appreciate that you thought of sharing this with me.

[cinefairy]

im persisting for a new life. i live in a toxic household w an abusive family, and i don’t really have many friends at the moment. im sorry if you consider that a trauma dump but girl :(. —and i dont feel like acknowledging that im non satisfied rn will affect anything for me personally.

i’m not gonna want to hear “your manifestation is probably not appearing because you’re manifesting from a place of lack/desperation/impatience” from other blogs bc like no shit with these circumstances WHO WOULDNT FEEL THOSE THINGS? that shouldn’t stop anything.

its not the luxury clothing or iphone 12 that im worried about. i know the good life isn’t separate from me but yeah i do *need* a change to that reality ASAP!! like, today. i shifted to my desired reality-like into another house in a different country but it freaked me out so i tapped out. i want shit to appear “naturally”. anyway, ik you have maybe a vagely similar experience/past ??

maybe id like just like some motivation tho eiypo lmao im tryna soothe my human self and ill do other things to help w that too.

i dont want to vainly affirm or use anyyyy more energy to visualize. i dont want to try to convince or delude myself to knowing for a fact. i dont want to deeply relax into the void. i dont want to script. ive done everything i could ever do i know ive done WAY more than enough but i just desire it to appear now, nowww. im so determined but im still human and im tired. the power is within me ive proven it to myself many times. sometimes even tho u know something on a mental level, you still may not feel its a fact in your heart of hearts. thats my current assumption.

but girl i just needed to vent on that. im taking this spiel as proof it’s happening incredibly soon tho. now onto me contradicting all this with my desired self concept lmao. sorry its so long and i understand if you dont wanna post it.

TRUST ME! its okay to vent. its okay to feel your emotions, its okay- don’t ever keep your feelings inside of you for the sake of your manifestation, and i totally relate to how you’re feeling. you venting and releasing how you really feel isnt gonna do shit to your manifestation trust me.

i just want to acknowledge how you’re still so powerful!! even how shitty your life might seem you’re still trying and it makes me happy. from someone who has once been in such terrible circumstances, never give up. if i had gave up i wouldn’t be where i am rn.

1. STEP INTO YOUR POWER

i can already sense your power, i KNOW you’re amazing- i know you’re gonna manifest your desires and ik you’re gonna be okay one day. trust me on that, step into your divine power and know you’re 100% that bitch. mentally and physically because you are. go have self conversations with yourself on how AMAZING you are!

2. SELF CONCEPT

self concept is really important and ik you’re probably sick of hearing self concept too, but self concept really is the foundation of everything in life. self concept helped me in similar circumstances as you if that helps.

“i manifest so quickly and easily”

“nothing stops me from manifesting my desires”

“i love myself, i love what im becoming”

“i am strong, independent and amazing”

“i can easily manifest anything i want”

“i am a powerful manifestor”

“i am confident in my manifesting abilities and i know that my manifestation is inevitable no matter what”

3. KNOW THAT YOU CAN MANIFEST ANYTHING, NO MATTER WHAT.

ik a lot of people say you should ignore the 3D. now i believe you shouldn’t, i mean if you’re in the worst of circumstances..how can you? so just KNOW your manifestation is inevitable and its gonna be happen no matter what.

also you have SAID WHAT YOU WANT. meaning you dont have to do anything else but step into the knowing that your manifestation is inevitable.

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

It is sad that John couldnt find a person to make him happy in the end, he had that burst of joy with Cyn, Paul, Yoko but it didnt last. Cyn seems the least in denial too, Paul and Yoko both like to tell themselves 'John was happy with me!' Yoko is a bit more obnoxious about it sure but still. Thats a lot of pressure for one person though, I mean its impossible to make someone happy 24/7, we've all hurt our lovec ones before. John seeked the perfect angel partner and no one could live up to it

Absolutely ^^^ and we can’t forget Stuart too! (Id throw Pete Shotton in there too, but as far as im aware John had a pretty happy and healthy relationship with Pete most his life - though I haven’t read Petes book yet cause its expensive okkkkk)

ps thats me hinting for someone to let me borrow their copy of petes book

What I find to be a real shame as well is the state of confusion John left a lot of people in. I think even to this day, Paul is somewhat vexed by John, because John was so inconsistent and emotionally abusive. It seems like John could’ve had dinner with Paul one week and made polite conversation with him and everything’s normal - and then a week later Paul might see, “JOHN SAYS PAULS AN ASSHOLE AND HE HATES HIM AND NEVER WANTS TO SEE HIM AGAIN” splashed across every paper! (<< although obviously that headline is hyperbolised). And so, due to the way John was so inconsistent (swinging between expressions of love and hate so frequently), I wouldn’t be surprised if Paul, even to this day, struggles to comprehend and recognise that John loved him - and I don’t even mean “love” there strictly in a mclennon sense, because regardless of what you believe, I think we can all appreciate that they did love each other in some way; be it romantic or platonic, they loved one another.

But its just sad thinking how Paul might still think to himself: “could I have been better to John?” - and maybe he could have, but I personally think that Paul had an enormous amount of care and patience with John, and to some extent, I don’t think that there was anything Paul could’ve done to save his relationship with John. Once John started to turn on Paul and vilify him, that was the end for them; although thats not to say that their relationship couldn’t have been mended had John lived past 40, its more so to say that I think John’s mental well-being was deteriorating so badly in the late 60s, that there was no way Paul could have salvaged the relationship at that time, because John seemed determined to push him away (but also at the same time, he seemed to want to stay bound to Paul; the classic “I hate you, don’t leave me” pattern). Like you said, John was seeking a perfect partner - someone to make him feel whole, and to remove the void within him, expelling the isolation he’d known so well throughout his lifetime. And I think to some degree relationships did make him feel whole, but the problem is that the isolation is still there, underpinning your everyday life. I think also another issue with John is that he might have met someone, and they made him happy and he felt like nothing could ever spoil this feeling - until something did. Until his new “favourite person” said or did something that brought about an uncomfortable, “bad” feeling - and once his “favourite person” had done that, I think Johns mind was prone to completely vilifying and rejecting the person he had loved and idolised so much just moments ago.

I think that Cynthia was able to recognise Johns unhappiness in a way that Paul and Yoko don’t appear to be able to comprehend (although I think that they do at least understand that John was troubled), because Johns abuse towards her was more clear-cut. Anyone whose been emotionally abused knows the struggle of never really being able to accept that it was abuse, because its like, where is the line with emotional abuse? Whereas, whilst ive never been physically abused, I can imagine that it is probably easier to accept it as abuse because the line is clearer. So Cynthia I think could see that John was not happy in their relationship, but also, I think she could also infer that John was mentally unstable, and so she could recognise that this unhappiness was not her fault (<<< or at least I hope she recognised that!)

[samanthadalton]

Star Crossed Lovers (part 14)

Do my eyes deceive me???? part 14???? we did it. im so sorry its taken forever, i will try my best to be more consistent with my writing. love yall for being patient with me it means the most. thank you, thank you. 

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

warnings: angst, swearing (lots of it) 

taglist: @drmmyrs @cloud9in @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @fall3ngods @helpconfusedpersonhere @clowneryme @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @vonda-b-real @uselesslesbianfr @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @somethindarker (sorry again if ive missed anyone, if you wanna be added on this taglist or my general one just let me know 😊) 

word count: 4k (i feel like its short considering how long it took me to write but i still hope you guys enjoy) (also i didnt check for grammatical errors properly so sorry if you find any) 

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

The first steps to moving on 

“Bea please,” Poppy whispers, a repentant look creeping up to her face as she looks away from her girlfriend. “It can’t wait.” 

Bea sighs, her shoulders slumping as the last remains of her anger disseminates from her body. “Okay fine, lead the way babe.” 

Poppy stiffens that the pet name but she doesn’t let her awkwardness slip as she leads Bea to a secluded classroom, far away from prying eyes. Both her and Bea turn to look at each other, and both simultaneously open their mouths to talk. 

“I know you wanted to tell-” 

“We need to talk-” 

Both clamp their lips shut, a mutual smile playing on their lips as they look at one another. 

“You go first,” Poppy gestures towards Bea, as she moves to sit on the edge of a desk. 

Bea inhales softly, her tongue darts out licking her lips as she looks down at the ground, her face calculating. “Why does Chloe hate me?” She looks up to Poppy, her eyes boring into the strawberry blonde’s, sadness swimming inside of them, “I just don’t get what I’ve done for her to hate me.” 

Poppy sighs heavily, her eyes awkwardly darting away from Bea’s. “It’s complicated Bea.” 

“Complicated?” Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I almost just went off on Chloe after she gave her condolences for my mom dying because I just felt she wasn’t genuine and you wanna tell me it's complicated?” 

Poppy sharply inhales, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “it’s because of your mom.” 

Bea scrunches her brows up in confusion, “my mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?” 

Poppy ineptly plays with her hands, not being able to look Bea in her eyes, “at first it was just a classist thing. When you first came to Belvoire, she just wanted to make herself feel superior over you, but in the last year you’ve noticed her getting more mean right?” 

“Right.” Bea stares at Poppy, her expression emotionless. 

“Chloe’s parents have been fighting non stop recently, and it’s been affecting her a lot.” 

Bea’s brows furrow in confusion, “what does that have to do with me or my mom?” 

“Just let me explain first before you react, please.” Bea’s eyes bore into Poppy’s for a few seconds before she nods understandingly. “Her dad cheated on her mom. A lot of times actually. But he was blackmailed by one of the women he slept with.” Poppy pauses for a few seconds, “your mom.” 

Bea lets out a shaky breath, her eyes blinking in disbelief, “no, you’re lying.” 

Poppy nervously bites her bottom lip, “look Bea-” 

“How long have you known?”

Poppy’s face scrunches up in anger, “this isn’t my fault Bea. I only found out that day I went to talk to Chloe about us. Chloe made me promise not to say anything to you-” 

“Poppy! My mom OD and I don’t even know why. And now you’re telling me she was blackmailing the St James family and it doesn’t occur to you that might have had something to do with her death?” 

“They’re not the fucking mafia Bea, jesus. They were trying to settle it quietly by giving your mom some money and make her sign some stuff so she couldn't threaten them anymore.” 

The devastating ramification of Poppy’s admission hangs in the air as the two girls let the words settle into them. “Chloe really is sorry about your mom Bea, we all are.” 

Bea sighs, staring off into space, as a few tears begin to fill up in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” Bea begins sniffling, but Poppy makes no movement to console her girlfriend. Bea notices and her expression sobers, “so, uh what did you wanna tell me?” Bea sniffs a few more times, before looking up at Poppy, giving her a small encouraging smile. 

Poppy looks away, guilt creeping up on her face, as she tries her damndest not to catch Bea’s small smile on her face. “Bea…”. Bea carefully assesses her girlfriend’s demeanour, noticing the similar body language during when they first asked to take a break, she thinks back to the last couple of days, she had barely heard from her girlfriend, and now she’s not affectionate, even after she almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway and her smile drops. “We have to break up,” Poppy says, her tone so monotone and dry as if she didn’t mean the words she was saying at all. 

“I don’t understand,” is all Bea can muster, evidently hurt by Poppy’s admission. Poppy winces slightly at Bea’s tone, finally breaking her robotic demeanour as she lets out a few sniffles. “So is that it? We have to break up,” Bea retorts mockingly, “is that all I get after all these years?” 

“Bea..” Poppy reaches out but Bea immediately takes a step back, tears flooding in her eyes. 

“No,” she holds her hands up, “I don’t get it, things are going good, or at least whatever twisted definition of good we’ve made up. Where the hell did this come from?” 

“Bea my dad-” 

“Of course! Hayden Min fucking Sinclair had something to do with this. Why do you still live under his shadow? You talk all this shit about breaking out of your father’s prison and wanting to achieve your own goals but he sucks you back in.” 

“That’s not fair Bea,” Poppy interjects, balling her hands up into fists in an attempt to subdue her trembling, “my dad has given me so much and he’s threatening to take it all away.” 

“Yeah, all you have to do is get rid of me. Me or the Min Sinclair name.” 

“Bea this is the life I have, okay I’m not like you, I’m not built like you.” 

“So what? I can grow up without a dad and now without a mom but it’s okay because I’m used to pain and disappointment?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, you have a plan, things you can achieve, I need the Min Sinclair name, I’m nothing without it.” 

“Wow.” Bea shakes her head, “So I just meant nothing?” Bea wildy throws her arms in the air, anger bubbling under the surface of her demeanour. “We’ve practically been together since we were kids. And you’re just gonna fucking throw that away? And for what? Fuck you Poppy.” 

Poppy takes half a step back, dumbfounded by Bea’s outburst. She scrunches her brows, evidently hurt, “you don’t get it Bea. Even though your mom wasn’t the best, she still supported you, even if you didn’t know about it. My dad he- my mom what would she think?” 

“Your mom? Poppy what kind of shit is your dad brainwashing you with? Your mom is dead! You have no idea how she would react to having a gay daughter, but I know she’s probably disappointed in you.” 

“Fuck you Bea.”Poppy runs out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face, leaving Bea on her own. 

“Shit,” Bea whispers to herself before throwing a bunch of punches at the wall, each more cathartic than the last until she can’t physically hold herself up anymore. Bea defeatedly slides into a chair, cradling her head in between her hands, letting the tears free fall, as reality begins setting in that she lost the one thing in the world that was her everything. Poppy Min Sinclair was her rock, the girl who she gave her heart to, the love of her life and just in a matter of moments it was over. Maybe it was too good to be true. The beautiful, perky popular rich girl and the girl who had almost nothing, complete polar opposites, it never should’ve worked. But time and time again when faced against the world they persevered so why was this time different? Poppy had chosen her namesake over the love of her life. She chose the life of glitz and glamour over the girl who gave her her entire heart. Bea feels her entire world crashing down, how much more heartbreak could she take? Was her life always going to be so hard? So full of hurt? Full of pain? She winces at the thought, her head hammering as she comes to the realisation that she understood her mother’s pain more than she thought. 

…. 

Bea hops off her bike, parking it in front of her house, as she pulls her phone out to look at the time. ‘It’s lunch time,’ she thinks to herself. After the day she had today, school wasn’t the best option for her right now. She makes her way to her front door but stops in her tracks when she realises her front door is slightly ajar. Her survival instincts kick in as she effortlessly pulls out her pocket knife, carefully pushing the door fully open. As she steps into the living room, her eyes dart to the closed door of her mother’s room, but when she hears a creaking sound coming towards her bedroom, she cautiously moves towards the source of the noise, the grip on her knife tightening. As she creeps up, she sees the door of her room half opened, a hooded figure standing by her bed with their back facing her. 

Bea stealthily sneaks up to the figure placing the knife a few inches from their throat before lowering her voice to a threatening tone, “who are you and what the fuck are you doing?” The figure gasps, dropping a bag that’s in their hands with a deafening thud before raising their hands in a sign of surrender. 

“It’s me, it’s me,” the voice whimpers out. 

“AJ?” Bea raises her eyebrows, retracting the knife from his throat while pulling down his hood with her other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bea takes a step back while AJ scrambles grabbing the bag he just dropped moments before. When he turns to face Bea, his eyes are wide, filled with fear as he clutches the bag closely to his chest. 

“I have to go,” he says as he attempts to run out of the room, but Bea pulls him back, her face crumpled in suspicion. 

“No we’re not doing this, give me the bag now,” Bea snatches the bag out of his hands before he can protest and opens the zipper to find it filled with cash. She grits her teeth, anger settling into her features as she whips her head up to AJ, “is this my fucking money?” 

“Bea, I- I can explain-” 

“What the fuck AJ!” Bea throws the bag onto the bed, the cash spilling out as she jabs an accusing finger at AJ’s chest. “You’re stealing from me now? I haven’t seen you in god knows how long, you don’t call, text nothing. Even after everything that’s been happening in the last few weeks but you have the audacity to fucking steal from me? Money that I’ve spent years saving? Money that I’ve bussed my fucking ass off for, are you serious right now?” Bea’s voice is filled with rage as she’s practically screaming, her voice now thundering. AJ winces, guiltily averting his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Bea’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry about your mom Bea, I wanted to visit-” AJ croaks out.

“But you didn’t,” Bea interjects, her voice lowered but filled with hurt. “And now you’re taking money- I mean what is so important you had to steal from me.” 

AJ paces towards the bed, hanging his head in shame, when he speaks his voice is quiet, full of fear, “I’m in some bad shit Bea. These guys aren’t playing around.” 

“I told you not to fall into the wrong crowd, I warned you this shit would happen.” 

“Bea please, I’ll pay you back I just need it.” 

“No! What the fuck, when will you pay me back huh? This is my college money, I’m not letting you give that away to your crackhead friends.” 

“Bea please,” AJ clasps his hands together, his tone pleading, “I don’t know what to do.” 

“AJ I have too much shit on my plate right now, I can’t deal with this. You need to find something else, I can’t help you.” 

AJ’s face pales but he stands up, and makes his way towards the door, before leaving he turns to look back at Bea, “I’m sorry about everything.” 

Bea keeps her eyes trained on her bed where the money is sprawled all over the mattress, “yeah me too,” she replies quietly. Bea hears the front door close and she collapses to the ground, letting the tears flow. 

……

A few days later, Bea sits in her dark living room, curtains shut and lights completely off as she wallows in her sadness, drinking from a bottle of cheap beer, as she stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, so drowned in her thoughts she doesn’t hear the resounding knocks on her door until she hears a voice call out, “Bea! Are you there?” 

Bea crumples her brows, forcing herself to stand as she makes her way to the door, she wearily makes her way to her front door only slightly opening the door before poking her head out. “Veronica?” Veronica gives the girl a wide smile before pushing the door more open, ushering the figure behind her into the house too, “Carter? What are you guys doing here?’ 

Veronica looks around the dark room, noticing the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, “yikes, drinking on your own on a friday night Hughes? That’s really sad.” Carter stands near the edge of the living room, as if he’s an explorer, his eyes darting all over the living room as he assesses this new environment. 

Bea on the other hand scowls at Veronica, “what the hell do you want Veronica, I’m not in the mood.” 

Veronica frowns slightly, pouting her lips together, “we heard about you and Poppy.” 

Bea rolls her eyes, “yeah well I’m trying to forget about her.” Bea picks up her beer bottle from the ground and makes a show by exaggeratingly drinking from the bottle until it's empty. She discards the empty bottle along with the other ones before turning to look at Veronica and Carter, “so if you’ll excuse me.” 

Veronica steps towards Bea, wrapping her hand around the brunette’s arm, “we’re not here for Poppy stupid, we’re here for you.” 

Bea raises an eyebrow, “for me?” 

Veronica turns to look at Carter, beckoning him forward, Carter breaks out of reverie and clears his throat, “yeah uh, we wanted to take you to a party.” 

“A party?” Bea looks between them confused, “I’m not that interested guys.”

“Wait, wait, wait Bea,” Veronica pleads, pulling Bea closer to her, “you’ve never been to a Belvoire party and the year is almost over, we thought we should take you to at least.” 

“I don’t know guys,” Bea says skeptically, “a lot of people don’t like me.” 

“Who gives a shit? You just had your heart broken and you need to let loose.” 

Bea sighs, pulling away from Veronica, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“Come on, it beats drinking in the dark on your own.” 

Bea sighs, dropping her shoulders, “what about uh Poppy?” 

“Poppy?” Veronica arches a brow, “her and Chloe are staying in tonight, she said she needed to catch up on homework or something.” 

Bea purses her lips together in thought before sighing,  “fine.” Veronica cheers, “but,” Bea over enunciates, “only for a few hours and if I don’t like it I’m going home.” 

“Okay, deal,” Veronica squeals, wrapping Bea in a big hug. Carter chuckles as Veronica gestures for him to join the hug, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the two girls, before pulling away. 

“Okay, I’ll wait in the car while you girls get ready. Just uh don’t take too long.”

Veronica playfully rolls her eyes as she Bea towards her bedroom, yelling back “thanks Carter.” Giddy, she rushes to Bea’s closest, assessing her clothes until she finds a short red dress hidden in the back. “This!” 

“No, no, no,” Bea shakes her head, pulling the dress out of the ombre-haired girl’s hands. 

