#i started with such naive optimism and i really thought for a minute that i could succeed

[silkysousaphone]

You know I get so excited to start a new class and I'm so eager to learn and I'm really opening myself up and allowing myself to be optimistic that this time I can do it and it won't be so hard and I can succeed

And then I try to do these online classes and it's like hit after hit after hit. Nothing is accessible, everything is formatted badly, teachers are unaccomidating, I struggle for hours just trying to fucking read and it's so hard to not just have the life sucked out of you. I hate this so much I hate feeling like I did in high-school like I'm trying to climb a brick wall just to fucking focus, fucking struggling to find any usable accessibility features so I can just keep up.

It really bleeds you dry fighting against everything for hours and falling behind and getting no leeway or accommodations and so you just fail and fail and fail and you hate learning now.

[south-sea]

ECLIPSE ENTHUSIAST!!! never apologize for tag ranting, it just made my day :”)

GO ON ABOUT YOUR LORE! I AM INVESTED AND THIS IS AN INVITATION TO RAMBLE

YES!! i'm almost ashamed to admit i haven't included him in a single AU yet (i'll get to that in a minute), but i love the little guy. he's kind of the groundwork for the AUs i do have that involve the black arms.

i've always been fascinated by the juxtaposition of him and shadow being these child soldier-coded kids held to impossible standards, where shadow is the more "mature" one in whatever sense of the word, while eclipse is a lot more obviously childlike. (in the end, i wouldn't call shadow mature either. how the situation was handled in canon is a good indication of how much he has left to learn, among other things. they are both kids, just at different stages.)

it's been a while since i've read eclipse's issues, but he's always seemed driven by this kind of innocent naive hopefulness. yes, his goals are atrocious from the perspective of a human, but he's doing what he thinks is right, because that's all he knows. he was forced to grow up way too soon, but at heart he's still just a kid. he thinks he's got everything under control and is doing what's best, but it's childishly naive in a way that is so sad when you think about it. he just wants a family, but his dad sees him as a tool, and his brother doesn't want anything to do with him. and yet he still hopes and hopes and wishes because that's what kids do.

shadow learned the hard way and accepted early on that not every story has a happy ending. eclipse, even when faced with the extinction of his own species, adamantly refuses to accept it. even if shadow is at most neutral and not a pessimist, eclipse is the very definition of childlike optimism, despite the responsibilities placed on him and how seriously he takes his role.

and that's one of the things that really stands out to me; how much of a big sibling/parental drive he has. you could argue that was coded into him the same way being a caretaker was coded into shadow, but i kind of latched onto it as something that might be species-wide instead of just eclipse-specific for my AUs. i thought, maybe there's some deeply-rooted parental aspect in black doom, and that's where eclipse inevitably gets it from.

i've got this post that nicely summarizes the two iterations of the black arms i write for! along with this brainstorming one that kind of started it all, and another that touched more on black doom's potential motivations.

ultimately due to the nature of both those AUs and the role shadow did/did not play in them, i'm still trying to cook up a version where eclipse does exist, because i still want alt doom to adopt him lmao.

[kj-1130]

Hihi!

Could you pls do platonic bau w/ a teen intern reader that sings and plays piano in her free time (the v little free time she has) and she has a school show where she plays and sings but her family didn’t go bc they don’t rlly care about it but the bau came to support her!

(Pls I need sweet platonic fluff w/ the cm fam!)

Familial Love

criminal minds x reader

warnings: sadness but fluff at the end

a/n: sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy!

criminal minds masterlist || main masterlist

     You peaked through the curtains once again before looking at your watch. You were supposed to be going on any minute now, but the two reserved seats meant for your parents were still empty. 

     You walked further backstage and leaned against the wall, fidgeting with your hands. You weren’t sure why you had such high hopes for this performance. Perhaps it was because you started piano in hopes to please them. Perhaps it was because they didn’t outright ignore you when you brought the recital up. But there was no amount of wishful thinking that could downplay the facts. 

     These were the same parents who dropped you off on the first day of kindergarten when everyone else walked their children to their classrooms. These were the same parents who couldn’t be bothered to show up to your fifth or eighth grade promotion ceremonies. These were the same parents who never remembered your birthday. These were the same parents who were rarely home and left you with microwave breakfasts and dinners. 