“Why not? It would look so hot on you,” Veronica’s eyes trail down Bea’s body, as she sharply inhales. “Bea, you’re single and sexy, stop holding yourself back okay?” 

“I’m not,” Bea pushes back defensively, “I just-” she sighs heavily, “no one at Belvoire has ever seen me dressed up, I’m just- I’m nervous I guess.” 

“Then we have to show them what they’ve been missing for the last three years,” Veronica gives Bea a devilish smile as she takes the dress from Bea’s hands, sliding the dress off the hanger before handing it over to Bea. 

“Uh you gonna stay in the room?” Bea nervously wrings her hands together. 

“Why, are you offering a show?” Veronica lifts a teasing brow, noticing Bea’s cheeks redden slightly, which prompts her to let out a small laugh, “I’m kidding, don’t worry I won’t look.” Veronica makes a show of raising her hands to cover her eyes. Bea laughs as she slips out of her clothes and into the dress, she awkwardly clears her throat, grabbing Veronica’s attention. 

“Hey, uh help a girl out with her zipper?” 

“Sure,” Veronica moves to stand behind Bea, her hands ghosting around Bea’s exposed back, her breath momentarily taken away. She sturdies herself and places one of her hands on the small of the brunette’s back while the other moves towards the zipper, zipping the girl up. Bea smooths the dress down with her hands appreciating herself in the mirror, “you look gorgeous,” Veronica whispers into the shell of her ear. 

Bea’s face completely flushes red and slightly jerks at Veronica’s admission, “uhh thanks.” 

Veronica notices the awkward shift in the atmosphere, and promptly changes the subject, “so where’s your sister?” 

Bea sits in front of her mirror, a comb in her hand as she brushes her long locks, “she’s staying at a friend’s tonight.” 

“Cool,” Veronica answers back but her tone falls flat. The girls bask in the awkward silence as Bea continues to get ready but when Veronica notices Bea struggling to do her winged eyeliner she breaks the silence. “Hey do you need help?” 

Bea smiles bashfully, “yeah.” She rubs the back of her head with her hand, “sorry Poppy used to help me with my makeup.” 

“Right,” Veronica’s face slightly falls but she quickly covers it up, ushering Bea to come and sit on the bed. “Come on, I don’t bite,” Veronica bites the bottom of her lip, “unless you want me too.” Bea laughs but obliges sitting on the edge of the bed. Veronica clambers onto her lap, her thighs settling on the sides of Bea’s legs, and in response, Bea’s eyes widen in surprise but she remains glued in her spot, too shocked to move. 

“V, what are you doing?” Bea whispers, her voice attempting to come across as reprimanding but it comes out as breathy. 

“Relax, I’m just doing your eyeliner.” Veronica plucks the wand from Bea’s hand and angles herself close to the brunette’s face, as she begins drawing on the wings on Bea’s eyelids. Bea steadies herself, as she feels the heat of Veronica’s body so close to hers and when Veronica is finished with putting the finishing touches on her eyelids, she hops off Bea’s lap, making her way towards the desk, scuffling through Bea’s makeup bag before taking up her place on Bea’s lap once again. “Now I think this colour would look good on you,” 

“You don’t think it’s too much red?” 

“Oh babe, red means power, dominance, you don’t wanna be thinking about Poppy the entire night, you wanna have all eyes on you Bea Hughes.” Veronica uncaps the lipstick, her eyes burning into Bea’s lips as she carefully applies the red colour to her lips. “Perfect.” 

Bea smacks her lips together, evenly spreading the red on her lips. “Thanks V.” 

Veronica’s eyes dart to Bea’s lips, her tongue slightly running along her bottom lips before she breaks out of her reverie flashing Bea a smirk, “don’t thank me yet, thank me when you’re having the time of your life at the party.” Veronica slides off Bea’s lap, holding her hand out, “come on let’s finish up because Carter’s been waiting for a while.” Bea smiles up at Veronica, taking her hand as she lets the ombre-haired girl pull her off the bed, as they continue getting ready. 

………

Once they arrive at the party, Carter drops the girls off at the front of the huge house before telling them he will park the car. Veronica’s gaze darts to Bea, who’s nervously toying with her hands, looking up at the intimidating house, the lights blaring and as the music echoes throughout, the bass thumping in their ears. Noticing the nerves settling into her, Veronica slips into Bea's, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just a bunch of drunk, preppy uptight teenagers, nothing you don't usually face everyday.” 

Bea lets out a small laugh, “just in a big ass house,” she jests. 

“Yeah, just in a big ass house,” she gives Bea a light squeeze as she starts pulling Bea into the house with her. Automatically, they’re met with stares and whispers, as the students look astonished at Bea, some appraising her outfit, while others are confused about her presence. “Hey, just stay with me okay?” Veronica whispers over to Bea. Bea nods, her eyes roaming the room. “I’ll get us drinks.” The ombre-haired girl gives Bea a reassuring pat on her arm and leaves her side and Bea walks into the living room, observing the difference between the vibes of the party between the north and the south. Her thoughts then move to think about Poppy, how Poppy would love going to parties in the north but Bea couldn’t find the appeal in it. Poppy. Poppy, who broke up with her. She’s interrupted from her thoughts by a tap of her shoulder, and Bea turns around to see Veronica offering her a red solo cup, Bea takes a sip and winces. 

“What the hell is this crap?” 

“Yeah for a bunch of rich kids, their taste in beer isn’t the best,” Veronica jokes, slightly nudging Bea. 

“We have way better beer in the south side.” 

“That I can agree with.” Veronica looks over to Bea who looks lost in thought, “hey what are you thinking about?” 

Bea sighs heavily, “Poppy,” she mutters. 

Veronica nods once, “right, yeah.” 

“Poppy would’ve loved a party like this, big fancy house an-” 

“Bea,” Veronica says, her tone slightly agitated, “this,” she gestures around the room, “is a no Poppy zone. That means we don’t think about Poppy, only about fun.” 

Bea nods, “fun. I can do that.” Veronica lifts her cup in the air, “what are we cheering to?” 

Veronica gives Bea a smile, “here’s to the first steps in moving on.” The girls tap their cups together before downing their drinks. “Now if we wanna get drunk, we’re gonna need a lot more of these.” 

The party is still ongoing, and Bea sits in a circle with a few girls from the volleyball team and a few of the football team and other people she doesn’t recognise while Veronica sits beside her. 

“Bea you look so pretty,” one of her teammates says. 

“Yeah Bea your makeup is literally gorgeous,” another chimes in. 

“Who knew strip tease can clean up well,” Ford jests, but Bea slumps her shoulders a little, remembering that these people are not her friends. 

Carter enters the circle slapping Ford on the head as he goes, “shut up, Hughes is cool.” Bea gives Carter a nod of appreciation before looking down at the drink in her hands. Her thoughts move a million miles a minute, but there’s a constant one stuck in her brain, Poppy.

Veronica looks over at Bea, frowning. “Hey come with me.” She stands, excusing herself from the group and Bea follows her close behind. 

“Where are we going?” 

“We’re gonna play a private game of truth or drink.” 

[wrathandgreed]

(I hope requests are still open) So ive been thinking. How about the brothers reaction to MC taking a large step away from them when ever one of them raises their hand up. It could be as simple as a high five. MC used to be in a abusive relationship and is paranoid about getting hit

Note: (For the record, I don’t know if you sent me this on purpose - I’ve never done requests; I’ve literally just put out my very first OM headcanons. But I figured I could try. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but a number of my friends have. I really hope I can do this one respect - if anything about this is not on the level, please let me know! Also, if I missed a trigger warning in the tags, or tagged this wrong, let me know. Also, for the record, I tend to like soft!Brothers and I really wanted them to try and be better - not put the onus on MC to “get over it” or anything.)

Second note: After writing this, I’m not sure that most of these guys would be a good choice for an abuse survivor! 

Third note: I am NOT good at keeping things short and, as usual, I went overboard with Asmodeus. Like, it should be its own fic at this point. But write what you want to read, right?

Warnings: references to domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. References to suicide baiting. Uncensored swearing.

~5K words

Lucifer

A strange choice; his perfectionism and exacting behavior sometimes make you remember how it was back in the human world; everything had to be JUST SO….or else.

And he’s threatened to kill you. Twice.

But there’s something inherently decent about him - and you live for the rare moments he laughs.

His perfectionism usually isn’t even about you, so you just kind of….ignore it.

You’re doing some of your RAD homework in Lucifer’s study.

It’s quiet there.

And, while he won’t do the work for you, he’ll definitely help when you’re stuck.

Also you can give him tea and soothing when he (inevitably)  gets upset at his paperwork - Mammon’s bills, Asmo’s bills, Satan’s bills (hey, dark magic books are expensive).

You start hearing the shifting and muttering that herald the beginning of the rant.

You gather the tea and walk towards his desk.

“Devil’s sake!” Lucifer suddenly snaps out, slamming hand on his desk as he reads yet another ridiculous piece of paper.

It’s not at you, the anger isn’t at you, you KNOW it’s not at you, but you freeze anyway.

Slammed hands on desks, punched holes in walls, hands on you, always hands - 

The cup of tea hits the floor and you’re out of the room before Lucifer can even look up.

He’s seen it all in your paperwork - the police reports, the restraining order, the lists of injuries - so he puts it all together before his study door closes behind you.

He knows better than to go after you immediately. You’ll want some solitude, some quiet on your own, to steady yourself a little.

If he goes after you now, it might frighten you more. Looks like hunting.

You need to know he’s calm, that he’s not acting or reacting out of emotion.

He takes his time cleaning up the spilled tea, straightening his papers.

When he shows up at your room, he has a mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. You made a mess in his study, and he’s such a stickler for everything being neat. He was angry before, but he’ll be even more angry now.

“No, I’m sorry,” he returns, and offers you the chocolate.

(You blink once. Has the Avatar of Pride ever apologized before? If so, it was never in your hearing.)

The two of you talk quietly for a time. He insists that you don’t need to apologize - ever. He insists that, while he appreciates the tea-and-break routine, it’s 100% not your responsibility to control his anger. It’s his. He says that his anger isn’t good for him anyway (just look at Satan) and he needs to take a break when that hot feeling starts. 

Maybe he should start scheduling breaks; setting timers on his D.D.D. so that he no longer works long enough at once to let it all get to him.

He doesn’t want you afraid of him.

Mammon

Mammon is pretty much the only demon who HASN’T threatened your life. He often sounds irritated, but he’s never even sounded angry at you.

If anything, he’s a mush and an abuse victim himself. So he gets where you’re coming from, and tries really hard.

So you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

But….he moves too quickly. He’s constantly jumping from one idea to another, one topic to another, one emotion to another. And that’s just emotionally.

You can’t trust where his hands will be. Ever. And that’s not a sex thing.

Sometimes, his protection of you makes you feel safe. If anyone hurts you, Mammon will hurt them a thousand times worse.

He’s funny, and his hands on you are gentle, and once you tell him about your past, he tries really hard not to go back to his “stupid human” habit, because it hurts your feelings.

But sometimes, his protection feels like obsession. Why were you talking to that guy? C’mere, you’re MY human.

Then, inevitably, the tug on your hand or arm or waist, pulling you closer.

It starts simply enough.

You’re playing video games in his room. He’s not as much of a gamer as Levi, but he enjoys them.

Especially ones where you can be competitive or drive cars really fast.

He’s been getting more and more excited, coiled like a spring. And it’s from enjoyment, not anger, but that level of energy, in your experience, explodes at some point.

You get quieter, but that only makes him more boisterous. He wants you to join in the fun! C’mon MC, did you see that?! It was awesome!

After a really impressive win, he shouts in triumph and suddenly his hand is in front of your face for a high-five.

You recoil and hit the floor, crab-crawling backwards before you can stop yourself.

His look of complete confusion, in different circumstances, might be funny. He actually looks at his hand like he doesn’t recognize it.

He drops to the floor too, “Babe? What’s wrong? Y’okay?” And he reaches out a hand towards you.

When you flinch, he gets it.

He sits on the floor, stuttering out apologies, not even finishing one sentence before starting another. He makes sure he’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands - non threatening, leaning away, hands not hidden, but not prominent, and in a position it would take him time to move from. 

When you start crying, he can’t maintain that pose and crawls towards you, pulling you into a hug.

If you resist, you know he’ll let you go. And that’s why you just curl into him instead, crying out on his shoulder while he holds you close - but not tightly.

“I jus’ need ya to talk to me….let me know if I’m gettin’ to be too much. I know I’m loud. Just….. jus’ remind me, I’ll never be mad.”

Leviathan

Boy already has anger problems.

Envy’s kind of prone to it, you know?

On the one hand, he literally attacked you over a piece of TSL memorabilia.

On the other, he’s generally harmless the rest of the time.

He’s meek and shy and terrified of touching you - so, 95% of the time, you feel super safe with him.

When you wake with a nightmare, when something jump-starts your fear response, he talks you through it, easily abandoning whatever game or anime he’s involved in.

He’ll only touch you when you ask, or when you reach for him first.

But then there’s the MMOs.

You know you should leave when he starts getting mad. Not in a victim-blame sense, but for your own mental health it’s probably not a good idea to be around him when he raids.

He ALWAYS gets mad.

You’re sitting in his room, so involved in your handheld that you forget it’s his raiding night.

(Usually you make study plans with Satan, or shopping plans with Asmo on his raiding nights. You don’t want him to give them up; he enjoys them, but it’s not good for you to be around.)

After finally completing a tough level, you pop your headphones off just in time to hear Levi swear loudly.

You go still as a string of swear-filled trash talk fills the room. Things you’d never expect shy, needy Levi to say. 

You know it really is just trash-talk - the threats of violence are just too absurd. Rip off their arms and use their own fingers to bowl their skull like a bowling ball? Really?

Also this is LEVI. Levi? The demon who needed you to taunt Mammon about his credit card because he couldn’t do it himself? He might be Admiral of Hell’s Navy and all, but he’s not exactly threatening.

You get to your feet, a little shaken but ready to just walk out of the room. It’s raid night, and this is why you don’t hang out on raid nights. You’re not comfortable around other people’s anger.

You’re halfway across the room when Levi suddenly shouts in frustration and throws his controller on the floor.

And you’re out the door.

Levi just glimpses you as he’s reaching to pick up his miraculously-unshattered controller from the floor.

“Henry?” He calls out, just a second too late.

With only one moment of hesitation, he logs out of his raid and goes to follow you.

You had less than ten seconds head start, but it takes him almost twenty minutes to find you, sitting out in the garden, gazing at nothing.

“MC?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to sneak up on you.

A single blink, and the tiniest flash of fear - he left his game to follow you. 

Calculation: extreme concern - or extreme anger. 

Conclusion: Undetermined.

So you wait.

“Are you ok?”

Okay, so not mad. “Aren’t you raiding?” You ask, instead of answering. You’re not ok, but you’re also not in the mood to talk about it.

“I, uh, h-had a, uh, power outage?” Even he doesn’t sound convinced, and you snort. Levi only has three modes: simple, stuttering, and verbose. Thankfully he goes with simple. “You ran out. I was worried.”

You debate brushing his concern off, but he deserves better than that.

“I’m not good with anger. Even if it’s not directed at me.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses as he considers. He knows the basics of what’s happened. “I - I mean, I could, you know, NOT - “

“No,” you say quickly and lean in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Do your raids, make stupid threats to stupid players. Just….warn me to leave first?”

Levi nods, but he skips the rest of his raid to stargaze with you in the garden, arms wrapped around you from behind as he points out different Devildom stars and constellations to you. You get a lecture on how Devildom stars are used in Devildom sailing. It’s actually kind of interesting.

Satan

Okay, seriously? The Avatar of Wrath? Author speaking here, I literally can’t picture a worse combination than an MC who’s still recovering from domestic abuse to date the AVATAR OF WRATH.

Like, yeah, he has good control over himself, but he also loses his temper in a moment’s notice.

He has CANONICALLY tortured people for calling him strange.

He flips out with no warning and destroys parts of the house and his brothers just let him do it because he’s too powerful to control when he rages.

I can absolutely see MC falling for the quiet intelligence, the consideration, and so forth, but witnessing one (1) single rage should be enough to tell them that this relationship won’t be good for their mental health.

Let’s not even talk about the (again, canonical) desire for domination, power play, pet play, etc, that kind of defines our boy.

I mean, I love Satan. Out of all the bros, he’s the only one I could imagine legit dating in real life.

But I’m a little ball of rage myself, and I have no problem with anger, mine or anyone else’s.

And the fandom (including me) can totally play cute and love on their “soft little angy boi” all they want, and he definitely has soft, sensitive sides, and I may actively choose to ignore the whole domination/power play/etc when I fic or headcanon because I really love soft!Satan….. but he’s not.

I can’t even make a headcanon, because I cannot picture a situation in which this is actually GOOD for MC.

Because no matter how hard he’ll try and control it, and how much his rage probably won’t be directed at them, I just keep picturing “It won’t happen again” except it will, and it’ll just wind up being flashbacks to the number of times “It won’t happen again” ended in black eyes or an ER visit back in the human world.

And MC walking on eggshells for eternity to avoid setting him off, and how is that healthy?

Asmodeus

Another decent choice for MC, at least on the surface.

King of consent over here, at least how I picture him. Especially for someone he cares about.

Always accepts “no” about literally anything. Don’t want sex? We’ll cuddle. Cuddling a little confining? Holding hands is cool. Really don’t want to be touched at all right now? Gossip and tea! 

You were coming to really care about the Avatar of Lust, and you believed what Simeon said about him - how much he desperately needed love and affection. You got it; you needed some, too. 

I mean, even if he’d been a bit of a jerk, he’d warmed up significantly since the pact, so new that it still burned on your skin, was formed.

But even Asmodeus wasn’t without faults. However much he focuses on love, he can sometimes, really be….mean.

You’re standing on a balcony in Diavolo’s castle, having escaped for a few moments.

He’d always been catty, gossipy, filled with drama, but the genuine affection and likability of him sometimes made you ignore it.

His constant mocking of Luke you could put down to the whole angel/demon conflict. 

His occasional snapping or poking at his brothers you could put down to being stuck in the same house with the same people for literal eons.

The only thing that might make up for your awful existence is if you just ended it.

The words haunt you as you stand looking up at Devildom’s endless nighttime.

How many times did you hear similar words yourself? How useless you were, how much of a burden, no way you’d survive on your own without him, and he didn’t even want you that much. Why didn’t you just go kill yourself?

Dammit, you think to yourself as Asmo steps out on to the balcony.

“Darling! Why are you out here all alone? Or are you waiting for some company?”

When he goes to put his arms around you, you just say “no.” Simply, quietly, emotionlessly.

Asmo circles around to look at you. “Something wrong, sweetness?”

You take a breath. Another. You consider swallowing it, again, don’t want to start a fight. Back down, put on a smile, ignore it.

But realize you can’t. You spent years dealing with this crap, and you’re not going to do it again.

“You’re mean, Azzy.” Your voice is quieter than you expected. You look up into the demon’s eyes. To his credit, he looks deeply confused and, as you take a step away from him, hurt. Before he can open his mouth, you continue, “How could you say that to Mammon?”

“Are you defending MAMMON?” He asks, torn between incredulity and anger.

“Right now? Yes. But also Luke, Lucifer, and everyone else you talk shit to. Or about. He’s your brother. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that out of someone you love?”

Dismissively, “Oh, if it actually bothered him, he’d - “

“What? Beat you up? That’s not like him. So he takes it. And takes it, and takes it, until, because it’s all he hears, he believes it. And then why fight back? Why defend yourself, if you’re such a piece of shit? You deserve it, after all, right?”

You don’t even realize it, but you’re crying by this point. And you’re mad. All the mad you couldn’t fling at your abuser before is filling you now. You don’t even know if you’re talking about Mammon or yourself anymore. Maybe both of you.

“And even though he’s beaten down, you keep going. When he won’t respond to the usual anymore, when that doesn’t seem to hurt him, rile him up, you go worse. You told your brother, who you claim to love, to kill himself. We’re barely even friends. So what happens when I annoy you? Should I just go die now, save you the trouble of telling me to do it later?”

You step right up to him, into his personal space, almost nose to nose, and stare directly into his red-yellow eyes. “Is this who you are, Asmodeus?”

Asmo has gone from defensive; incredulous and angry, to baffled, hurt and worried in just a few minutes. But at your last, pointed question, he jerks his head back as though you slapped him. Not knowing what to say or do, he reaches for you again, but you dodge his hand and brush past him back into the castle.

You get Solomon, the only one who won’t ask questions, to switch rooms with you. (Luke is thrilled; teaching him to play gin rummy actually cheers you up a little.)

For a few weeks, you and Asmodeus pass each other in the House without speaking.  Then, one evening, there’s a knock on your door and Asmo slides into your room.

He looks….well, not awful; he could never look awful. But the glow is gone from his skin and, unless you’re mistaken, he hasn’t bothered doing his hair. He looks like he’s missed some sleep.

You look up from your homework and watch him. Silently. It’s not your job to fill the silence anymore.

More than most of them, Asmo despises being vulnerable. But it’s fix this or not, and the pact is pushing him to be on good terms. At least, he blames the pact. It’s easier than acknowledging how much the weeks of silence have worn on him. How awful it was watching you walk to class with Mammon instead of him. 

And no matter what, he values honesty in his relationships, no matter what kind of relationship. So he would be honest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Lean back in your chair, hands folded. Waiting.

“I don’t know….if that’s who I am. Maybe it is.”

“Why are you here, Asmo? What do you want?”

“I want you to stop ignoring me!”

Steady face. “I spent too many years having someone talk to me the way you spoke to your brother. The rest of it - the gossip, the side comments, the cattiness…. it’s not your best side. In fact, it’s pretty unattractive when it’s mean, but I could handle it. But I can’t handle cruelty. I don’t want to be around it anymore.”

A pause. “What is my best side then?”

Disgusted, you chuck a pen in his direction. “Fuck’s sake, Asmo. Get out.”

“No! Not, not that. If that’s my bad side, the **unattractive** part, then what’s the other half?”

You search his face, but he doesn’t seem to be fishing for compliments. If anything, he looks….lost. Confused. And you wonder if anyone’s ever said anything to him, good or bad, about who he was; not what he looked like or how he fucked. 

It’s not your responsibility to psychoanalyze a demon, you think to yourself. But you’re not someone to walk away. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be thousands of years old, and know less about themselves than you know about yourself in just a few decades. And you have nothing to lose by being kind.

“You can be wonderfully kind, Asmo, and generous. You want to see the beauty in everyone and everything. As nasty as you can be with it, I’ll give you points for honesty. You connect with people, and the times you’re actually genuinely interested in them is….charming.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Then he nods, as if he’s made a decision. “Okay. Tomorrow, after RAD, do you want to go for bubble tea?” At your confusion, he just smiles and continues, “It’s like skin care, isn’t it? Attractiveness requires effort, darling, until it becomes habit. If I want to be attractive inside as well as out, I’ll have to practice the good things, so they outweigh the bad. I can’t do that alone. I need a practice partner who won’t tolerate failure, right? At least until it’s habit.”

You feel your entire brain have to reboot before you can give a coherent response. 

“Tomorrow. One hour. I have papers due.” You wait until he leaves your room before you smile.

Beelzebub

Probably the best choice for this MC.

The most emotionally intelligent of his brothers.

Also the most sincerely kind and gentle.

But also, like Satan, prone to sudden outbursts and rages. They’re all food-related (or, rather, lack-of-food-related), but they’re there.

A smart MC always carries snacks while dating Beel. Phone, wallet, keys, fried bat wings.

Strangely, though, the food-induced rages don’t really bother you. It’s not anger, really, and it’s never once been directed at you. And, unlike back in the human world, there’s a concrete way to help: feed him.

Today you have a whole backpack full of snacks.

You’re with Belphie, watching one of Beel’s games at RAD.

(You’re not sure Belphie wants to be there, but you’re not allowed out alone, and Belphie decided to take you - keep you safe and support his brother. Two birds, one Belphie.)

Belphie tends to nap against your shoulder any time the ref goes to make a call, but he’s somehow always awake to clap for his brother. 

(You stand on your chair and cheer, but that’s you.)

The game is a close one; double overtime. Even Belphie is too tense to sleep towards the end.

And at the end of double overtime, Beel manages the single extra goal that results in victory.

You cheer yourself hoarse for your demon boyfriend.

The whole stadium is crazy, so you hang back and wait. Belphie hates crowds and you’re not keen on them yourself. It’s going to take awhile for Beel to make it through the crowd to you anyway.

You’re standing in the aisle, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a loud shout and arms wrap around you from behind and lift you up.

You gasp, and your scream strangles in your throat so what comes out of you is nothing more than a squeak. Your phone goes flying.

You’re frozen for a moment as panic surges. You want to fight and you’re fighting your own brain to push the panic into your limbs so you can fight for yourself.

You vaguely feel a tugging and you hear someone - Belphie? - insisting that you be put down and then your feet are on the ground but there’s no such thing as your legs and you start to fall before the same arms help you gently sit. The ground is gross, but you’ll only care about the damage to your skirt later.

Everything is fuzzy and confusing; you’re not even sure of what you’re looking at until your vision is filled with blue and violet.

You know that swirl of color. That’s a SAFE color, and you start feeling your poor brain start to work again.

You blink into your boyfriend’s blue-violet eyes; you realize he’s cupping your face with his hands and the weird underwater noises start to sound like his voice. You realize, very belatedly, that what probably happened was Beel lifting you up in a victory hug.

“M’okay,” you say, but it sounds robotic. It takes a few more seconds - you don’t know how many - for all of your senses and brain to actually begin working in sync again. You start hearing the sounds of the crowd departing the stadium, and you hear Beel continuing to say your name and trying to get you to answer questions. You almost smile; but smiling wouldn’t make any sense.

“I’m okay,” you say, and you must sound a little more convincing this time because Beel looks relieved. He shoots a few more questions at you, and you realize they’re the kinds of questions people get asked when someone thinks they have a concussion or head trauma.

Your answers satisfy him, so Beel helps you to your feet. 

“What was that?” He asks. “Low blood sugar? Are you hungry?”

You have to smile at his very-typical diagnosis. A little sugar wouldn’t hurt, though. For some reason, eating grounds you after something like this. You dig a chocolate bar out of your Backpack of Snacks (Snackpack?) and hand the rest to him.

He impatiently takes a bag of chips out of it but doesn’t open it. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he won’t eat until you do. So you take a bite of the chocolate and he looks more relieved.

“So what the fuck WAS that?” Belphie asks as the three of you move towards the exit.

“Later.” You haven’t yet found a reason to really tell Beel (and, by extension, Belphegor) about everything. You do later that night. 

Beel swears he’ll never surprise you like that again. He’s a lot more cautious about touching you for a few days, but eventually things go back to normal between you.

Belphegor

Author note: Dude fucking murdered you, deliberately, in cold blood, and taunted you for your gentleness and desire to help as you died. But let’s say you can get past that - or try to. Probably the second-worst choice, after Satan, for this reason.

You started dating Belphie for the strangest reason: you could trash-talk the shit out of him.

He kept trying to be around you after you made the pact (which, let’s face it, you made so you could MAKE SURE he never hurt you again). Until, after politely dodging him wasn’t working, you told him to take his emo-boy routine and fuck off somewhere else.

You flinched, waiting for retaliation, but he just blinked at you and told you to stop being a brat.

And he was smiling.

But it wasn’t a mean smile - it was a smile that shared the joke.

Your lips quivered into a returning smile, and you threw another insult at him.

He topped it, and hurled one back.

Before you knew it, the two of you were screaming obscenities at each other in the middle of the common room and laughing like hyenas.

For some reason, Belphie calling you a dumb bitch wasn’t an insult. It was a mark of endearment. And it didn’t hurt your feelings or make you afraid.

It was empowering to call him a dickhead if he did something you didn’t like and have him simply laugh and amend his behavior. Nothing bothered him.

He didn’t move quickly; in fact he didn’t move at all if he could help it.

But you would remember, sometimes, the way his hands felt on your throat, or how cold his eyes had been. And you couldn’t say it was a momentary madness, because he’d planned it. He’d been imprisoned because he wanted to kill humanity.

You put it out of your mind. It was something you were good at, after all.

Until the two of you sat down to watch a movie one evening. A simple plot hole sparked a discussion that wound up being….not an argument, but definitely a difference of opinion.

As usual, insults were flying fast and furious when suddenly Belphie laughed and smacked you with his pillow.

It wasn’t an angry move, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt. It wasn’t a hard blow at all! But the surprise had you falling back on the couch. And the fear had you curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your head protectively, legs curled up to guard your middle.

There is dead silence.

“Hey, Brat?” Belphie asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name instead.

You slowly, very slowly, begin to uncurl yourself from your position. It takes time for the residual fear to leave, but enough is gone to leave room for embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

“I get it,” is the answer.

Cue awkward silence.

“I figured you were still afraid of me.”

“I’m not!” When he just stares blandly at you, you sigh. “Okay, a little. If you wanted to hurt me - again - you’ve had a ton of opportunities. So I don’t think you want to. But…..”

“It’s a hard thing to get over.”

“Yeah. And not just you.” Hesitantly, you start to tell him. You want to just give him the basics, but once you start talking, you can’t seem to stop. He doesn’t interrupt, barely seems to blink, just watches you. A blank vessel to help you empty the poison that fills you sometimes.

You see his jaw tighten as you go on, but you know the anger isn’t at you.

When you finish, he’s silent for a few moments. Then he gathers you up to him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he says.

You look up at him with the same bland look he gave you a moment ago.

“Again,” he amends. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let out a watery laugh and he hugs you a bit tighter.

“You’re still a brat, though.”

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

In the end of it all, Monaca Towa was still a child.

To start this off, this isn't my usual Black Butler posts but ive been meaning to talk about Danganronpa for a hot minute, so please bear with me! Second, this is solely my opinion and before anyone wants to attack me please read thoroughly first. Thank you:)

(Spoiler warning for Danganronpa: Ultra Despair Girls and Danganronpa 3)

Also, before we dive in I'm going to list some trigger warnings:

Physcological abuse

Physical abuse

Manipulation

P*dophillia

Suicide attempt

Violence (?)

Childhood trauma

Please take care and read at your own risk<3

Hello there Danganronpa fandom! Today I will be talking about Monaca Towa (as stated in the title) and how people often minimize her trauma and sometimes forget the fact that shes still a child who got heavily manipulated by Junko too.

Monaca is seemingly very amiable and caring, because of her charming personality, all of the Warriors of Hope love her and try their best to keep her happy and go along with what she wants. However, it's slowly revealed that she is actually manipulative and cunning behind her friendly facade.

Monoca is a character that is cruel, manipulative, and extremly unhinged. Many of her actions cannot be excused or justified, but you can understand where she's coming from.

Monaca's Backstory:

She was born an unwanted child by both her father and her mother. Monaca's mother was supposed to take care of her but instead abandoned the child soon after her birth. Because of all her actions, Monaca saw her mother as a completely selfish and pathetic person. Monaca's father thought of giving her to an orphanage but instead took her into his family.

However, Monaca was always unwanted and everyone else felt uncomfortable around her. Every time Monaca smiled or joked, the others looked at her coldly, as if she didn't deserve to laugh. Every time she spoke, the others turned silent. His older-half brother thought of her as an alien, not part of the family.

She was also physically abused to the point that she pretended to be seriously wounded for them to stop as a result.

Monaca also attended Hope's Peak Elementary School and was part of the "trouble-makers class" along with Nagisa, Masaru, Jataro, and Kotoko.

Along with her fellow abused classmates, she planned a group suicide; however, Monaca never had any plans to commit suicide in the first place and was planning to let the others die as a prank.

The group suicide was stopped by Junko, who took the kids in and manipulated them by treating them with kindness and love.

Monaca then helped Junko mass produce Monokumas for the Tragedy by using her position as a representative of the Towa Group.

She lied to her father and the other adults in order to produce the Monokumas, telling them that she wanted to create futuristic robots that could be domestic helpers and emergency aid workers.

Due to her separation from the family and her genius, her family decided to give her leg room to do what she wanted as long as she brought in profits to the company, and didn't delve too deeply into her plans.

Things to keep in mind about Monoca's backstory:

She was emotionally and physically abused from a very young age.

She started to pretend to be paraplegic because she was finally treated with some kindness and she could have more control over people.

She convinced Nagisa, Jataro, Kotoko and Masaru to commit suicide.

Out of all the Warriros of Hope, Junko took the most intrest in Monoca due to her position, meaning that she was the one who got used and manipulated the most.

How Monoca's mindset works:

The moment she got physically abused to the point that she had to fake her injuries to make her family feel bad was the moment she learned that through sympathy from others comes power. Due to her families neglection and abuse, she started to quickly pick up on things in which benefited her yet hurt others.

She started to use manipulative tactics on her family to gain control over them. She then started implicating these tactics with the Warriors of Hope.

When Junko got into the picture, everything changed for the worst. Junko was the only person in Monaca's life who showed her affection. Even though deep down Monaca knew Junko only cared for her as a means to use her robotics genius for the Tragedy, Monaca didn't care, and happily helped out Junko with her plans if it meant being loved and appreciated in return. At the heart of it, despite all her horrific acts, that's a very child-like thing to do, right? So when Junko dies, Monaca's entire reason for living basically disappears.

AI Junko via Kurokuma may have planted the idea of a successor in her head, but in Monaca's mind it's a way to get her big sis back, and very specifically chooses to mold Komaru into becoming Junko's successor. That's for a big reason, Monaca doesn't want to become Junko, I'd say she actually just wanted her big sister back who would love and appreciate her again, and hence tried to make someone else take on that role initially. Once again, that's the mindset of a child.

Monaca's relationship with the Warriors of Hope:

The Warriors of Hope are a group of children who are extremely resentful and hateful of adults, regardless of whether or not they were involved in their rough paths. 

We all know that the Warriros of Hope are extememly tramutized kids. Masaru had alcoholic parents who physically abused him, Jataro was physcologically abused to the point he bealived he was so ugly that if anyone saw his "repulsive" face they would die, Kotoko was r*ped multiple times by disgusting p*dophilic men (not to mention, Monaca's brother was attracted to her), and last but not least we have Nagisa who had pressuring parents who wanted to raise him as the child prodigy and expirimented on him constantly.

Monaca used the Warriros of Hope's trauma against them, manipulating them to the point were they had to do her bidding completly.

As much as I hate to say it, Monaca truly saw them as pawns. Although there are some instances where she openly declares her care for the Warriors of Hope, it's likely she does that as a form of emotional manipulation.

If anything, she probably did see them as equal in the beginning but then when she started to gain control over her own family, she started to do the same with the Warriors of Hope as a way to protect herself from getting hurt, then again this is my baseless assumption.

Her dynamic with Nagito:

Monaca was amused by Nagito's strange behavior and contradicting beliefs and appeared to be somewhat annoyed with him at the times. However, the two appeared to at least seemingly respect each other in some way, as they treated each other somewhat formally as allies.

Her dynamic with Nagito is one of the most intresting ones. Obviously I think that her being rasied by Nagito was potentially a dangerous thing, considering Nagito's goal was for Monaca to become Enoshima's successor. Monaca seemed to agree with this goal, but Nagito's constant rambling about hope and despair made Monaca bored and feel embarrassed about the whole thing.

She claims he made her an adult in a way, as she grew up in the mental sense and became more cynical and apathetic, not really caring about anything.

In the end, Monaca found Nagito creepy and annoying, but she also appeared to get closer to him during their time together, while originally calling him just "Mister Servant" in UDG, she later refers to him as "Big Bro" in Danganronpa 3. I do think their dynamic was sort of soft and I would've loved to have seen more of it. Honestly the concept of Nagito being a soft brother to Monaca warms my heart, and the wasted potential will forever anger me.

(If any Danganronpa fanfic writer or any writer in general is reading this post: if u could be so kind and do a PLATONIC Nagito and Monaca prompt and tag me in it, I would love you forever!!)

My opinion on Monaca:

I think that Monaca was a very well-written character who deserved more than what she got in the end of Danganronpa 3. She was abused, mistreated and belittled by her family. If anything, I see her as a completely misguided little girl. If she actually had a positive authoritative influence in her life, she wouldn't have turned astray.

A lot of people disregard Monaca's trauma and forget that at the end of the day, Monaca was a child who the moment she was born, the people who were supposed to love her were unwelcoming.

Don't get me wrong though, there is no way in hell I will ever justify or condone the things Monaca has done. If anything, I just think that she alongside the rest of the Warriors of Hope should've been properly taken care of.

Also, if you dislike/hate Monaca thats 100% valid! She did a lot of inexcusable things and its alright to hate on her. I personally love her character but I know she is not everyones cup of tea.

If you read all the way, I'm actually surprised! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed<333

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: Physical, verbal, and emotional abuse

I think I’m looking for reassurance.

I’m pretty sure I live in an abusive household but lately I’ve been doubting myself. My mother has been beating me and verbally abusing me since I was a kid. She’s told me horrible things about myself my entire life. Shes said that she doesn’t like me, she wouldn’t care if I died, I’m selfish, I’m difficult, I’m horrible to be around, no one wants to be around me, I’ll always be alone, stupid, lazy, etc. Ive been beaten for little things like dropping plates or getting Bs or Cs on tests. I was never allowed to express myself or I’d get told to shut up and that it doesn’t matter what I want, I just have to do what I’m told. I wasn’t allowed to get cry or get upset whenever she was mean because she’d just hit me harder or yell more. She’s also really manipulative and uses things/people that I care about to get me to do what she wants and gets really angry when I’m not doing what she wants. Like she’ll cry or yell or be more affectionate to my siblings and ignore me. Or she’ll threaten something bad happening to my siblings or try to make me feel bad.

I’m confused because she says that she does so much for me and she’s sacrificed so much but she kinda….doesn’t. I’ve been doing everything by myself since I was 12. I do all the laundry (washing, drying, folding), clean the entire house, take care of my siblings (food, homework, medicine, etc), and do everything else for myself. And I’m expected to keep my grades up and have extracurricular activities. But she always says that I shouldn’t be tired and that I’m never doing anything. She always gets angry when the house isn’t clean even though she doesn’t work for half the week. She doesn’t cook, my grandmother does. She drives me to and from school/extracurriculars though.

Now she says I’m allowed to express myself but anytime I do, she yells at me. Anytime I get upset at her she tells me that she’s sacrificed so much for me and that she does so much for me and that I’m ungrateful and selfish. I’m nervous that maybe I’m the crazy one because she and my family act like I’m the bad one. She says that I’m an ungrateful child and I just keep making her sad and hurting her feelings. I know I can be rude/mean sometimes and that I can be hard to deal with but this makes me very sad.

I just don’t know what to do because I’m seeing one thing and being told something else. On top of that, I’m completely alone. I literally have no one.

-Ari

Hi, Ari. You are not the bad one here, trust me. I am so sorry all of that is happening to you. Your mother is extremely abusive to you and it is not your fault.

Abusers often play the victim in order to manipulate us and stop us from criticizing them and their abuse. She is actively trying to brainwash you by making you feel like you are the problem and that you deserve the horrible things she does to you. It is all an act. I know its hard, but try not to let yourself fall for it.

You do way more than a child should, by what you said in your message. You take care of the house and your siblings on top of going to school and after school activities. That is way too much to put on a child, and the fact that your mother doesn't acknowledge that and instead tries to discredit you by saying you don't do anything is horrible.

You are a strong person and you deserve to be loved, protected and appreciated. You are not mean for telling her what you feel, you are not hard to deal with just because you try to express yourself. Do not let anyone devalue you like that.

I assure you that nothing that is happening to you is your fault at all and I wish you will be able to get out of that situation as fast as possible and that you will come to see how wonderful you really are. Stay strong.

- Mod Elly

[pigeonxp]

YGCMA songs and how they relate to c!Wilbur based off of yesterday’s lore (in my biased opinion)

This is so dumb and i literally don’t care. I can’t think about anything else other than doing this synopsis even tho like 28480329204 other people are going to do it. idc. 