     So maybe your hope was unreasonable. After all, when have your guardians been reliable figures in your life? 

     You scolded yourself internally for continuing to have such a naive mentality. Your parents have never been there for you and most never will be. The optimism only ever left you heartbroken, but it seems that you never learned. 

     You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called over the microphone. It was your turn. You had to push everything to the back of your mind and concentrate on doing your best.

     You walked onto the stage and made your way over to the piano. Sitting down and resting your fingers over the keys, you exhaled, letting any distraction go with your breath. 

     And then you played. 

     You played your heart out, putting all the emotion into it that you could. You let yourself get lost in the music, not a care in the world at the moment. 

     It was over before you knew it. Your daze was broken by the resounding applause throughout the auditorium. You stood with a smile on your face and walked off. 

     The rest of the recital flew by as everyone else completed their acts. Once the show was over, you saw many, if not all, of the students run over to their families and watched with a bitter and sad heart as their parents congratulated them. 

     “Why the long face, sunshine?” 

     You whipped your head around at the familiar voice and saw Derek with the rest of the team behind him. He, along with Emily, were holding flowers. Penelope was holding balloons, a bag that had who knows what in there, and a teddy bear. 

     You leaped into Morgan’s arms and gave him a tight hug. Tears formed in your eyes as you stuffed your face in the crook of his neck. 

     “You came,” you murmured. 

     “‘Course we did. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

     Eventually, you let go and gave everyone else a hug, expressing your gratitude for their presence. 

     “You did so good, pumpkin,” Garcia said, squeezing you extra hard. “I wanted to get you a bigger teddy bear, but Derek said no. But I do have more stuff in the car that I cannot wait to give you and-” 

     “Pen, you really didn’t have to,” you interrupted with a sheepish smile. 

     “But I wanted to,” she said. “Only the best for my favorite person in the whole wide world.” 

     “Hey,” Morgan said with faux offense, causing everyone to laugh. 

     As everyone chatted you looked behind you and saw the two empty seats that seemed to glare at you. 

     “You alright?” 

     You looked back at JJ after another quick glance and faced her with a smile. 

      “Yeah. Couldn’t be better.” 

     The blonde returned the smile and swung an arm around your shoulder, the two of you walking behind the rest of the group as you all walked out of the building. 

     It still hurt but things were better knowing that you had a whole team--a whole family that would be there for you no matter what. 

     “Drinks on me!” 

     “Dave, they’re underage.” 

     “Nobody has to know!”

-_-_-_-_-_-

Taglist 

@sebastian-vettels   @blueposthings @idek-5 @10-19-17uswnt @jesuswasnotawhiteman  @sirsell @augustvandyne  @uselessgay101  @rookie-prentiss @bunnyweasley23 @atlas-nex @daniphantom1 @stillmanicc @annestine @ymzki-haruki @moonslattes @yomama010101 @louisprettybaby

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

A Living Piece

WARNING: this one might be kind of gross? IDK use your best judgement i guess.  

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.\

Adam had always been an optimist, not the naive kind of optimist that hopes everything is going to be alright all the time, but that kind of optimism that assumed he could make it through anything. Perhaps it was less optimist and more a sense of balance that he believed in. Where there are highs there are lows, where there is evil there is good, and where there is pain there is joy. Light cannot exist without dark Yin and Yang sort of logic. Adam had experienced some terrible lows in life, but he had always been comforted by his optimistic assumption that there had to be some balance, his lowest lows had to be balanced out by his highest highs, and the lower he went his only assumption was that there might be an amazing high waiting for him later.

Up to his point in his life that rule had remained true enough. It had started out small of course, his poor school experience balanced out by a food family, his high school experience turning into his training at the academy. Those joyful years learning to fly and meeting aliens balanced right back out with the Drev war, and the incredible low he had hit with the loss of his leg. Getting his ship, losing his eye, meeting sunny and later falling in love with her. All of this and then the birth of his son which was such a high high he could now see that it required an incredibly low low.

One he wasn’t sure he’d be able to come back from.

He didn’t want to leave a widow, or a fatherless child.

Two now since his sacrifice had been successful, but what was to stop Kazna from trying again.