(I listened to the songs earlier, and i’m also listening to them as i write the opinions. these are basically just my thoughts while listening tbh. im also not doing the full song, just some things i feel relate within each song)

- Jubilee Line

the lines at the beginning of the song, “hate to see you leaving / a fate worse than dying” could relate to how wilbur feels after tommy gets pulled back into the overworld. or, he could be referencing L’Manburg and how he hates to see his country leaving him (ouch). 

then we have the lines “your city gave me asthma / so thats why im fucking leaving / and your water gave me cancer / and the pavements hurt my feelings”. This could be in relation to L’Manburg as a whole. He put everything he had into L’Manburg and it only ended up hurting him in the end. yikes. 

now we have “shout at the wall / ‘cause the walls dont fucking love you” repeated. This could be in reference to when he said he was fucking kicking and screaming to get out of the train station. hes screaming and he doesnt care because it doesnt matter to him. it doesnt love him just like how the people of L’Manburg didnt love him. wilbur get therapy challenge.

so based on the lore from yesterday, we know that c!wilbur’s limbo was a train station (props to fanartists. i love you.), presumably the YCGMA album cover type deal. when he sings “Theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the tube line / theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the rails” repeated. if the train station looks like how they do on the album cover, there could be barriers where he is. maybe hes trying his best to just kill himself over again by jumping onto the tracks. just in an attempt to escape. jfc 

“theres a reason they fail”. he was still in the train station, wasnt he?

- Saline Solution

for this one, i feel like hes pretty far into the void and regretting his decision to have phil kill him. hes tired of being in a fucking train station for years on end. 

“i think this time im dying / im not melodramatic / im just pragmatic beyond any / reasoning for thinking ive got / fuckin rabies or something.” hes so fucking sick of being in this goddamn train station and he thinks hes dying. hes so pent up and sick of being there, maybe hes just in so much pain that he feels like hes dying. if hes been there for a while, hes probably bound to go crazy at some point, hence the “pragmatic beyond any reasoning.”

“I think ive lost my mind / blurring the fact and the fictions” this feels like he really does believe hes going crazy and is mixing up the things he really knows and the things his mind is creating for him. maybe this is when tommy first arrived and he cant tell if he real or not (thats a stretch but i figured id share it anyway.)

“I think ive made my choice / im a deceased playing victim / slip the face, slip the victory” he quite literally says that hes a deceased playing victim. hes literally saying hes dead HAHHAHAH anyway. maybe hes blaming himself again, because us c!wilbur apologists all know that hes very good at doing that.

“Sit secluded in hatred /.../” hes sitting in a fucking train station for god knows how long beating himself up over and over again and just hating himself. hes all alone. with himself. someone he fucking loathes.

this is honestly all i have for Saline Solution, but i will definitely add more later if i get different theories. 

- Since I Saw Vienna

This is my favorite song on the album and my comfort song so that could factor into this bit ahaha

im going to skip through this one a little bit and go to the line “The roads are my home, horizons my target / if i keep on moving, never lose sight of it / treating my memory of you like a fire, let it / burn out, don’t fight it, try to move on” this sounds like hes reminiscing on his home in L’Manburg and his presidency was something he relied on and he would fight to get it back, but now that hes dead and said that it should remain that way that he should just let it go. trying to move on from his symphony, forever unfinished. 

 “its been sixty weeks since i saw vienna / a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face / ill pick up my hiking boots when i am ready / and ill put down my roots when im dead.” THESE LINES FUCK ME UP IN GENERAL BUT HOW THEY RELATE TO C!WILBUR RN IS JUST SUIBHYSBUSHDXNSKJDNHBD YK???? in the context that vienna is L’Manburg and he died, its saying that its been a long ass time since hes seen it and hes faking being okay about his death. he misses it but doesnt want to admit it. the picking up the hiking boots when hes ready is him moving on from his L’Manburg, and putting his roots down when hes dead is finally being okay with not living there/being an important part of it. he believed his death was the best for the people in L’Manburg and L’Manburg itself. it seems like hes still trying to convince himself. 

“Ill be gone then, for when you must be alone.” hes gone. hes dead. hes in the train station. he left the L’Manburgians alone and hes alone in his limbo. man. 

- Losing Face

this song is angry. hes so fucking angry. my thoughts are that this is about the following presidents after him. he feels like the L’Manburgians were happier without him and im pretty sure he believed that even when Schlatt was president. this is so evident in the lyric “Is he better than me?” Hes literally asking if the other presidents were better than he was. he doesnt believe he did everything he could to be the best president, even though we all know that he gave everything that he was into that country and then some. he broke himself for the L’Manburg but he doesnt believe hes enough. sheesh.

“Ive seen him / ive been him / ive felt the same way” even though he cant see the new presidents being president, he knows what its like. he knows that they might break under the pressure. hes been there. he knows how if feels. yikes. 

“Ive lost all meaning / ive lost my sense of hope” this feels like when he was nearing the end of L’Manburg when he blew it up, and that he feels like trying to win it back is pointless. he has no hope for it anymore, so why not give up? his mental state is already shit yk so i cant really blame him for feeling that way. 

“i dont care / i want you here / as long as youre happy, i dont care” this line. this fucking line. hes lost hope in being president, but he doesnt care. he just wants the L’Manburgians to be happy. that was his whole thought process while he was president. he didnt matter to himself, he just wanted them to be happy. he sacrificed his mental state for them. cries in wilbur apologist.

- Your Sister Was Right

this is my second favorite song on the album i think HAHAHAH

anyway

“I use everyone i ever meet / i cant find the perfect match / abuse those i love / while i ostracize the ones who love me / back.” wowie wow wow fucking ouchie. He feels like he uses his friends. this whole thing is a projection of his shit ass mental state rn fucking hell. he feels like hes abusive. thats what everyones been telling him. they tell him he was awful and a shit president and all that jazz even though hes been killing himself trying to be the best for them but its still not enough (pigeon projecting? more likely than you think)

“every time that i miss you / i feel the way you hurt / and i dont deserve you / you deserve the world / though it feels like we were built / from the same dirt.” man. hes dead lol. he misses the L’Manburgians. not only were they his supporters, but they were all his friends too. every time he misses his friends he feels their pain of when he first blew up L’Manburg. he feels like because he caused them all pain that they dont like him and that they never liked him and that he is undeserving of their friendship. he still wants to be friends with them. he still loves them. he still wants the best for them. he thinks theyre so much better than him even though they all created L’Manburg together. in reality they are all the same, but their actions impact each other and he feels that his actions make him worse than them or less than. fuckisonmdfnpbhife

“and i hate to say it / but your sister was right / dont trust english boys / with far too much free time” sister is dream mayhaps. fuckngeionsfjg that hurt sorry uhhh anyway yeah sister is dream?? he did say that wilbur would be a shit president and he believes that hes a shit president so he thinks they were all right about him being a shit president  fbhjebinfnejg. maybe sister is just everyone who didnt believe in wilbur. man....

“a fucking waste of time” do i even need to explain this one? he fr doesnt belive hes worth it anymore and that hes literally a waste of time. hjkfbhnfve

- La Jolla

this one feels pretty far into train station limbo to me as well. namely from “and im lonely / there i said it” this could either be him being lonely as president and feeling like he doesnt have anyone to talk to really because hes too busy trying to hold himself together for everyone. either that or hes lonely in the station and didnt want to admit it because this is what he wanted. he wanted to die. he wanted to be dead because he believed thats what everyone else wanted and he just wanted the best for them. 

“i could go away / i could pack my things and be gone before you wake” he could leave if they asked him to. he would do anything for them. 

“you know ive tried hard to love me too / it always seems to fall in, through” this line already physically pained me but now it hurts even more having to relate it to a character i love. we already know that his mental state was declining as his presidency continued, but this would confirm that hes just trying to love himself even though he can never seem to get it right. 

“my own personal sunset” this is just the ‘this is my sunrise’ line but different. my man misses the sun. fuck. 

- I’m Sorry Boris

this song is almost definitely from a long ass time in the limbo. 

“and im sorry / but, boris / im leaving / im not good for anyone here” boris represents L’Manburgians!! hes talking about how hes leaving the world by planning on killing himself. fuck. 

“we reached the end of a decade” mans been dead for a decade. sheesh. 

he then goes on to say that he cant believe hes leaving, he doesnt think he wants to leave them, but he thinks its whats best for them.

he talks about how they do all of these bullshit things before helping you and i know its in reference to london but for the sake of my sanity its about the presidency role and how it will fuck you up before bothering to help you not want to kill yourself.  

should i do a separate post about how i visualized it/about how i thought about the song in paragraph form like a lowkey explanation? idk how to explain it but in this one i wanted to just cover some of the lyrics of the songs and my thoughts on them. i think c!wilbur wrote these in the limbo after he died. i know this is also shit and Not Good, but i really just needed to get my thoughts out before it killed me. i also didnt reread this. its probably repetitive and shit yk. i do Not Care. id also love to hear thoughts on this if yall want to. if you made it this far i love you please hydrate and eat today and youre so sexy ahaha 

“and even though im finished / im not quite done with it” even though hes finishing his symphony by blowing it up, hes now realizing he wished he hadnt blown it up and that he hadnt killed himself. man. 

-

[emakenz]

mad that my mom pierced my ears as a 3 month old smh

she thought it would be cute but GUESS WHAT

I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT FUCK YOU

seriously i still have infections to this day in the old holes (haha) and i havent worn earrings since like. years ago. around a decade ago. i have sensitive skin as it is you fucking cunt you knew this yet you still did it im throwing a tantrum its within my rights DAMN IT. ive ALWAYS had trouble with ear infections (both with the piercings and canal) and she doesnt even APOLOGIZE for it. FUCKING BITCH.

i love my mom but i seriously fucking hate her too. never acknowledges that she has traumatized me and doesnt ever apologize for fucking ANYTHING ever!! (the trauma is unrelated to the ear piercing since i dont fucking remember being stabbed in my ear lobes since i was fucking THREE MONTHS OLD but still)

yeah im venting on tumblr.com nobody rlly cares but uh im not the only one whos had some sort of physical augmentation (hope thats the right word, if not, then mutilation i guess) without my consent and it just makes me mad man. like people whove been circumcised and people whove had surgeries that werent necessary for their health (like "gender correction" surgery and treatments that you see done on intersex children) against their consent have the right to be much more pissed than i am since those can have more detrimental effects but the fact that people who have children automatically believe they own the childs body just because they made it is literally so fucking abysmal and i hate them. even forcing your kid to wear something that makes them uncomfortable or that they dont like is horrendous to me. i was forced into dresses as a little kid and guess what? they think its funny that i cried and they didnt like that i didnt want to wear what they forced on me. they have PICTURES. while it may seem very very stupid to be upset over, its kind of hard not to be affected by something like that. the people that were supposed to protect you and keep you safe and make you feel safe would willingly put you in positions that you didnt/couldnt consent to. its disgusting.

while back on the piercing thing, no, i dont consider it child abuse. i do think its wrong and fucking stupid to accessorize an infant like a doll, i know its normal in a lot of cultures and im not going to say theyre bad for doing it. but i just disagree with it since i strongly believe in consent no matter what it is. if you give birth to a female does that mean you get to force her into ballet? no. a child is a human being that lives with the shit that theyve been put through for the rest of their lives.

im literally pro choice on everything. its about CONSENT. jesus FUCK.

[mycptsdrecovery]

TW for abuse, mental health crisis, unreality, mental hospital mention

hi im a 19 year old and still living with my parents. ive been trying to move out since august and i planned to move out by december. in late december i was not having much luck with housing and i started having memories of not so great things my parents did to me throughout the years play in my head. i rly have no idea how to explain this confusing clusterfuck of a situation in just a tumblr ask but basically i want to know if the things my parents did count as sexual abuse.

from a young age my parents didnt respect my boundaries. my parents often touched my butt (it sounds so stupid calling it that idk what else to put) in seemingly nonsexual or accidental ways, but they didnt stop as i grew older. i remember the first time that i realised i was being sexually abused (thats how i thought about it at the time, idk). i dont remember what my dad did specifically but i was 8 years old-ish, i started puberty around then because my body hates me. it was probably to do with my butt/waist/ things and my dad touching them. we were about to go in a shuttle to the airport, it was like 2am. i remember i stayed silent through whatever happened but at some point during or after i remember bursting into tears and like... thinking to myself that my dad is sexually abusing me (i dont remember where i learnt what that is) and my dad asking me what was wrong but i refused to talk because i was scared. moments like these where my dad touched me in a way that didnt feel normal and i burst into tears happened multiple times. ive felt very uncomfortable around my dad for most of my life at this point. hes the kind of dad who doesnt talk about anything hes thinking or feeling, doesnt talk much at all or have many friends. we have rarely had conversations past surface level talk thats appropriate for strangers or acquaintances so i have never known whats in his head and whenever ive tried to get him to talk with me about something serious he shuts down and leaves. hes very neglectful emotionally, though he used to sometimes fulfil his emotional duties as a parent when i was a very young child according to my mum but he stopped at some point. for a really long time ive been afraid that my dad was sexualising me in his head or sexually attracted to me. ive grown up having nightmares about my parents raping me.

here are some of the things i remember my parents doing. some memories are not easily accessable and some have not been processed as an adult.

TW

-both my parent regularly touched my butt in a variety of contexts. i never confronted my dad about it because i knew he wouldnt answer me. i have learned to only hug my parents in a specific way so that my arm is always under their arms so i can stop them from putting their hands too low.

-my dad used to put his hand on my waist and hips/lower back. he was basically doing the kind of casual touch that you would do with someone ur in a sexual relationship with. he doesnt anymore because i have stopped allowing him to spend much time with me.

-my parents, mostly my mum have touched my breasts very lightly and casually. it could be seen as accidental but my mum has never responded to my frequent requests to stop touching me like this.

-my mum showed me her vagina once as... sex ed? i have no idea if this is normal which is kinda how i feel about most of the ?sexually? themed things my parents have done.

-my mum has always commented on my body in ways that made me very uncomfortable, such as often commenting on how i would be sexually harassed because of the outfit im wearing, even the necklace im wearing.

-my mum gave me several moderately detailed accounts of sexual assaults that hve happened to her, like for instance when i was around 6-9? she used a story of a sexual assault that happened to her while in a pool to say that i be afraid in public pools. the amount of detail was very unnecessary.

-one time my mum was telling me about how boys pinch girls buttcheeks to tell them they think theyre 'sexy'. then she pinched my buttcheeks a bunch of times even though i didnt want her to. im sure she did this many times and i was literally like 5 years old or something.

-my mum talked to my sister while i was in earshot about... how she would be ok with it if i married my 1st cousin? and she named him specifically. it made me feel rly weird around him.

-again my dad has always just given me huge predator vibes and ive always been super afraid of him.

this list is definitely incomplete but i dont remember anything penetrative or to do with anyone touching my genitals.

i tried to tell someone about the "sexual abuse" twice when i was 13, both during mental ward stays about 9 or 10 months apart. the first time is completely blacked out from my memory and the second one... they told the police. my dad was questioned and nothing happened because i never wanted anyone except the nurse who i told to know and refused to tell anyone any details. i just wanted to get a weight off my shoulders. instead i got a 3 or so year long period of my mum emotionally abusing me to a degree she never had. i was almost completely convinced that i had never been sexually abused. i still dont know if its true or not. the specific term my mum used was that i "mis-interpreted" my parents actions as sexual abuse. i didnt push back, i was too terrified of her and i just dissociated to cope with those years. i was very very isolated from anyone except my mum. i wanted desperately to be a young child again and felt like one most of the time. before 6 years old was the only period where i felt like my parents actually liked me.

when i was around 15 i started sexually getting involved with older men online. i wasnt attracted to them, i didntdesire them, i just was so traumatised from... whatevrr u want to call the way my parents treated me but i didnt feel that i had the right to be. i felt like i needed to get some "real" trauma and i dont want to say what i did but im lucky that none of these men ended up meeting up with me irl at least. the fucked up thing is that though it did traumatise me, i kind of felt better because i wanted something i could feel justified in being upset about.

now im 19 and my brain is hitting me with all these memories. i havent felt safe with my parents for most of my life. theyre neglectful and emotionally abusive towards me. they abused all my other siblings physically quite a lot and two of them have moved to different countries so that they can not live in the same place they grew up in. 2 out of 3 of my siblings have completely cut ties with my parents for years now. when i was 11 i recoeved an email from my brother telling me about our parents not being safe people.

ive started to consider the possibility of the constant violation of my boundaries counting as sexual abuse. i have a lot of sexual trauma symptoms and i have for a very long time. i grew up afraid that my dad was going to rape me. i think i was abused by my mum into associating holding my parents accountable with the punishment she put me through after she found out i reported them. i just want to know if im allowed to be upset about this. im terrified that this is normal, because if its normal that means i was a gross freak as a kid who just "mis-interpreted" these actions to be sexual abuse. i need to make sense of my reality somehow. im so confused.

you absolutely have the right to be upset by this. what they did to you was not okay. an adult touching a child intentionally in inappropriate areas is molestation, even if they played it off as not a big deal. many of the things you mentioned also sound like grooming which is often a part of childhood sexual abuse. i’m so sorry these things happened to you. i hope you are safe and can find a way to not be around your parents.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ppl be like "Magnus can't have flaws??! How dare you say nice things about him?!??" sometimes. All of Magnus' characteristics that we use to describe him are Canon but ppl act like we're making his personality up??? Saw someone tag a post abt ppl only making up personalities for guys nd not girls with his name as if he wasn't a main and didn't have his own story+background. It was made worse as they tagged the same post with damon Salvatore nd now I feel sick.

Book!magnus isn't flawed he's a straight up asshole. Ppl like to say he's better than show!magnus because of his dick ways and I'm just like: ????. Show!Magnus does have flaws idiots just lack the critical thinking to find them!

idk who damon salvatore is (i mean im vaguely aware hes from that vampire diaries thing but i know nothing beyond that) but otherwise i agree with u (also, ppl got a lot of nerve putting a coc in a list like that like being a moc means being treated even slightly the same way as a white man lmao. i mean yeah sure hes still got male privilege but are you serious? fandom treating a coc like he deserves nuance and well thought out headcanons and love and attention? wish i lived in that world)

what rlly drives me crazy about this whole "magnus is allowed to have flaws" thing is that like, yeah, he sure is! especially because poc are never allowed to be even the slightest bit human, much less flawed, without people getting up in arms about it. magnus' got plenty of flaws! he's stubborn, he's self sacrificial, he hides his feelings from others, he pushes ppl away when they get too close to his vulnerabilities, he has a tendency to simply Decide what other ppl want or need (like with alec and that whole moving to idris thing), he is impulsive, and a lot of other shit

and it's exactly those flaws that draw me to him, honestly! like i talk about how kind and caring he is all the time, and that is true, but i know that this is, at least partially, him feeling like he needs to be useful to be loved, and erasing himself/defining himself by what he can do for others, which is the same trait that leads him to act in all these ways i mentioned above. it's why i relate to him! it's why i love him! magnus isn't perfect, he is good, a good person, and there's a difference

which is the point i have been wanting to make when i started writing this answer because like. what drives me crazy the most is how those dark magnus stans or whatever love to say that they write him as an evil person who literally enjoys hurting others (like im sorry but have you watched the show?) because he's "allowed to have flaws". usually the same ppl who keep being like "i write my relationships realistically!" and when u check out their fics, it's like, literally abuse. like straight up physical violence and manipulation and gaslighting. and. that's not being realistic, girl! that's normalizing abuse

and it's one thing if this is a dark fic and its supposed to be bad or whatever and u just want to explore that, god knows i write about abuse all the damn time. its another to be like "actually if ppl arent like that its not realistic and ur writing them as perfect uwu beans and u have no nuance and are a bad writer". cuz honestly, if u think "having flaws" is being straight up abusive, and that it's "unrealistic" otherwise, then that tells me all i need to know about how u live ur relationships. if u think its literally impossible to exist in the real world without abusing others then i dont want to have shit to do with u, buddy

(and im not even saying that from just a logical standpoint but also from experience because ive had exes and ex friends who used this whole "actually humans are naturally selfish and dont care about others and enjoy hurting others it's human nature" rethoric [and the whole "realistic" thing is really just that except applied to fiction] and surprise! they were all abusive! either to me or other ppl i knew, usually both)

and it's not unrealistic to be kind and care about others! on the contrary, it's a very normal and natural human trait. so miss me with that "either ur character literally enjoys torturing other ppl or he's being written as perfect" shit. which of course gains particularly strong tones when ppl r writing coc, esp moc. like no one insists that if alec doesn't feel literal pleasure hurting others then that's unrealistic and ppl r making his personality up and treating him like he's perfect. i wonder why 🙄

like the bar for "being written realistically" for white ppl is having flaws, for poc it's being straight up cruel

miss me with that shit! magnus is kind, he is selfless, he is caring, he is willing to do anything to help others, he is loving beyond anything else even after all his trauma! and yes, he is still flawed and realistic, and no, he is not an innocent baby. if he were i wouldn't be into it because i don't want a character who's kind because he doesn't know better, i want a character who's kind because they choose to. nothing could possibly be more boring to me than a character who's nice and unaware that other ppl might be assholes, i want characters who know exactly how terrible other people can be, who have experienced it firsthand, but who are still kind because that's who they are and what they believe in. and that's magnus! he knows perfectly well how full of horrors the world is, how sometimes there is no right choice, how sometimes u need to make sacrifices, how some people are really selfish and cruel and he's even been used by those specifically because he's too kind of selfless. he just chooses to still be kind and selfless anyway

if you could never, that's not my problem, or his writing's lol

[kikiscastleinthesky]

THE SOKKASM ZUTARA

I’ve seen a lot of tumblr blogs that ship zutara and I decided that is time for me to open mine too. So, yes, I’m a zutara shipper. And for the time being, my posts are going to be dedicated principally to analyze the ships in ATLA. 

Disclaimer alert:  I’m not forcing anyone to ship zutara. And I won’t accept hate because I (and many others) may have a different opinion, If you are one of those persons I invite you to leave, don’t waste my time and yours, because I’m not even going to reply. Everyone has the right to ship whatever they like and want, without been mocked, harrassed and humiliated. 

Well... now that everything is settled: 3...2...1 go!

I’m starting with this small analysis, because every zutara shipper has been attacked on why zutara and zutara is horrible yada yada but, this ocassion I’m gonna use all the attacks we get and defend it. 

I. Zutara is way the worst toxic relationship:

You call Zuko the abuser, the toxic and the bad tempered? Then you     didn’t get a clue of his redemption arc.

You call zutara toxic for:

a)     giving your mother’s closure and final acceptance into the group?

b)     saving each other’s life?

c)     being the “leading co-parenting” of the group?

d)     support you when you’re about to beg for his uncle forgiveness?

II. The cave scene didn’t mean anything, and just think about it, they would never ever get along well:•      

  Of course, I misunderstood Zuko confessing his own grief, probably he just hates her.

When Katara opens to her mother sorrow like she never did with anyone was like no big deal.

 That part when she offers to heal his scar with SACRED water was totally illogical.

And being the first person who he let touch his scar really said to me that they were absolutely toxic.

 Yes, he betrayed her initial trust. And it hurt, but guess who betrayed worst? The man who for three years was his father. But nope, Iroh, should never forgive Zuko, for what he did. (Right? Katara was betrayed and she should bever have interest in him, so Iroh would never forgive his abuser, right?)

III. Zutara is about getting in love with your abuser:

The abuser love? When did Zuko abused Katara? When did he forced to do something she didn’t want? Did he ever physically abused her or sexually assaulted her? Even if he tied her to a tree, he never humiliated her, he never hurt her or overpass against her. Or are you trying to make up his whole plot to eliminate all his attacks towards team avatar only rest in the female character? (Have you forgot how he betrayed his uncle? Or even himself?)

IV. Zutara is an age gap, it would be underage thing. “You don’t like Aang because he is a child and still pair Zuko, being a minor.” You want to hypersexualize two kids (Aang and Katara) into having sexual interest.

Katara would have been dating an underage guy too. She would have been 18 and Aang 16. I know! Age gap only matter when the man’s older. Both Katara and Zuko had gone through puberty, and both were in adolescence, both shared the same maturity level. Yes dude, there a huge difference in being a CHILD and being a TEENAGER, yes, still minor, But with puberty hit already.

Actually, I still believe even being 11-12 you can get like a… spark… a hint. Even if its not a relationship whatsoever, and not having sexual interest of any kind. If you really want to see what closest we get to a “real” attraction and potential between kiddos that age, you get S1Mike and Eleven (stranger things) / you get Chihiro and Haku (Spirited away) / you get Pazu and Sheeta. (The castle in the sky) –Wooo, that really changes things right?

But yet there are people that believe shipping zutara is “pedophile” I thought in seriously not replying to this stupidities but, here I am, dismantling their theories.

So, this is real life. An adult person trying to sleep with a prepubescent kid. So… there is no support on this. Because a ship is about two fictional characters in a fictional story.

What about fictional pedophilia? Well, we can change that: Fictional pedophilia is a psychosexual disorder when you ship an adult fictional character (+18) to have a sexual interest in a fictional prepubescent child (-12) and / or attempt to engage both characters in sexual acts.

So step one… are either Zuko or Katara either an adult or prepubescent child? As you can see in the image at the right, both have gone through puberty. Step two, are you trying to a couple of minors to get sexually involved? No, this is a love story, not porn. And before you yell at me for the porn zutara comics/fics on the web, I guess you should see the porn Kataang /fics comics on the web too.

But I don’t hate any ship. So, technically, neither Kataang, nor Sukka, nor Yukka, nor Jetara, nor Maiko is pedophilia.

Ok, yeah yeah its not pedo, but is statutory rape, so yet it’s illegal.

Oh yes, if we state that 18 is the age where you are considered an adult (at least in my country) both are minors, your term is partially correct. But guess what would be statutory rape too?

Sukka (15) and Maiko (16-17), both implied to have sex relationships and canon during the series.

The episode "The Southern Raiders" became (in)famous among the fandom for what is a truly epic instance of this trope. Zuko bumps into a very flustered Suki on the way to Sokka's tent, and she hurriedly excuses herself. He walks into Sokka's tent to ask him a question and finds him pants-less and surrounded by flowers and candles. He even greets Zuko with a suggestive "Well helloooo..." before he realizes who itis. After a short talk, he rushes Zuko out and sticks his head out to call for Suki. And if there was any doubt, Sokka is shown the next morning fiddling with a flower necklace for no apparent reason... except to indicate that maybe Suki had been “deflowered”.

And yet, if Kataang had sex, it would be statutory sex at some point too: 16 and 18 -Conclusions: Statutory sex takes all ships equally.

V. Poor Aang he would be devastated.

Kid, he’s 12, in the comics he’s 13-14. Or what? Haven’t you guys had a broken heart ever? Your high school sweetie? Or Aang’s so frail to not be able to find love? To close himself for a better opportunity? Seeking your own happiness in not selfish. What is selfish is seeking your own happiness at the other expenses.

And even that, we all know what would Aang do if Katara starts a relationship with Zuko. (Even if it wasn’t Zuko, I highly doubt he would like Katara dating someone else) He would go on avatar rampage. That is NOT healthy, that is NOT romantic. That is extremely possessive and selfish to do. It’s psychotic. Because Aang cares more about himself than Katara’s feelings, even if she would be happier without him.

VI. Zutara is all about sex interest.

Well once more you mistake chemistry with sexual needs. Wanting me to sleep with my husband means I only use him for sex relief? If I find myself sexually attracted to anyone probably means I just want to sleep with that person and nothing else.

VII. A hug is all zutarians have to acknowledge zutara:

We have a complete extended analysis in all the small details, but we like to use that forgiveness hug because in that hug you have more potential that all the kataang scenes all together. We have thousands of complete analyses, pages dedicated exclusively zutara. 

VIII. Katara “fell in love with Aang” and it’s not one sided.

Uh... Nope, just because two persons are good friends it doesn’t mean they are a good couple. Yes, the way the both of them interact is absolutely beautiful, But not romantically.

Do we see Katara’s view on romantically being drawn towards Aang? Yes, we see it, and yes, unfortunately, is one sided.

How Kataangers complete this:

·       The fortune-teller: I didn’t see like “Wow omg the avatar is going to be my future husband!” But… was like “uh… really?… well, I guess it’s him” Zutarians and Aunt Wu are the base for many backs up theories. ;) Aang is not the only powerful bender you know? And actually, that episode is way trying too hard to demonstrate the crush Meng has for Aang and Aang has to Katara. How is even healthy to accept that sometimes persons don’t like you back and it’s not the end of the world.

·       The cave scene: I forgot that Katara is telling him to be her boyfriend and they will live happily ever after. And really, it all gets us to a real Oma and Shu theory. Not to mention that they were “forced” to kiss because their kids innocence believed if they kissed, they wouldn’t die, and that Aang messed up things as well. But if you see it beneath, if she was truly interested, she would have told Aang: “wow omg we kissed, ok. let’s give him a clue…” nothing, she goes back in treating him same as always.

·       The headband dance: Well that’s a fair point yes. Actually, I felt something different…unfortunately Katara later had to tell him not to kiss her.

IX. Zutara is because you projected on Katara and had a crush on Zuko, because Katara and Zuko were your favourite characters and because is the bad boy style romance.

My crush was Jet <3, and zutara was the most logical endgame for girls. Ask any girl, ANY 14 yo who would like to date: A high school, nice and handsome guy or a 7th grader that had potential to be her best friend. (See the logic) 

And nope is not like “Insert fav characters of the opposite sex to ship them” You need to see real development.

I don’t know why they stereotype Zuko as the “bad boy” – relationship archetype. Zuko is never seen to be the classic fuck boy who treats girls like shit and suddenly there comes a lady to change him. Maybe he is a “bad boy” (confused though) in S1 and S2, but his redemption arc is literally the answer of why he is not “bad boy” anymore.

If Katara was truly and really romantically interested then she wouldn’t have friendzoned Aang. Once? Nope 4 times. And also… are we forgetting kind of imagery…

Friendzoned  

 When Aang fixes her a small necklace with the fishing  thread.

 When he kissed her at the invasion. She didn’t  reciprocate it. (I’m not even mentioning the mommy proud speech)

 When he wanted to talk about the kiss in the western  air temple (Comic love is a battlefield)

 When he kissed her at the play and she had to told  him to back off.

 Strange imagery

 She was June Pippinpaddleopsokopolis (Aang’s  granddaughter)

When Aang got shot, she held his body in her arms in  the exact way Mary held Jesus in Pieta’s sculpture.

 She was Sapphire Fire. (Aang’s pregnant mother)

After they got married, in the book legacy, she said  she enjoyed most seeing Aang becoming a man. (Honestly ladies if I got a BF  the least I want is seeing how the kid transforms into a man)

I’m looking forward to watch you grow into manhood  as I did to your father (Katara’s letter to Tenzin)

 I’m really  trying to deny Oedipus complex here.

Still hard for me to track Katara’s love interest for little Aang since all we see is more a relationship mom/sister or Harry/Hermione. I have heard rumours that Bryke wanted to give the ship “mystery” and “expectation” but I think they really messed up, I didn’t see expectation or mystery, I saw a child insisting to a girl that didn’t reciprocate. It wasn’t even like she didn’t have much of a chance, because her love interests:

Was killed by Long Feng

Gave him a hideous mustache and disappeared him after Azula’s attack in the western air temple.

Forced to be attached to a toxic relationship.

Apart that all those points I’ve mentioned, Kataang is not a relationship for me. Staying in a formal relationship with the first person they met of the opposite sex at 14 -12 (guys not even Disney does that, jeez not even studio Ghibli) and not having any chance to experience any other relationship. Never experiencing a broken heart, or someone better. I think that it gives the wrong idea, telling guys that no matter how long they are placed in friendzone, eventually the girl will fall for them. They just have to keep insisting.

You could say, but what a hypocrite! Snow White was 14 years old when she went to live with that prince! Many princesses are 16! And not to mention that many men were the first they met! Like Aurora, Rapunzel, and Cinderella. Well, you are right at one point. But ... the interaction of these characters changes radically, mainly because they never "give cute kisses" to their future husbands, nor do they treat them like their brothers or their children and ... the men were never friendzoned, except for Naveen at the beginning. You see the real attraction of teenage girls with an older boy. And I'm not saying that they should never be friends or support each other. Mulan and Chang were allies, friends, they supported each other, they saved their lives. But at no time was there the kind of interaction Katara and Aang had.

If Kataang was to be endgame, we would see Katara’s reaction to Jet, totally different, THAT kind of reaction was what I was waiting. (That kind of reaction is what every princess do, at least one time)

The same chemistry we saw in Yukka / Sukka. Honestly, I saw more chemistry between Haru and Katara.

Or at least give us some character development like: Aang, I know my feelings where not as you wanted but now I decided I want to be with you because (list everything here except he being the avatar), I really like you, perhaps we can give it a shot. Or like several things that could clue us that she is interested (come on people, two persons can kiss/hug/ have sex and that doesn’t imply they will be together in a formal relationship) But all we got was: Oh, right, he’s the avatar... suddenly I fell for him and I’m gonna kiss him fully in the mouth and that’s how I’ll tell him and that all my confusion has magically disappeared.

X. I’ve never saw that kind of spark between them. Again, it was “Just a hug”

Yes! That’s initially the whole point of it, a friendship hug, the truth of why we don’t need silly blushes. Because that forgiveness hug shows their initial relationship, they are friends! All their love needs to come first from a truthful friendship, by the contrary of calling the “immediate falling” like Aang did for Katara, it shows us that friendship love can evolve into something more beautiful, and that’s why we like the ship, because all zutara shippers know Zuko and Katara wouldn’t fall in love like that all of the sudden, they have to create the romantic relationship, and that’s what we portray in the fics.

What makes Zutara exceptional is that he, sees her, he hears her, he listens what she had to do, at anytime he forced her to do something she didn’t. And before a “teenager adolescence ship” he sees her as a human, with feelings with own ideals and goals.

And there is a complete and extremely well based analysis in: The crossroads of destiny + The southern raiders + The lighting saving.

XI. The comics show us how toxic they really where.

Their interaction in the comics was something I like to call: destroying a character. Not only Katara, who turned to be that awesome badass to the submissive girlfriend. From how I see it in the series to the comics there’s all I have to say: That’s not my girl.

XII. How Katara could be queen of a country that almost aniquilates her tribe and killed her mother? It would be a betrayal.

I think this argument is out. Not valid. Is like saying a Jew can’t date a German because of the holocaust. (German doesn’t mean nazi, just as Zuko, who was from the Fire Nation and didn’t order Katara’s mother assassination, and not every citizen of the fire nation means a ruthless killer). Is like saying that a Japanese can’t date a us citizen because of the bombs in WW2. And even if we see it “political”, is like… an aphrodescendant can’t rule a country that is racist, then Mr. Obama would have never reached the presidency.

Two persons can unify them, because they can demonstrate that being from different country that initally has not good terms can reach peace. The union between those countries represents the power of maturity, of overcoming adversities and the power of forgiveness. *Our lands now connected by love* And I want her to be queen, I want her to rule, I want her in charge, I want her in power. Imagine all the potential she could have (politics, business, negotiations, rebuilding, restoration, education, public health!! ***faints***) Not only for the fire Nation but for the whole world! Imagine that once Zuko abdicated they left to the south pole and she opened a fighting school and a healing school of her own (like master Pakku, but now her students are given a medical license that acknowledges them as professional healers) And this is just an idea. Like these ideas are hundreds. It would have been the perfect feminist role model!

XIII. Since the beginning, Katara was always interested in Aang and she always supported him and was for him when he needed her. That’s proof they were meant to each other.

If a girl expresses faith in your abilities, she loves you, she hugs you, and she supports you clearly she’s completely into you. Because obviously female best friends don’t exist.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 8)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Summary: Finally, things really are starting to get better.

Word Count: 9287

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Natasha x Platonic!Reader, Lawyer!Peggy x Platonic!Bucky, The Mom

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Homelessness, Anxiety, Trauma

A/N: What can I say except you’re welcome... ;)

Bucky Barnes tapped his nimble fingers anxiously against the rustic oak desk as he sat in Peggy’s office, waiting for the hospital’s in-house attorney to return so that the two of them could head over to meet Steve and your mother to complete their task at hand. The room was bright despite the lights being turned off, the mid-summer sunshine blazing through the large corner window with its blinds parted. The dark haired doctor looked down at the cheque book in front of him, an exasperated sigh escaping his dry lips as he continued to ponder what he was about to do. Of course, he was not having second thoughts about this. He had no regrets about the choice that he had made.

Money had never been an issue for him, not when he was younger and certainly not now. It was not the money that he was worried about. He knew that he was doing the right thing by offering a very large sum of money to your parents, almost three times more than what they had owed in medical bills, both in Brooklyn and in Philadelphia. Not only that, he was also offering them a monthly allowance in addition to this payment. With your father’s inability to work and your mother’s recent loss of employment, they would certainly be well off with what he had to offer them. Moreover, this allowance also allowed them to not have a reason to contact you in the future.

Although the reason for this awful feeling in his chest was not the fact that he was paying them off, it was the fact that he was only willing to pay them in return for them cutting all ties with their only child. It made him feel as though he was betraying you. They may not have been good parents to you but he knew that no matter what, you still saw them as your family. To put an end to that behind your back, it hurt him. He was hurting because he knew how much it would hurt you.

Your James knew that he was doing the right thing by paying them off so that you did not have to. But he could not deny the obvious fact though. They did not deserve any of it, not even a single penny. While you had to work twice as hard to become a successful cardio-thoracic surgeon, put your blood, sweat and tears into the way you studied, obtained your skills, practiced medicine and earned the money you were now making in your own right, your parents were going to live the rest of their lives in luxury because of what he was about to do. They did not deserve any of this at all, as it seemed to be more of a reward to their wrong-doings than a punishment. They deserved punishment. But who was he to wish that they would be punished?

Perhaps what Bucky had been feeling towards them was not necessarily vengeance; he was in no place to feel vengeful towards them. He had not been the one who had been hurt by their actions his whole life. If there was anyone in this world who had a justified reason to feel that way towards your parents, it was you. But he knew that your heart could never be so full of vengeance. Hell, your heart could never even hold a single ounce of vengeance. Even at a time like this, he knew that you were probably worried about your parents’ financial dilemma than the emotional trauma that had been caused by your surgery and its aftermath. As someone who had always sympathized with people who had lived in the streets, you would not wish that upon your own abusive parents. Your heart was a lot more pure than his and that was why you would always be a better human being than he could ever be.

Biting down on his bottom lip, he signed the cheque that he had written as payable to your mother, the sound of Peggy’s red bottom heels clicking against the tiled floor of the hallway making him turn to the door with a rather nervous smile. “Hey Peggy.” He said, almost too plainly, as though he was fighting too hard to suppress his own emotions. He wanted to stay calm for the sake of this transaction running smoothly, but the pain and the anger that the circumstances had caused him were undeniably weighing him down.

“Are you alright, Bucky?” She asked her child’s godfather as she entered her office, though she knew from the look on his face that he was far from okay. As an attorney, as a friend and as a mother of her own little girl, she understood how difficult this must be for him. It was just as difficult for her. Of course, she was angry for the way you had been treated your whole life. But she also knew that this was the only way you could be protected. She was glad that she had a small part to play in that.

But when she saw that look on Bucky’s face, she knew how much it hurt him too. Bucky had a short-temper, there was no denying that. And she could imagine just how angry he must be feeling towards your parents at that moment. Steve would have felt the same way had it been her and her parents. Peggy knew that despite the anger and the guilt that he must be feeling for what he was about to do, Bucky loved you. He loved you with all of his heart that he was fighting with his own emotions. Though she also knew that the man had a strict moral code, he would not let his emotions get the worst of him. After all, that was why they all called him the cold hearted surgical robot.

“I’m of sound mind, body and soul.” He replied as he let out another sigh, tearing the cheque leaf and looking down at the amount that he had written. “I want to do this, Peggy. I want to do this for her. But we both know that they don’t deserve any of this.”

As she walked around her desk, she pulled out a key from her pocket and the safe in the corner of the office. “What you’re about to offer them... not only is it much more than what they had asked Y/N for, it’s more than what any judge could have written off on.” She informed him with a sigh. “They don’t deserve it, I know. We all agree that they don’t deserve a single pence of what you’re about to give them, Bucky. But Y/N deserves it. She deserves everything that this world could possibly give her. Her safety, her protection, her happiness... they’re all priceless compared to what you’ve written in that cheque.” A part of Peggy wondered if now was a good time to tell Bucky about your confession regarding him. Probably not, she was not going to meddle that much. Besides, it would be much better if you and Bucky had confessed your feelings for each other to each other. Pulling out a sealed envelope, she set it down in front of the man before taking a seat across from him. “Are you sure you’re okay to present this cheque to them yourself? Or would you like me to... handle the transaction myself?”