He was only aware of the first few minutes following the trident entering his chest, acutely aware of the way it had torn through one of his lungs and, likely fatally, impacted his heart or close enough to it. He had lain there as Sunny stepped over his body, hot blood beginning to pool under his torso. She hadn’t looked at him, but neither bothrered nor surprised him.

She was a Drev, having her battle partner fall in combat was not uncommon, and the only response that would have seemed optional to her must have been to attack.

He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

And then 

Things began to fade and the world around him flickered. When he closed his eyes, his mind sort of… collapsed, some unseen barrier in his head losing its strength and falling away to let him mind drift outward. Perhaps it was the beginning of the slow degradation of his mind, but that thought was only present as a whisper as his consciousness spilled across the open floor, rolling in a slow inevitable wave like the viscus spreading of honey.

It was Krill’s mind he touched first, Followed by Mitzen, and Conn, and all the way up until he reached Sunny. Her thoughts were familiar to him, comforting like his favorite song, and with a certain cadence personal only to her. It was a driving rhythm but at the same time very steady.

At this point he was too far gone to really  be aware of where he was or what he was doing, but her mind was familiar, comforting, and in an effort to escape a lingering fear and pain, he found himself drawn to her, sinking into her thoughts like warm scalding water. 

There were thoughts on the surface, just the flash of battle, more instinct than thought. Just the rhythm that came with combat.

And that was nice too

And there was anger.

And fear,.

He sunk deeper, deeper than he had ever gone before, unaware at ont point that it had been possible searching for something soft or calm. The memory that he found was neither but it was one he could certainly linger upon… because he hadn’t seen it before

***

Nearly ten months, ten months and the days seemed to stretch into weeks. WIthout a sun overhead to track the passage of time, Sunny had always felt that Arcadia moved slower, somehow. She leaned against the glass of the window in the spiral tower and watched. Below her on the street people crawled like insects over the slowly growing metropolis.

Behind her, water burbled, and the tree waited  as trees always waited in the silence. The place seemed so big now, big and empty with an echo that only reminded her of what was missing. She wasn’t alone of course, off to her right, resting on the couch was waffles, curled into a tight ball, her snout resting gently on her paws. When sunny looked at her, the dog’s tail beat once or twice in acknowledgement. Sunny had to look away from the sad brown eyes and up into the tree where Jeffrey sat curled around a waiting branch.

When hse looked at him, he made a soft chirping noise, but otherwise remained still

She was restless.

Incredibly restless.

She felt like she needed to move, needed to walk. She thought about heading outside and going on a hike into the dark moorlands beyond the city, but thought better of it. So instead she paced around the floor of the apartment and thought about just how distant this all was from how her life had originally been. Billions of miles and countless man hours of invention away from her moss thatched hut back on anin.

Strange how her life had come to this,.

Strange and now kind of sad.

She sighed again and rubbed her lower hands absently against her thighs which, along with her hips, had been aching all week. Aching and joint pain wasn’t something usually ascribed to drev, that was more of a human thing, but here it was. She stepped back from the window, eyes momentarily focusing on her reflection in the dark glass. 

She looked the same as she always had, and was eternally grateful that Drev didn’t change in the way humans did. She trend to the side trying to imagine the big bulbous lump that would have marked a human woman in the latter stages of pregnancy, but as a Drev the signs were subtle and her torso remained mostly unchanged.

That’s what happens when you have more room.

Her inhumanity was the one blessing she could hold onto as, there were a lot of unknowns in this territory that certainly weren’t covered.  Like the looming chance that the child wouldn’t even be viable. There had only ever been one other naturally occurring hybrid birth on Anin, and Krill had been forced to preform an emergency cesarean section on a Finnari mother struggling to contain a human hybrid baby. The baby had been fine of course, but that was a sample size of one.

Sunny had seen the images of course, all of the ultrasounds, and strange technology that let her see her offspring before it was even here. Krill said there was a heartbeat, and it was most certainly moving.

She could feel that well enough.

But being alive inside her and alive on the outside of her were two different things. What if it couldn’t breathe normally. The human and Drev respiratory systems were perhaps one of the most different things about them. How the adapted DNA could moderate that was one of her greatest fears.

Which is why Krill had been staying in the apartment just below them in case something were to happen. 