Bucky bit down on his lip once more as he ran his hand through is hair. “I... I can do it.” He told her with a nod. “I would like to do it myself. I would like to hand her the cheque and give her a piece of my mind.”

Peggy let out another sigh before she shook her head at him. “Bucky, if you’re going to let your emotions out of control, I think its better that I do this on my own.”

“No, Peggy...” He shook his head back at her. “I want her to know that... even though they never have and probably never will... love their daughter as she should have been loved her while life, that there’s someone else in this world who loves her more than they ever could. I want them to know that even though they never realized how blessed they were to have a daughter like Y/N, it was their loss that they drove her away... because now she has people who actually care about her. I want them to know she’s loved widely and deeply, that we’re all better for Y/N than they could ever be.”

Peggy could not deny that Bucky’s wish was a valid one. In a way, she wanted your parents to know that too. But her concern was on the man’s temper. She feared that he would lash out at them, for she knew just how much he loved you. She wanted this to go smoothly, for your sake. “Fine... but you have to promise me that you won’t lash out at them. I know that your temper gets the worst of you at times. Steve even told me what happened between you and Wanda. Bucky, I know how you really feel about them but you can’t show that when you see them. Do you understand?” If anything, she was only worried about a potential lawsuit that might come their way. The last thing she wanted to deal with was one of the doctors lashing out at a loved one of a patient at this hospital, even though the circumstances did justify Bucky’s potential outburst, if there was any outburst at all. She sure hoped not.

“... I promise.” He agreed, looking down at his hands as he twirled around the hair tie on his wrist. “Peggy, what if Y/N finds out about what I did? If not about the money, I’m sure she’d at least be mad about the fact that I am asking her biological parents to cut ties all with her. I don’t even think I can keep the part about the money from her at this point. I mean, as much I want to keep it from her, I know that it’s not going to be easy to hide it. I thought about lying to her and saying that we wrote off her father’s surgery as part of my pro-bono procedures. But she knows that I ran out of funding with the last procedure I did a few months ago. She’ll ask where the money came from and... I don’t want her to be mad at me or get offended. I don’t want to lie to her.”

She let out a sigh of relief at his query, her lips curling into a smile as she realized that now what the time to continue her meddling. “Yeah, about that... I may or may not have mentioned to her that you were taking care of her parents’ medical bills.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide when she had said that. “What? Why would you... Peggy, I told you not to-”

“She was freaking out, Bucky!” The woman cut him off. “She felt helpless, not knowing what to do. She was crying. She didn’t know what to do or how to handle her mother’s demands. I had to tell her, just to calm her down. She needed to know, Bucky, and you know that. She needs to know everything... and I mean everything.” All Peggy could do was hope that Bucky understood what she meant by that. “Please... don’t be mad at me. I know you told Steve and I that she doesn’t find out. I told Romanoff, Wilson and Parker because they’re the doctors involved in her case. But... Y/N needed to know, Bucky. She needed to know that you were the solution to her problem... because that’s exactly what you are.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Peggy greeted your mother with a certain sense of fake politeness that she seemed to have mastered from her years of being a lawyer, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she motioning your mother to step inside the conference room. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us.”

Just by the way she carried herself; it was easy to note that your mother was a rather cold woman. The look on her face was reason enough for the two doctors and the attorney to hope for the best yet expect the worst from this meeting. After all, this was the woman who had been intending to cause you such emotional pain and probably felt no remorse for the way she had been treating you your whole life. They knew exactly what she was capable of but they were certainly not fazed by her presence. If anything, they knew that the power to wield this woman’s will rested upon the cheque that Bucky had been holding onto. They were confident that she would certainly let them have their way; from the numbers that Becca Barnes and the hospital had provided them, they knew that she really needed the money. While obtaining their medical bills from Philadelphia had been illegal, which Peggy had to drill into Bucky’s brain upon finding out what Becca had done for him, they hoped not to bring that up to her during this conversation for whatever reason.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, I believe we’ve met briefly...” Steve shook your mother’s hand, the expression on his face a rather neutral one. He loathed this woman for being such a terrible mother, but the look on his face did not show it. After all, he needed this meeting to go well for your sake, so he was willing to be in her presence until she signed that contract. As your mentor and brotherly figure, he had come to terms with the fact that he was your only immediate family and not her. Perhaps, even Steve needed her to know that he and his wife were more of a family to you than your own mother could ever be. “I’m Dr. Rogers, Y/N’s friend and emergency contact.”

“I remember you.” Your mother gave him a nod, though she was visibly confused as to why she was even meeting with him and the woman who had claimed to be your attorney. Her sole reason for approaching you the way she had done was due to her anger towards you. After all, she felt humiliated by the way you had run away from home, the way you had gotten the police involved in order to be taken out of your home and placed in foster care. New Hope, Pennsylvania, was quite a small town. With its population of a little over twenty-five hundred townspeople, everyone did know everyone. Everyone had come to know how the Y/L/N’s had abused their only daughter, only for her to run away. News travels fast around such small towns. You had brought them shame, yet you now lived a life of a successful surgeon who earned quite a lot of money, while her and your father still remained in their small town home with no proper source of an income. She did not think you deserved any of it.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Bucky forced a smile on his face as he held his hand out for your mother to shake. “My name is Dr. Barnes, Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Peggy’s eyes grew wide at the fact that Bucky had introduced himself as your boyfriend. In a way, he was telling her the truth. If all things went well, she hoped that eventually he would become your boyfriend. But who would have known that this man could say such a bold faced lie and still retain his composure. If anything, she knew that this meeting would be quite the entertaining one and she was here for it.

“Boyfriend? I didn’t know that little rat had a boyfriend...” The woman was not even decent enough to take his hand once he mentioned that he was your boyfriend. After all, she firmly believed that you were not worth being loved by anyone in this world. You were a burden to her and your father, the cause of all of her problems and undeserving of even having been born into this world. But whose fault was that? “I must say, I feel sorry for you, son. She’s not fucking worth it. I know her and I know that it’s only a matter of time before she gets up and runs off. Ran off from us like the ungrateful shit she will always be. That’s all she’s ever good for. I’d warn you to get the hell away from her before she breaks your heart and runs off.”

“Why would you, Mrs. Y/L/N? It’s not really appropriate for a liver donor to be mentioning the details of her love life to her recipient’s loved ones, is it? Besides, my girlfriend is certainly not one to share such personal details to anyone other than her immediate family and close friends, which I’m afraid you’re certainly not. So, why would she even mention to you that she had a boyfriend? After all, I believe it’s none of your fucking business...” He retorted with a chuckle, the pent up anger in his chest still remaining under control even though his mind wanted nothing more than to give this woman a stern talking to. “Oh and there’s no need for you to feel sorry for me. I’m sure that I know my own girlfriend better than some woman whose husband got a piece of her liver. After all, that’s all you are right now and all you could ever fucking be. Not to mention that, even though she did save your husband’s life, you do seem to me like that ungrateful shits right now.”

If Steve could laugh and cheer on his best friend right now, he would have done just that. If he had expected this meeting to be a short-lived, cut-to-the-chase kind of transaction, he would have been wrong. He knew that there was no way Bucky could come face to face with this woman and not defend the love of his life. But he struggled to keep a straight face while Bucky dragged your mother through hell like that. Bucky was doing what he could not do and Steve was enjoying every bit of it.

To say that your mother was taken aback by his words would be an understatement. But she was certainly not fazed by his attitude. If anything, this woman was a cold hearted bitch. But what she did not know was that Bucky could be just as cold hearted when he wanted to be. “You’re right. I’m not her family. She lost the right to even call us her family when she ran away, that little rat. And now if she thinks she could just crawl back to us by being this self-sacrificing, attention seeking piece of shit, you tell her that she’s fucking wrong about that. She doesn’t deserve us.”

Both Peggy and Steve were quick to grab onto Bucky’s wrists to make sure that he did not get physical with this woman; even though she probably deserved it for the way she spoke about you. They needed Bucky to remain calm and level-headed until she signed the contract and agreed to leave you alone for good. This was not about Bucky declaring his love for you in front of your mother, but to ensure that you could be safe from all attempts of emotional extortion and be happy.

But Bucky shrugged them off before letting out a laugh that sounded almost bitter. “Oh how delusional must you be, Mrs. Y/L/N, if you think that Y/N would ever dream of coming back to you, as if you were the most perfect mother that she could have ever asked for. If she ran away from you like that all those years ago, I’m sure that she must have had a damn good reason to. I don’t know what the fuck happened back then or why she ran away, but you must have been such shitty parents if she was willing to let the whole town know that you were abusive as fuck. It takes a lot of courage to do that and I’m sure as hell glad that my girl had it in her to get the fuck away from you. I wouldn’t blame her though; she always had excellent judgement when it comes to things like this.” He noted. “Though you’re right about one thing though, she doesn’t deserve you. She deserves better. She deserves so much better than you and your husband’s abusive, selfish, manipulative shit show that you call family. You think you’re her family? That’s the biggest load of bullshit that I’ve ever heard. Family doesn’t treat you any less, make you feel worthless... Family doesn’t cause you pain or make you want to run away. Family doesn’t blame... or shame. Family doesn’t love with stupid, pointless conditions. Look around you, Mrs. Y/L/N, because... we are her fucking family. Not you.” Letting go of Steve and Peggy, he took a step towards your mother. “You have no fucking right to call yourself her family when you tracked her down to this hospital and deliberately tried to extort money from her.”

Your mother was wavering at his words and he knew that. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that!”

“What?! Did you really think that no one knew about your oh so elaborate plan to tie Y/N down and emotionally manipulate her into paying you a shit ton of money?!” Bucky asked as his lips curled into a smirk. “We’re not idiots, Mrs. Y/L/N. Y/N left your asses in New Hope years ago and you two show up here in Brooklyn just as your husband’s liver ‘s about to fail? Did you really think we’d be dumb enough to think that it’s a fucking coincidence?! Y/N may not have been suspicious because you were biologically her parents, but I had my suspicions. I’m sorry to tell you this, ma’am... but there are a hell of a lot of people in this god damn hospital who actually give a shit about her and her well-being and we’re not letting you and your husband get away with trying to emotionally manipulate her. All it took was one damn phone call to the doctor who referred you over to us and he said you asked specifically to be here.” It was true. Becca had been in contact with the doctor who had referred your father over to Natasha, on your mother’s request apparently. “Now that makes me wonder why... because it doesn’t take that long to look Y/N up on Google to know that she works here. Believe me, I would know. I’ve Googled my name a few times to see what comes up.”

Peggy could have sworn that the color had drained from your mother’s face. She turned over to look at her husband with wide eyes, unable to even comprehend that Bucky was really giving her a piece of his mind. If she could, she would talk a hell of a lot more than what he was saying. But she let Bucky take the wheel on this, because the fact that these words came out of his mouth made everything a thousand times better.

“Y-You can’t... prove that.”

“You’re right, I can’t prove that. But what I can prove is that you and your husband owe a hell of a lot of money in medical bills that you can’t afford.” Bucky reminded her, his smirk not leaving his face. “I would ask you how you were planning to pay them off but I think we all know the answer to that, don’t we? We all know what you did and we’re certainly not that happy about it. You have no fucking right to ask Y/N to pay you off. She doesn’t owe you shit for the way you’ve abused her for years. Running away from you was the best thing that could have happened to her... do you really think that she’d want to crawl back to you?!”

“She’s my daughter. She clearly wanted to help us. That was exactly why I asked her for the money.” Your mother said, rather confidently. Even she knew that it was that easy to take advantage of your kind heart. It would have been that easy for her though, had Bucky not got in the way of that. Had you been left alone to your own thoughts, you certainly would have caved in to your mother’s demands. But your friends made sure that it did not get to that point.

“Oh... so now you call her your daughter?” He asked her as he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “So, when you need something from her, she’s your daughter. But when you don’t need her, she’s anything but... do you even realize how fucked up you are?!”

“Bucky!”

James Barnes held his hand up to silence his friend, his gaze not leaving the woman who gave birth to you. “You don’t own Y/N, Mrs. Y/L/N. You may have abused her and manipulated her while she was your child but she’s not a child anymore. She ran off and grew the fuck up. She became a much better person than you could have ever raised her to be and you deserve no fucking credit for what she’s done with her life! She’s not giving you any money.”

“You can’t decide that-”

“Actually, I can!” Bucky cut her off. “And I’m telling you. She’s not giving you a single penny from her hard earned money and I’ll fucking make sure of it, if it’s the last thing I do. She’s already given your husband a piece of her fucking liver and that’s all you’re ever going to get from her!”

Your mother was disappointed that her plan hadn’t worked. She had been rather confident that you would cave in and pay them off. She thought she had the leverage to get you to provide them a luxurious life, the life that she believed you owed them, your own parents. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do with my husband? We’ll end up on the streets...”

“Then so be it. You drove Y/N to the streets too, didn’t you? Why wouldn’t she just do the same to you when she has the chance?” Bucky asked her. Even though he knew that your heart would never dare to wish something so harsh upon your parents, just mentioning it to your mother brought him a sense of satisfaction.

Your mother’s heart sank at Bucky’s words. Had she been wrong about you? Had your heart been so full of vengeance that you had decided not to pay off their medical bills? Did you really want them to end up on the streets? She found that hard to believe, but you were her daughter after all. Surely, you would have inherited some of her qualities.

“God, I wish Y/N would have done that to you heartless monsters. You fucking deserve it. But she’s a hell of a lot better than that.” He noted, biting down on his bottom lip as he held up his cheque. “You want your daughter to pay off those medical bills? That’s fine... but you’re not getting all that money that easily, Mrs. Y/L/N. There’s no way in hell I’m letting that happen. I love Y/N and I love her more than you could ever love her. So if it means that I have to pay your asses off myself, then so be it.” Looking over at Peggy, Bucky gave her a nod. “I’m offering you triple the amount you owe here and a monthly allowance for as long as you and your husband are alive. Let’s just say that Y/N wants her parents to be well taken care of. So if you agree to my terms, the money is all yours.”

The attorney walked around the table to grab to where she had left the envelope that held the contract that she had drafted rather carefully. “Why don’t you have a seat, Mrs. Y/L/N?” She stated with a smirk, taking a seat as her husband walked over to sit next to her. Let’s have a chat like grown-ups for a change.”

As per Peggy’s instructions, Natasha Romanoff found herself never leaving your bedside while she waited for the moment of truth. She was well aware that the attorney had left you in your hospital room to take care of business and she was not planning on leaving you cooped up in your own thoughts until she knew that she could. She could only leave if Bucky showed up. Peggy had told her not to leave you unless she was leaving you alone with Bucky, so all she could do was hope that Bucky would eventually find himself walking into your room once your mother had signed his contract and accepted his payment.  

Nat’s hand never left yours as she sat down on the chair next to your bed, her eyes darting to the door every now and then as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. To say that she was beyond anxious about what’s to come would be an understatement. What if Bucky had chickened out of this perfect opportunity to confess his true feelings? After her last conversation with him, she knew that there was potential that Bucky would back down from realizing his feelings for you. But she knew how much you needed him right now. You had said so yourself. Hopefully, he knew that too.

The Russian surgeon’s sweaty palm against yours had made you wake up from your short nap. You found yourself rubbing your eyes with your free hand as you looked over at the redhead. “Nat...” You licked your chapped lips as you reached over to grab your plastic cup of water in front of you and took a sip. The dry mouth was the worst part of being in post-op, something that you were hoping that you would be able to get rid of once you were allowed to eat some solid foods. Technically, at this point in recovery, you should have been cleared for solids as your intestines may have started working again. But with your unfortunate accident, that step was delayed by a few days.

“Hey...” The woman perked up as she heard your voice, her soft pink lips curling into a smile as she looked up at you. You could see just how heavy her eyes were. She had worked a full shift, which had ended a few hours ago. Just like Bucky and Steve had spent their time off by your bedside, Natasha was also here for you. It was not like she had anyone to go home to anyways. You knew that she had a younger sister, Yelena, who had recently gone off to college. The empty nest syndrome had hit her quite extensively, so she found herself spending more time at the hospital than she used to. “Are you okay, sweetheart? How’s the pain?”

You gave her a weak smile as she let go of your hand. “Better...” You told her but it may have been the first time you had meant it. “I’m feeling much better, Nat.”

She gave you a nod as she stood up from her seat, reaching over to pull you into another gentle embrace. She was still careful not to mess with the wires that were attached to your body and you wondered how long you had to wait until they could come off. After all, you needed some sort of normalcy. “That’s good. The sutures are still holding. If you’re not in that much pain, we can take those drainage tubes out and switch you to a solid diet.”

“That may be the best news that I’ve heard in a while, Nat. I’ve got to admit that being on the receiving end of surgeries is not that fun. Post-op life is awful.” You let out a sigh of relief at her words, your arms wrapped slightly around her as she continued to hold you. You knew that Natasha was not a hugger like Wanda, but she had certainly taken to giving you the best hugs you could have asked for. You needed them, after all. You had always been touch deprived for as long as you could remember. “You know, I never got to say... thank you, for everything you’ve done in the last couple of weeks.”

“We can only hope that you get more good news soon, Y/N.” She said rather hopefully as she pulled back from the hug. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I was only doing my job. If anyone should be thankful, it should be me. Thank you for trusting me with your life. It meant a lot to me that you were able to see me as a good surgeon, even if you couldn’t see me as your friend back then.”

You let out a content sigh as you reached for her hand once more. “You’re a good friend, Nat.” Grabbing a hold of her hand, you could not help but let out a chuckle. “Hey, your palm’s really sweaty. Are you okay?”

“Oh... yeah, I’m fine.” She replied with a nervous chuckle. “It’s just... it’s nothing.” Rubbing her hands together, she grinned widely at you. “If you continue recovering at this rate, I might even discharge you by the end of next week. Wanda’s taken it upon herself to make a schedule of who gets to watch you when you’re home for the next two months. She’s taken down everyone’s work schedules and she’s working out a plan to make sure at least one of us can be there with you when we’re not working.”

You let out a soft laugh as you shook your head. “Leave it to Wanda for being such a planner.” You noted. The old you would have argued with her, saying how you did not need anyone to watch over you while you were in bed rest. You would have claimed that you could get by on your own and you would have been so wrong about that. But now, you had learned to accept whatever your friends had to offer you. These were your friends, your real friends, the ones who were in it for life. They were going to be a part of your life forever.

The sound of Dr. James Barnes’ tennis shoes squeaking against the tiled floors of the hospital made Natasha turn over to the door and sigh in relief. “Barnes.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned towards the door to see the man whom you had been longing to see. You took in the sight of him, for he looked like a breath of fresh air. His familiar navy blue scrubs and black tennis shoes reminded you of the night when you had first met, his advice to you and the reassurance that keep with it. This hospital was where you belonged. His silky long hair parted in the middle, the same way it had been the night he had walked into your clinic to apologize to you after a minor misunderstanding. He had given you that much respect and courtesy, which you could never forget. His icy blue eyes, they were so easy to get lost in, but for the first time in years you had finally noticed just how full of love they were. This was the man who taught you what it meant to be better. This was the man who taught you what it meant to be loved.  

Natasha smiled at him before turning over to look at you, taking her cue to leave. “I should get going, Y/N. I’ll see you during rounds tomorrow.” Leaning over to gently stroke your hair, she placed a friendly kiss on the top of your forehead. “You keep those sutures in place until I get back, you hear me? Pull anything funny on me and you won’t hear the end of it.”

You let out a laugh as you turned back to her. “You got it, doc. Drive safely and call me when you get home, please? Just so that I know that you got home safely.”

“Sure, but don’t try to miss me too much.” She gave you a thumbs up as she grabbed her belongings and made her way towards the door. When she reached Bucky, she gave him a warm smile before pulling him into a hug. “Goodnight, Bucky.” She told him before lowering her voice. “If you dare to chicken out right now, I’ll fucking murder you...” With that warning, she kissed him on the cheek and pulled back from the hug, only to make her way over to the doctors’ lounge where the rest of her friends were waiting.

Bucky let out a chuckle as Natasha walked away, his gaze turning back to the woman he loved. “According to my photographic memory, I’m pretty sure that Antonio’s contract with Shylock didn’t mention any jot of blood...” He trailed off as he walked around your bed. “He just offered a pound of his flesh.”

“Need I remind you, Dr. Barnes, that the reason why Shylock couldn’t get what he wanted at the end of that play... was because there was no way one could even cut out a piece of flesh without spilling some blood. You can’t have one without the other. That’s why Portia, in disguise as Balthazar, tricked him in court like that.” You told him as you laughed softly at his reference to The Merchant of Venice. “But you’re right. The contract didn’t mention any jot of blood. That’s why Shylock couldn’t get a pound of Antonio’s flesh and in the end; he lost all of his wealth.”

“Even after Bassanio’s offer to pay him three times the bond that Antonio owed him.” He added, biting down on his bottom lip as he sat at the edge of your bed, setting down the envelope that he had been holding onto.

“Antonio had good friends...” You noted with a smile, your hand reaching over to take his. “And Antonio was a good friend. That’s why he was willing to put down a pound of his own flesh down on that contract in exchange for that bond.”

“Speaking of contracts...” He let out a sigh as he picked up the envelope and handed it over to you. “I took care of your mother, handled your father’s medical bills here and also whatever outstanding medical bills they had back home. I can imagine how awful it must have been for you, when she had asked you to pay them off like that. When Steve told me that you pulled a suture, I... I’m sorry about what happened, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you. Maybe if I had stayed with you, she wouldn’t have come in here and talked to you like that.”

You could see the look of guilt in his eyes and it pained you to know that he blamed himself for what had happened to you. “James, no... it wasn’t your fault. I was a fucking idiot, not being careful with my sutures and jerking to the side. Of course, it came off. It was my fault.”

Bucky could not help but crack a smile at your words. “You’re such a drama queen, Y/N. If you really wanted to live like you’re in the Merchant of Venice, all you had to do was hop on a plane.”

“Well, what can I say... I liked having ‘Dr. Long Hair Don’t Care’ at my beck and call for an entire day.” You shot him a cheeky wink as you looked down at the envelope that he had handed you, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips as you dumped the contents of it onto your lap. You picked up the contract that your mother had signed, agreeing to cut all ties with you in return for Bucky’s payment. “Wow... she really signed this?” You asked him as you looked up to meet his eyes, a hint of disbelief evident in your voice.

Bucky gave you a nod. “I’m sorry, I... didn’t meant to... take away the only family that you had. I just wanted to protect you from-”

“No, I get it, James.” You cut him off as you gave him a genuine nod. “If she could even try to extort money from me when I was high on pain meds, God knows what she could do when I wasn’t. It would have been a never ending circle of me being an idiot and her taking advantage of that. You put an end to it, so... thank you for that.” Your lips curled into a smile as you continued to hold onto his hand, not wanting to let go. “My only concern is that... did she even hesitate to sign it?”

He did not want to let go either. He let out a sigh as he scooted closer towards you. “No, she... signed right away. She agreed to the terms and... took the payment.” He did not see a point in lying to you anymore, or hiding the truth for that matter. He knew that you needed to know everything and he was going to tell you everything.

You let out another sigh as you felt your eyes glaze over with salty tears. “So, my mother... had no second thoughts about letting go of the one and only daughter that she had... in exchange for money? So what? As of today, I don’t have a mom... or a dad? Not that I ever did, I didn’t have a mom when I really needed one...” And so, you opened up the part of you that you had always kept closed, the memories of that dreadful night flooding back to you as you finally let him in on your tragic past. “When I was little, my father used to say that I was the best thing that had ever happened to him... that I was his angel, his lucky charm. He used to say that his business picked up after I was born. He was... my dad. I think I was six or seven when my parents went bankrupt. I didn’t even know what it meant back then. All I knew was that dad was no longer going to work and mom got a job at the motel where all the tourists came to stay.” You reached over to wipe away your tears with your free hand. “Things changed after that. My dad started to hate me. He blamed me for everything that’s been happening to our family. I didn’t know what I had done wrong but... my dad didn’t love me anymore.”

Bucky let out a sigh as he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm gently around you as he let you lay your head against his shoulder. “I mean... I knew about that.” He admitted. “I got my PI sister to look into your parents because I got a little suspicious about their intentions. I wanted to make sure that they weren’t after your money and I was right about it.”

You let your head rest against his shoulder, not even paying attention to what he had just told you. It was not that important. All that mattered to you was that he was here and you were safe. “He started drinking a lot. My mother took me to school when she went off to work and I got picked up by the neighbors because she worked late. I would get home to an empty house, get started on dinner and wait for my drunken father to get home. I always did what they asked me to do, kept the house clean and tidy, cooked and put food on the table every night, finished my homework while I waited for him. He got home in time for dinner, didn’t always eat the food but... he always...” You bit down on your bottom lip as the tears continued to stream down your face, not knowing how to say this. “He started hurting me.”

Bucky clenched his fist as your words, the thought of your childhood self being physically abused crushing his heart in an instant. His blood was starting to boil but he held onto you, never wanting to let go. He knew how much you needed him right now.

“There were nights when I would... set the table, eat quickly, do all of my homework and hide in my bedroom until the next morning. I tried to stay out of his sight so that he wouldn’t hurt me, scared... absolutely paranoid. My mother never knew because she was always at work. She didn’t get home until like... really late at night. But after a few years, it got too much... I couldn’t keep doing it, James. I was scared and hurting and... all I wanted was for someone to just... not hurt me, hold me, tell me that things are going to get better.” Sniffling away your tears, you looked up at him for a moment. “I put up with it all for a few years before I decided that I was done with it all. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed my mother to know what was happening while she wasn’t home. It was the night before Valentine’s Day... when I was in my junior year of high school. My mother was home that night because she got the day off. The motel usually gets booked up on Valentine’s Day so they gave her a day off. I got home from school and... I went up to her... gathered up all of my courage and told her what was going on. I think I was expecting her to be furious with my father, to... be my mother, get me the help that I desperately needed. But she... she started... she didn’t believe me and she...” You broke into a sob against his shoulder, your tears staining through his scrub shirt. But either of you could care less about that. “She couldn’t... she couldn’t do what moms are supposed to do. She couldn’t hold me or tell me any comforting words. She couldn’t... I thought she would at least act like my mother for once but she...”

Bucky let out a sigh as he shut his eyes, letting the tears stream down his face as he continued to hold onto you. His hand gently stroked through your hair, his touch a soothing one that filled you with warmth. In his arm, you felt safe, for you were finally free from your dreadful past. Your life was now better, all thanks to him. “You... you ran away that night, didn’t you?” He asked you, and you could hear his voice breaking as he spoke. You knew that at that moment, what he felt for you was not pity. It was something much more than that. It was empathy. It was care. It was love.

You nodded your head as you recalled the events that followed your mother’s outburst. “My mother was in the kitchen, making dinner for my father for when he comes home. I hopped in the shower because... I wanted to cry, I wanted to cry so badly. I don’t know where I heard this but... someone had once told me that the best place to cry was the shower. No one would hear you over the running water and if anyone walked in on you crying, they wouldn’t know that you were crying because they can’t see tell the difference between your tears or the running water. I just wanted to cry... but I didn’t want to face whatever would have happened when my father got home and my mother told him what I told her. I was done with it all but how long could I just stay in the shower? I knew I had to get out of there, at that very moment. I hopped out of the shower but I left the water running, threw on whatever clothes I could find... a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie. It was snowing so much. I’m pretty sure it was a blizzard or something but I didn’t care. At that point, I would rather freeze to death than stay with them. I’d left jacket and my boots by the front door so... I couldn’t go and grab them. I didn’t want my mother to hear me. All I had on my feet were shower flip flops. I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t pack a bag or anything. I just grabbed a handful of cash that I had been saving up. Where was I going? What was I going to do? How was I going to manage anything? I didn’t care... I just needed to get out of there and everything would be better.” You pulled back from his embrace for a moment, wiping away your tears as you noticed that James was also in tears. Seeing his face made you pull him back into a hug and you let out a sigh. “I opened my bedroom window, jumped out... slid down the roof really and managed to land in a mound of snow. My flip flops fell off of my feet and I couldn’t see where they landed. I was running around... bare feet. It was cold, James. It was really cold. I could feel the snow crunching against my feet but I managed to grab my flip flops. My feet were numb, I couldn’t even stand. My hair was still wet; it just froze up in a few seconds. Before I could even think twice about what I was doing, I ran. I ran as fast as my feet could take me and my flip flops kept coming off. I didn’t care. I didn’t know where to go at first... but the only place I knew to go was my school. It took me a half hour to get there. It had always been my safe place. It was the day before Valentine’s Day, a Thursday. It was the night before the school dance and they were setting up for it. I managed to sneak inside when some people were trying to move some sound equipment into the gym. I went straight into the girls’ bathroom, locked myself in a stall and cried. I was freezing, I couldn’t breathe, my hair was frozen, I was pretty sure I was going to get frostbites... I was terrified, James. I didn’t know if I could even make it through the night. I didn’t know if my mother had figured out that I ran away. What if she saw that I left my window open, what if she saw my footsteps in the snow and followed me here. I was so scared. I felt so alone and lost. At that moment, I thought that I had no one in this world to call myself my family. I had nobody.”

Bucky wanted to tell you that you had him now. Everything was going to get better. But he could not get himself to speak, for he was still processing what you had just told him. He pulled back from the hug to wipe away his tears, his hands clutching onto yours as though he wanted to massage some warmth into them. Your hands were not cold at that moment. They were sweaty. You were safe. But he could not believe how much those hands had been through, what they had to survive in order to get where they were.  

“One of my teachers who happened to be helping set up for the dance... she found me. When I told her what happened, she just took me back to her house. Let me warm up and she let me spend the night at her place. She took me to the sheriff’s office the next morning and... I’ve been alone since then, James. Never got back what I lost that night, no family, no friends... no sense of being loved or belonging. I lost it all that night... in that snowy... winter night.” Your lips curled into a weak smile as you leaned over to cup his cheeks. “And I found what I lost years ago... on another snowy wintry night, but this time in Brooklyn. My feet were crunching against the snow but I was wearing my boots. I wasn’t freezing, I had my coat on. I wasn’t lost, I had a destination and it was home. And I wasn’t alone... I was with you. I was with you, James. You valued me enough to come looking for me, find me and... give me that respect. You told me that I was capable of being much better than what life had to offer me and... You are so much better than everything that life’s had to offer me, James... because on another winter night, I got back everything I lost. And it was all because of you.”

“Goodnight, Dr. Barnes.” You gave him a wave as you began to walk into the diner, stopping in front of the door before turning around to look at him. “Hey… James?”

He had turned around to cross the street once he waved you goodbye when you had called out to him. At first he was a little startled that you had referred to him by his first name, as you had never done that before. Besides, no one else other than his parents had called James. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” You told him as you gave him a genuine smile.

He nodded, smiling brightly as he ran his hand through his hair. And it was at that moment on that cold winter night did Y/N Y/L/N manage to thaw out the cold dead heart of James Buchanan Barnes. But what he did not realize that night was that he had managed to thaw her out too.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky finally said the words that he had been holding onto for years, his hands placed on top of yours as he tilted his head down so that your foreheads could touch. “I’ve loved you ever since that snowy night, when you called me by my name and thawed out my cold head heart with a single smile. I’ve loved you ever since I realized that you were a much better doctor and a much better human being than I could ever be. I’ve loved you because you never let life get the worst of you. You always made things better for yourself and everyone around you. You made me better, you make me better.” The never ending tears continued to stream down his face as he finally confessed his true feelings. “I love when you care for everyone around you. I love that you’re selfless. I love that no matter how bad life had treated you, you never gave up. I love that you always thrived to be better. I love how much you care about your patients. I love how you treat the hospital staff as equals. I love you for who you are, because you are worthy of being loved. Even if you’ve never been loved by anyone in your whole damn life, even if you think that you don’t deserve to be loved, I want you to know this. You are loved, Y/N. You are loved so fucking much, by your James.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 88

Warnings: none

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

The final attempt at sleep had been successful. Although the road ahead of him is destined to be long and extremely difficult -and no doubt agonizing- his brief moment of wakefulness had done wonders to life Esme’s spirits. That chance to speak to him; to see him open his eyes and know -with one hundred percent certainty- that he was able to acknowledge her. It wasn’t a drug induced incoherent rambling or hallucination. He actually saw her and was able to engage; giving appropriate responses and showing concern for her and the baby. Able to express how he was feeling and that telling her he loved her. No one could ever possibly understand how just incredible that small moment was, or what an enormous impact it had on her state of mind. She knows it won’t be easy. There will be weeks, even months, of healing; tremendous pain and more hard times than easy ones. A full recovery could take as long as a couple of years; countless rounds of physical rehab will be needed and most likely therapy for mental health and addiction issues.  But he’s already shown just how tenacious and strong he actually is; his will to live a lot more powerful than the agony he’s experiencing. With so much to live for, his desire to be with his family again is his main driving force, and she knows he’ll be willing to do whatever it takes to get back on his feet again.

Nathan may have been able to break his body, but he hadn’t made a dent in his spirit.

The burden she’s been carrying -the fear, worry, and uncertainty- had been lessened, and she’d been able to drift off; both body and mind allowing her to rest. So soundly in fact, that she’d only briefly stirred in the wee hours of the morning when Julie had come in while on her rounds. Merely lifting her head from the pillow; quietly observing as the nurse switched empty IV and medicine bags with full ones. Then she’d simply rolled over, pulled the blankets over her head, and easily drifted off.

Her sleep once again had been filled with dreams of the past. Millie’s first steps and how ecstatic and proud Tyler had been; never getting to experience many of Austin’s milestones because of deployments. How tearful he’d been the morning he’d walked into her room and Millie -who’d  been standing up in her crib, excitedly bouncing up and down at the mere sight of him- had called him ‘daddy’ for the very first time.  And the way he’d broken down in the delivery room when the twins had been born -even harder than he had when his daughter came into the world- and the nurse had given him TJ and said “Here’s your son”.   He’d lost his first, and getting that moment again -a baby boy presented to him- had profoundly affected him  A man that rightfully shouldn’t even have been alive. Who’d been given a second chance and at times didn’t feel as if he deserved it. There are still times he thinks that way. When the demons of the past resurface and play havoc on his brain; convincing him that the mistakes of a younger man and the amount of blood on his hands has turned him into a monster. It’s the nightmare of living with mental health issues and PTSD; those dark moments where he questions his mere existence and openly states that he doesn’t deserve the life he has now; a wife and children that love and accept him unconditionally.  

It’s hard for people to understand. How a man that is so big and so strong -and often intimidating- can have those kinds of thoughts and vulnerable moments. But they don’t know everything that he’s battled. His childhood is one of his best kept secrets; only her and Koen know the full extent of his father’s behaviour, the abuse inflicted, and the long term damage it has caused. It’s not something he readily talks about; even with her.  That toxic masculinity still gets the better of him at times. His father’s attempts at beating into him that a man -a REAL MAN- doesn’t show emotion; it means that he’s weak and there’s nothing more pathetic than being weak. And she’s tried to break him of it; years spent assuring him that he isn’t a weak man.  A weak man would have given up in that storage facility. In the same way he would have given up on the Sultana Kamal Bridge seven years ago.  And he certainly never would have survived the nightmare of his upbringing. Nor would he be so determined to be a better man; the kind of husband and father that a wife and kids can brag about and proud of. Who never have to live in fear of him ; cowering every time he raises his voice or even comes too close to them. Who know -beyond the shadow of a doubt- how much he loves him.

Tyler Rake is anything BUT weak. And he’d shown that the night before.  Somehow finding a way to battle his way through this thick haze of multiple medications; gathering the strength to not only open his eyes, but actually think coherently and communicate. He was right. He DOES do whatever he wants.

When she finally wakes, it’s to the patter of rain against the window and the sounds of hospital life trickling through the half open door. Doctors being paged, the shrill ring of patients’ using their call buttons to summon for help, the loud rattle of gurneys being pushed through the halls. It’s a harsh reminder of her current situation; stuck in the ICU of a private hospital in Dhaka, thousands of miles away from her children and the comforts and security of her own home.  She misses it. The sound and the smell of the ocean. The morning breeze and sunshine as she stands out on the back deck enjoying that first cup of tea, watching her husband as he helps Millie and the twins search -and dig, at times- for shells, rocks, and beach glass. Often wondering who is enjoying the quality time more; father or children. The  dinners cooked on an open fire down by the water; the smiles brought to their faces -and that unconditional love and immense pride in his eyes- as they watch their children play and listen to those little voices and musical giggles floating on the air. And those strong, protective arms wrapped around her from behind as she sits between his legs. Her head resting against his chest as they quietly marvel at the sky; painted vivid shades of orange and pink as the sun sets.  

It’s a life she had never even dared to dream about; a beautiful home in an even more even more beautiful place,  amazing children and a husband that is faithful and loyal and only has eyes for her.  All those things that she’d come to believe SHE didn’t deserve and had long ago given up on finding. How poetic in a way; two broken people coming together to make a slightly dented whole.

Sighing heavily, she rolls from side to back; eyes closed as she stretches and yawns The morning sickness has returned. With a vengeance. More than likely made worse by lack of food and the stress and worry that have accompanied the last twenty four hours. When she manages to quell the threatening nausea and brief spell of dizziness, she opens her eyes and sits up, finding a small paper bag sitting on the extra pillow beside her; name written on the front of it in black marker. And the contents bring the first genuine smile since yesterday morning; aside from Tyler’s brief period of consciousness. A bottle of prenatal vitamins, a small carton of chocolate milk, and an enormous blueberry muffin. Accompanied by a handwritten note from Julie; asking Esme to promise she’ll look after herself AND the baby, assurance that she’ll be back on in the evening, and her home phone number. The latter being offered as not only a ‘helpline’ if she feels overwhelmed and scared and needs someone to vent and cry to, but so she can give the nurse a list of some of her favorite foods. Julie vowing to bring a selection when she clocks in for her shift. It’s refreshing; having someone WANT to take care of her in that motherly fashion. Especially when her own has been anything but.

She shoves her feet into her sandals and climbs off the bed; returning  it to its couch form. “Hey baby,” she greets as she stands at the side of Tyler’s bed; combing her fingers through his hair and pressing her lips to his temple. “Good morning.  I hope you slept god. You didn’t snore, I know that much. That’s a first, huh? Me not complaining about your snoring? Must have been a really good sleep for you to be THAT quiet. You deserve it; that kind of sleep. Your face looks a little better, I think. Not as swollen. Pretty bruised though. And you’re going to have a couple wicked scars at the end of this.”

Her fingers gently touch the stitches below and above his eye.

“You’d probably joke about how it balances your face out; the right catching up with the left in the scar department.  I think they’re going to make you even sexier. Which should be illegal, if you ask me. One man being that sexy?  No wonder you’re a DILF. The thirsty ladies may drive me crazy, but I can’t really blame them. Right now I’m kind of mad at you though. I am so nauseous. And I swear, the bump is even bigger this morning...look…”   she pushes her fingers through his, then draws their joined hands through the safety railing and places them on her stomach.  “...bigger, right? You can’t tell me this is normal. None of the other ones were this size so soon. Not even Declan, and he was over ten pounds when he was born. And you better not be thinking multiples; one is all we can handle right about now.  Let’s not bite off more than we can chew, alright? Six is more than enough. And speaking of babies, I’m going to ask Ovi to bring Addie here. She’s tiny still, Tyler. She shouldn’t be away from us this long. Especially me. She needs to be with her momma. And I think it would do you some good, too; having at least one of them here. So that’s my decision and you’re just  going to have to live with it.”

She moves his hand back inside the confines of the bed, gently setting it on the mattress

“I love you,” she says, and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You keep sleeping, okay? And I hope if you’re dreaming, it’s good things for a change.”

****

She gives a small start when she exits the bathroom and finds Koen sitting in the bedside chair. Sipping from a take out cup of coffee and freshly shaven;  his face bearing its own fair share of bruises and a handful of  butterfly bandages keeping small, superficial wounds closed.