She turned in a slow circle as the aching in her hips intensified.

Off to the side waffles lifted her head in some interest, and leaped down from the couch.

Sunny patted her head as she moved closer.

Waffles whined.

Sunny frowned, “I fed you this morning didn’t I?”

Waffles backed away from Sunny’s hand and whined again circling her sharply.

Sunny looked at her still with some confusion, ‘I’m sorry I don’t understand.” Waffles whined again and Sunny sighed, stretching her lower back which was now beginning to ache along with her hips, “If you don’t tell me what you want I can’t get it for you. Do you want to go outside/’

Waffles just stared at her.

“You aren’t about to throw up are you. That is a moment I never want to experience again, thanks. If you eat weird things you get what is coming to you.

Waffles just whimpered again.

“I don’t speak-” she paused and leaned against the window, “Ouch.” Her entire back, her hips, and referred pain all the way down to her knees,

This was getting stupid,

“Well if you don’t need anything I’m going to find some scalding hot water to soak in.” She said mumbling under her breath heading through the door to her room and into the bathroom. She pointedly ignored her reflection in the mirror and walked over to the shower, which she switched on to let warm. Adam always complained she liked to take her showers at Volcanic heat, and it wasn't long before the bathroom was filled with steam and radiating heat.

It must have been the heat that did  it, thousands of years of ritual birth on the edge of volcanos. Perhaps it was simply the heat that did it, but the aching in her hips suddenly sharpened, rolled upwards into her abdomen where all of the muscles in her lower body seemed to tighten all at once against her bidding.

She gripped the edge of the counter before the pain passed leaving her with the dull aching again.

Sunny stared at her foggy reflection in the mirror, and then poked her head out into the bedroom where Waffles was lying by the door, “I get it,” She said to the dog who lifted her head and whined again.

“Now?” Sunny muttered

Waffles barked.

“Not a false alarm?”

Waffles barked again.

Sunny reached down to pat her through the open door and then retreated back into the heat. She walked over to the tap and turned it up even higher until condensation was beading on her carapace. She didn’t have a volcano but this would have to do. 

She was oddly disappointed she didn’t have a volcano.

Her bathroom was significantly less impressive.

But still it was warm, and the heat was nice even as her body went into spasms again. She could have called Krill, probably should have but something stopped her. Old drev beliefs dying hard.

This was something she wanted to do alone.

She hated the way humans did it, making a spectacle of things. 

She didn’t want a spectacle.

Another wave of pain came, and she slowly lowered herself to her knees sitting with her head down, silent and waiting as steam washed over her body. 

The aching had begun late the day before, so she supposed that meant she had been in inactive labor for a little over 12 hours now and just hadn’t noticed it. That could happen to Drev though she wasn't sure it could happen to humans. The waves continued to come, faster and faster, each one more painful than the last. She stayed silent fists clenched, body ridged, all her muscles taught counting up the seconds as each wave of pain hit her. The pain grew worse and she was doubled over, on her hands and knees now breath coming in sharp hissing gasps, but she would not make a sound.

Fearing it would ruin her concentration.

The pain reached a crescendo, and with heat and water rolling down her body. Her vision went red, and then white hot and then red again, and her entire body shook from the force. Then something gave. 

Her lower hands were positioned just right to catch it, warm and  unpleasantly slimy. The floor around her was spattered with orange blood , but Sunny didn’t care. She staggered to her feet holding the tiny body up in the palms of her hands, searching its face for signs of life.

For a horrible moment she thought something was wrong with it, its entire body a sort of livid red covered in orange gore nose screwed up, and something covering its head. It had all together too many limbs and not enough carapace, and she couldn’t tell what was wrong with it for the first horrible seconds.

She tried brushing the sticky coating from its body one hand instinctively rubbing at its chest, or at least that’s what she thought.

Then it twitched, failed a little.

And screamed.

She was so taken aback she took a step back, but all at once the picture resolved before her.

It was…. Human mostly, and yes it did have too many limbs but that's because it had an extra set of arms.

The thing on its head was hair, and a lot of it plastered in sticky spikes to its head. The more she looked the clearer the picture became. It continued to scream, and Sunny had to admit that….

It wasn’t very cute.

She felt immediately horrible for thinking that but.