“Morning, sunshine!” He cheerfully greets, and nods to the cup of tea and a bag of fast food breakfast sitting on the window ledge. “I finally get to see you in your sexy jammies.”

Esme gives a derisive snort. “You DO have issues if you find sweatpants and an oversized shirt sexy,” she says as she journeys over to the window “I was going to give you shit for scaring the crap out of me, but seeing as you come bearing gifts, I’ll let it slide.”  She peers into the bag, a grin tugging at her lips. “Either it was just a lucky guess, or you somehow know that when I’m pregnant, I always crave breakfast burritos.”

“There’s a lot I know about you. Someone talks about you. All the time.  Mostly about shit I don’t need to know.”

“Well I’m glad you listened. Because this is a very nice surprise. Thank you,” she lays a hand on his shoulder and presses a kiss to his cheek. “And what’s up with this?” She lightly taps a hand against the side of his face. “All cleaned up. Smooth like a baby’s bum.”

“I thought there might be some hot nurses walking around. Want to put my best foot forward. Maybe you can hook me up; put in a good word for me.”

“Why would you want to hook with someone here? You’ll be going home soon.”

“Exactly.”

“Ewww…” she grimaces. “...I don’t need to know that you’re a ‘pump and dump’.”

“Considering the things I’ve had to hear from you and him?”  Koen nods in Tyler’s direction. “What I said is tame. I’ve actually had to listen to you two….”

“I thought you were moving on from random hookups?”  Esme remarks, and she perches on the arm of his chair and delves into one of the burritos. “I thought you were getting too old for that shit?”

“Excuse me, who are you calling old?”

“I thought Tyler was rubbing off on you. That he was some sort of inspiration to you and Rata; convincing you two it was time to stop sowing your wild oats and settle down once and for all.  Didn’t you say it gave you hope? That if...and I quote…’someone can put up with the likes of him, that’s proof there IS someone out there for everyone’.”

“I did say that.”

“So what gives? Why are you looking for a random? You deserve more than that”

“Well if he was awake and could tell me where to find another one of you, I’d be all set.”

“Sorry. I’m limited edition. And I’ve already been claimed. A couple breakfast burritos just aren’t enough to make me divorce my husband and run away with you. It definitely takes more than that.”

“I knew I should have gotten you hash browns too.”

“That would have done it! Boy, did you ever blow that.  I would have for sure ran away with you. Right this very second.”

“You know, as much as I enjoy our little banter, I don’t think I could handle you.”

“Oh, you definitely couldn’t.  It takes a special breed of man, believe me. And I’m serious; aren’t you tired of NOT having someone to call your own? Someone to go home to at the end of the day? Someone that is your ‘be and end all’? Your ‘ride or die’?. You deserve to be happy. I WANT you to be happy.”

“I think Tyler took all the happy and didn’t leave any for anyone else.”

“When we get home, I am finding someone for you. I don’t care what it takes; I will put you on every dating site out there.”

“What about your sister? Or step sister. Whatever she is.”

“Riley? Are you serious? She’s twenty three!”

“And?”

“And you’re thirty years older than she is!”

“How old do you think I am?”

“I know you’re eight years older than Tyler. He’s almost forty two. So I lied; you’re only twenty seven years old than she is.”

“And?”

“And that’s fucking disturbing!”

Koen shrugs. “She’s cute”

“She is. You know who else finds her cute? Women. Who she is into. And she’s not a switch hitter.”

“Doesn’t take after her older sister, huh?”

Esme frowns. “He told you THAT, too?”

“He’s told me a lot of things, sunshine. You forget; he’s a chatty drunk. Until he’s a depressed and weepy drunk, that is.”

“There are many sides to him you don’t get to see. Sober sides. And don’t worry; my sister isn’t in contention, but I WILL find someone for you.   And speaking of someone, where’s your sidekick?”

“He saw something downstairs he liked.”

“Really…” she playfully wriggles her eyebrows. “...blond or brunette?”

“Something in the gift shop. For the baby.”

“He knows?”

“EVERYONE knows.”

“Yaz has a big mouth,” Esme grumbles. “We weren’t going to tell anyone until we got home and found how far along I am. It’s what Tyler and I wanted.”

“I could gather a guess. About how far.”

“Sure you could,” she mutters. “And why do you keep looking at me like that? Why do you keep staring at my crotch?”

“I’m looking at your stomach. Where’d that come from?”

“It’s been there. I’ve just been hiding it because no one was supposed to know! Now that everyone does,  I guess I don’t have to wear baggy clothes anymore.  And it’s big, right? The bump? Bigger than any of the others?”

“How should I know? I only saw you pregnant with Millie and Addie. Never saw  you with any of the boys.”

“It’s never been like this so soon! How big IS this baby?”

“Look at the size of the kid’s father. Maybe it’s taking after him. Or maybe there’s more than one.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you think it? Don’t put that out into the universe. There’s just one. That’s it. That will make it six. A nice even number.”

“Number six must be pretty damn big then.”

“You know what? You’re off my Christmas card list. There’s no way we’re running away together. You totally shit the bed. No second chances for you.

“What if I bring you chocolate?”

“Not even then. You just had to jinx the entire thing.”

Koen gives an over dramatic pout.

“Buddy, I have seen better pouts on a much bigger man. That won’t work on me. You have nothing on Tyler’s pout.”

“He doesn’t pout.”

“He sure as shit does. I’m going to prove it one day. I’m going to catch him doing it and take a picture. Then I’ll have the evidence. Tanner has the EXACT same pout; he mostly does it when he’s sleeping.”

“Speaking of pictures, I’ve got a little something for ya.”   Koen reaches into the side pocket  of his cargo pants, pulling out his cell and then thumbing through the gallery; choosing the image he wants and offering the phone to her. “Thought it would make you smile. The world’s a shitty place when you don’t. You got yourself a pretty nice smile.”

“You’ve been taking ass kissing lessons from the best, haven’t you,” she chides, then pops the last of her breakfast into her mouth and wipes her hands on her thighs. “Oh...my...god…”  she breathes, and almost squeals in delight at the sight before her. Her husband long before the hardness and weariness brought on by his time in the military, substance abuse issues, and the dangers of the job. Before all of those demons took hold of him and he’d yet to go under a tattoo artist’s needle and no scars marred his body.  Tall and lean; broad shouldered and bearing the start of the strong and solid physique of a soldier. A brush cut and a smooth, clean face; the smile -genuine and pure- making his eyes crinkle and sparkle.

“Back when he couldn’t even grow a proper beard yet,” Koen muses. “When he was still wet behind the ears. Nothing hard ass about that bloke in the picture, is there.”

“Where did you get this?” Esme can’t explain it; the tug at her heart and the emotion choking at her and the tears that well in her eyes. There’s something so surreal about it; seeing the person you love long before a hard and unpredictable life got a hold of them.

“Found a box of old pictures when I was going through some stuff back home. Meant to show it to him, but never got around to it. You mentioned before that you’ve never seen what he looked like before...well...before all of this.”

“I’ve only ever ever seen one picture of him. When he was five; with his mom on his first day of kindergarten.  He doesn’t have any other ones; he says it’s not worth the grief he’ll get if he asks his dad if he has any.   This is…I don’t know...it’s amazing. You have no idea what this means to me; seeing this. ESPECIALLY right now. This is everything. You can’t possibly understand what this does for me.”

“I think I do. I know how you feel about him. That you’re just as much a fool in love as he is.”

“I certainly am,” she smiles. “How old is he here?”

“Nineteen. Hadn’t been out of basic long; a couple weeks maybe. When he was a cocky little shit and as green as fresh baby shit.  Cute, ain’t he?”

“Very cute. It’s weird seeing him like this. I’ve only seen MY Tyler. The one I’ve spent seven years with.  I’ve never seen THIS Tyler. I know that sounds strange.”

“I’ve heard stranger.”

“Fourteen year old me would have had a huge crush on him.”

“What was fourteen year old Esme like?”

“Awkward. Geeky. Short as fuck and chubby.  I had braces and jet black hair and I dressed like a goth. Big old Doc Marten boots that went up to my knees and everything.”

“Now THAT I’d like to see.”

“I don’t even have pictures of ME when I was that young. Tyler’s never seen old photos of me, either. I think the youngest he’s ever seen me was when I was twenty-three and just got into the Corps.  It’s what happens; when your family is toxic and you’d rather not deal with them. Can you send this to me? I’d  love to have this. And I’d love to show the kids. Especially Millie. She’d like to see her daddy when he was young and cute.”

“I’ll send it to ya. And when we get home, I’ll bring that box down and we can go through it. I’m sure there’s more you’d love to have. “

“Thank you.” She can’t hold back the tears. “You have no idea what it means to me. Even just having one picture. And I’m sorry; that I’m a whiny bitch baby. I would like to be able to blame it on the baby and my hormones, but it’s not those things. It’s just me. I’m not exactly having the best twenty four hours. I miss my kids. I hate being so far away from them. Especially Addie. But I can’t leave Tyler here. I just can’t.”

“I could stay,” Koen offers. “He wouldn’t be alone, you know that.”

“And I appreciate it, I do. But I need to be here with him. I didn’t leave him seven years ago, and I’m sure as hell not leaving him now. It’ll be better; when he gets sent to a hospital back home. Closest one is an hour from the house. It’ll be better than.”

“Well I’ll stick around as long as you need me to. Sort of made a promise that I’d take care of ya. I ain’t breaking it.”

“You’re all heart, Koen. You can pretend to be surly and hard ass all you want. I’m onto you.”

“Yeah, well I kind of like that giant, dumb ass bloke you’re married to. And you’re growing on me. So I figure I might as well step up and take his spot and treat like you like the queen you are.”

“You smooth talker,” she teases, ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. For the picture. You really don’t know how grateful I am for it. And thanks for being here; for both of us.”

“Anytime, sunshine.”

“And thank you for being with him yesterday. I could tell he was scared and in pain, and when I think what would have happened if he’d been alone…”

“Well he wasn’t. Alone. So don’t even think about that.”

“Thank you for getting him out of there. At least if he DID die, he wouldn’t have been left there. I don’t think I’d ever get over that; if I had to leave him here. I couldn’t cope with that.”

“Let’s not think about that, yeah? He got through it. He got out of there and it’s only uphill from here.”

“He really thought he was going to die, didn’t he.”

“Honestly? We all thought he was going to die.”

She releases a long, shaky sigh and blinks back tears.  “I’m glad you were there with him. At least if the worst happened, he wouldn’t have been by himself. That is my biggest fear when it comes to the job; that if it DOES happen, he’ll be alone. I don’t know why it bothers me as much as it does. I just don’t want him to be alone...you know...IF…”

“Can’t dwell on stuff like that. You’ll drive yourself insane. Or give yourself gray hair.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t already HAVE gray hair.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“I appreciate you feeding my ego, but I know you can see it. And believe, every one of my gray hairs has Tyler’s name on them. Maybe TJ too. Go figure; the junior being a TRUE junior.”

“That kid is his dad through and through. Tough on the outside, all heart on the inside. And that Millie…”

“Female version of him.”

“Exactly. It’s fitting if you ask me; him having a girl first and her being just like him. Gonna have his hands full with her.”

“She called last night. Wanting to talk to him. She had a bad dream and he always makes her feel better after a bad dream. Daddy’s the one that chases all the monsters away. She has so much faith in him; she knows he’d never ignore her. She’s already questioning why she can’t get a hold of him. I have to tell them; I can’t keep lying to them. And I’d rather they hear it from me than someone else. They’ll take it better if it comes from me, I think.”

Koen nods in agreement.

“But on the bright side, he had a really good night. An amazing night, actually. He woke up. Twice. Once for the nurse, once for me.”

Koen frowns.

“What?”

“He woke up?”

Esme nods. “The first time, Julie...his night nurse…said he woke up and   wanted to know who the hell she was and that he asked for me. And he even told her he was feeling sick and she gave him some meds for it.”

“Hmm…”

“Second time, he opened his eyes and looked right at me. Told me to not cry. He said he wasn’t in any pain and that he was just tired. And he asked if the baby was okay and he said he loved me. It was amazing; to see him open his eyes and hear his voice.”

“Are you sure? That this happened?”

“What do you mean am I sure? Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn't I be?”

“Thought the doctor said they weren’t going to bring him out sedation for a few days? At least.”

“Julie said it isn’t uncommon; moments of wakefulness and some lucidity.  It’s just sedation, it’s not a medically induced coma  like last time.”

“He actually woke up? After everything he went through during the day? All the surgeries, the amount of meds they’re pushing into him? He opened his eyes and talked to you?”

“That’s  exactly what happened. Why are you questioning it? I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“I’m not saying you’re lying. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were hallucinating from lack of sleep.”

“I wasn’t dreaming and I wasn’t seeing things. He woke up, looked at me, and talked to me. It happened. It was real.”

“Esme, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe it was wishful thinking on your part and…”

“It happened,” she insists. “I was there. I witnessed it.”

“And I was there in that storage and in that van. I know what kind of shape he was in; I know how close he was to lights out. Permanently. And you’re telling me, after all the injuries, all the surgeries, all the meds, he just woke up? The same day?”

“I know it sounds crazy. And I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me either. But I SAW it. With my own two eyes. And you know how tough he is; how damn stubborn he is.   Does it really surprise you that of all the people who would fight THIS hard, it’s Tyler?  You know him; you know how strong he is.  You know he’d do anything for me and the kids. So is that big of a stretch that he’d wake up like that? Even if it was just to give me some hope?”

Koen sighs.

“He woke up AND he talked to me. And you know what? It was incredible and made me feel better; to know his brain is working and that he’s not giving up. I needed that; some kind of sign that he’s going to be okay And he gave it to me.”

“So why isn’t he awake now?” Koen challenges.

“Maybe he used up all his energy last night and he needs to build it back up again.”

“If he’s got it in him to wake up last night, he should be awake right now.  I’ve got some shit to say to him for scaring me as bad as he did. How come he’s not up now and talking to me?”

“I don’t know. I only know what happened last night. I only know…”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,” Tyler’s voice -weak, groggy, and slightly slurred by the effects of medication- pipes up. “Now shut the fuck up. You’re given me a headache.”

“See!” Esme smiles triumphantly.  “I told you.”

****

When she returns from taking a much needed shower, she finds Rata outside Tyler’s room tightly clutching a gift bag from the shop in the front lobby and pacing at a near frantic rate. It’s odd to see him this way, clearly frazzled and nervous shoulders tense;  chewing on his bottom lip and occasionally stopping and peering into the room. Normally he’s the ‘life of the party’; clueless in an adorable way, always acting far less intelligent than he actually is  just to get a laugh. Possessing an air of confidence without an ounce of cockiness; quick with sarcastic comments and witty comebacks. The ‘uncle’ that always sits at the kids’ tables during Christmas dinner and then helps build lego sets and put together toy car race tracks instead of socializing with the adults.

“Hey you,” she warmly greets, and lays a comforting hand on his back. “You okay?”

He responds by wrapping her in a huge; strong, muscular arms noticeably trembling.

“You alright?” Esme asks, as she runs her hands up and down his biceps.  “You don’t look so good. What’s going on?”

“I don’t like hospitals much. Especially a place like THIS in a hospital.  Where people are really bad.  EXTRA bad.”

“He’s a lot better than anyone thought he would be. Especially so soon And he doesn’t look THAT awful, I swear. He’s even waking up for a little bits at a time. A person who is ‘extra bad’, wouldn't be doing that, would they?”

“I just don’t know if I can go in there just yet. I mean, I was there. Yesterday. In the van. I saw what he was like; how bad he was. And I’ve never seen Tyler like that. I’ve seen him shot a couple times during our tours in the Middle East, but those were nothing. Just flesh wounds, you know? But that? Yesterday? Those weren’t just flesh wounds. And by the time he got back home seven years ago…”

“He was already somewhat on his feet and in rehab.”

Rata nods. “He was almost back to himself. It’s going to be a long while before he gets back to himself this time.”

“Yesterday was pretty awful, huh?

He releases a small, shaky sigh. “Wasn’t so much how he looked. All the blood and what not. I mean, that was bad, don’t get me wrong. It was fucking awful. Pardon my language.”

“I hear and say worse all the time. You don’t have to filter yourself around me. You’ve met my husband, right? You can’t be easily offended AND stay married to him. It just won’t work.”

“It was terrible. A fucking nightmare. To see a friend of yours THAT messed up. But the worst part? It was what he SOUNDED like. When he was talking to you. I’ve never heard him sound like that. Ever.”

“Neither have I,” she admits. “Not seven years ago, not even the two times he tried to...well, you know.  He never sounded like THAT.”

“Like he was going to die.”

“Yesterday I tried telling myself he didn’t sound that way. That he was just tired and scared and in pain and he just needed it to end. I convinced myself that he didn’t sound THAT bad. Near death. Now I realize I was just trying to make myself feel better, know what I mean?”

Rata nods.

“He was a lot closer to it than I want to admit. I thought nothing could be worse than seven years ago. I was so wrong.”

“It was what he said to you. How he said it. He was pretty sure he was never going to see you again.  That’s the only thing he was really scared of; the thought of not getting to be with you anymore.  You and the kids. You’re his entire world. I didn’t think I realized how much he loves you all until I heard the things that came out of his mouth.   Opened my eyes; made me see him a different way. A good way, just different. He’s lucky. He’s got someone that loves him as much as he loves them. That’s something I think we all want but never seem to find.”

“Sometimes I wonder what I ever did right to deserve him,” she confesses. “And he’s here because of you guys. You and Koen. You did whatever you had to go get him here alive. So thank you. I know it wasn’t easy; what you had to see and do. I was there myself. Seven years ago. I know how hard it is.”

“I feel like such a dick. For not being able to go in there. Like a total pussy.”

“You’re not any of those things. People handle stuff like this in different ways. But you should go in there. He’s really not that bad. And he was awake and talking a bit to Koen. I don’t know if he still is, but I do know he’d like to see you. I know how much he appreciates what you did to help him. I’ll go in with you if that would help.”

“It would. A bit. But first,” he offers the gift bag. “ I have something for you. And the baby.”

“The baby won’t be here for months. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Just a little something.”

She reaches into the bag, smiling at the stuffed tiger that she pulls out of its confines. “How did you remember the tradition? Every Rake baby gets a stuffed animal?”

“Just something that stuck with me, I guess.”

“It’s adorable. Thank you. Better not let Millie get a hold of it. That girl and her stuffed animals, I swear.  You didn't have to do this. You didn’t…”  her voice trails off, fingers reaching for the familiar object tied to the ribbon around the tiger’s neck. Eyes narrowed at first, then slowly widening when the realization sets in it.   “Where did you find this? Where…?”

“I didn’t find it. Tyler gave it to me. Before we got to the storage place. He asked me to give it to you if something went wrong.”

“He did?” Esme unties the thin piece of fabric, sliding the ring off of it and then cradling it in her palm.

“He wanted me to make sure you got it. If he didn’t make it. Said it was important that you got it.”

“I thought it was lost,” her voice cracks with emotion. “I thought maybe he took it off beforehand and put it in his pocket and it fell out. Or that the ER staff misplaced it. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”

“I should have given it to you right away. Yesterday. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying because of what you did or didn’t do. I thought it was gone. Forever. And I know it’s not much; it’s not expensive or fancy or anything like that. But it’s his. All the dents and scratches that he’s on it over the years. Sounds weird, but they all mean something.  I really thought I’d never see it again. And I didn’t think  I’d be as torn about it as I was. But it killed me inside; when I couldn’t find it. It felt like a piece of him was gone and I was just waiting for all the other pieces to disappear too. Thank you; you have no idea how much this means to me. To have this back.”

She hooks the handle of the bag around her wrist, then reaches around to the nape of her neck and removes the necklace -the custom made piece with the beach glass Millie had found- and slips the ring onto the chain.

“I’ll do it,” Rata offers, and steps behind her. Large fingers clumsy and struggling at first, but then manage to secure the clasp.

Esme lays a palm over the ring, firmly pressing it into her chest. Feeling the smooth, cool   metal with its many imperfections, the familiar weight of it against her. And the relief that simple piece of jewellery brings is profound, stifling sobs with both of her hands as she turns and tightly embraces her friend.