It was nothing like a Drev baby.

Truth be told it was kind of ugly.

Was it supposed to look like that?

She reached into the shower to turn off the water and, not knowing what to do staggered out into the next room where it was almost ice cold compared to the steamy bathroom.

That didn’t seem like a good idea, and she returned to the bathroom to grab a towel in which she wrapped the tiny screaming thing still damp. Waffles followed at her heels as she meandered in a confusion into the next room walking in a circle before she finally figured out what to do. She opened her comm.

“Krill.”

“Yes Sunny, what, is that noise/”

“Uh, you better hurry up here. I need you to tell me if its supposed to look like this.”

-

As it turns out newborn human babies have all the aesthetic appeal of a corpse worm, so that was at least comforting. Krill was angry she hadn’t called him  but she let him be angry. At the very least, there was a piece of Adam in the world that was still alive,

Alive and slightly squished, but alive nonetheless.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - X

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,100+

Previously on…

The next three days were one of the darkest periods of Dick Grayson’s life. 

He was thrown back into the past to the moments after his parents were murdered. This felt the same but somehow worse. Because he was convinced he had the power to stop it, to keep Y/N safe.

Why did everyone he love have to die?

Was he cursed?

Was he responsible for their deaths?

He hadn’t even been able to tell Y/N how he really felt. He’d been holding back all this time, terrified that his truth would just push her away and make her decide to close off from him.

Now Dick wished he could go back in time and confess everything to her. If she had pushed him away, he would found his way back to her somehow. He sees that now – now that it’s too late.

He looked at Y/N sleeping peacefully in her bed at the manor.

Is it a miracle if conjuring was used to fight back at fate?

Dick doesn’t even remember what he said when he contacted Zatanna. He must’ve sounded hysterical and utterly desperate. His vision had been blurred from the tears he couldn’t control. 

He already blacked the whole thing out.

Zatanna told them that Y/N would sleep for a few days. Even if her magic saved her life and Y/N wouldn’t even have a scar to prove she had died, her body was still exhausted from the trauma of it all.

But even with Zatanna’s reassurance, Dick hadn’t left Y/N’s side, absolutely terrified that she was still in danger, that she could still leave them forever.

When Y/N started to shift, Dick sat up straighter in the chair that he’d pulled close to her bed.

Y/N winced before her eyes fluttered open.

Dick didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he just waited for her to fully wake up.

Y/N seemed confused when she realized that she was back in her room at the manor.

Then her gaze moved to Dick.

“Bruce, is he–”

“He’s fine,” Dick cut her off before she could get herself into a panic.

Her entire body relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding in without realizing it.

“He has a concussion and he’s a little beat up. But he’s had worse,” Dick elaborated.

She raised a brow. “You tend to say that a lot.”

Dick shrugged.

But it was true: Bruce had been in much worse condition.

“You saved his life, Y/N.”

She seemed uncomfortable hearing that and didn’t meet his gaze.

“I did what anyone would’ve done,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not everyone would be that brave.”

A silence settled between them for a few moments.

“How am I here?” Y/N finally asked Dick quietly.

But they both knew she was really asking, ‘How am I alive?’

“I’m not sure you really want to know all the details…” Dick had been dreading this conversation.

“I’m assuming you called in another favor with your magic friend,” Y/N thought aloud.

“Zatanna,” Dick confirmed. “And, yes. Something like that.”

Y/N gave him a look that told him she wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“She used a spell that reversed your injuries. She…” Dick had to pause and clear his throat and get rid of his emotions that were threatening to spill. “She used your blood to write a spell, making it far stronger than most she’s cast. It saved your life.”

Y/N watched him for a moment.

“That must’ve been scary,” she whispered, truly understanding what she had put him through.

She simply could not imagine had it been the other way around. The idea of watching Dick die was something she hoped to never live through.

“He hadn’t left your side until Alfred basically secretly drugged him and scared him to get his own bedroom.”

Y/N moved to get out of bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick panicked as she stood up to stop her.

“I feel…” she thought about it for a moment.

“Like you were stabbed to death?” Dick offered darkly.

“No. I feel…I feel fine.”

He could tell she was telling the truth.

“Perks of magically being healed?” She offered innocently.

“Guess so.”

She moved out of the bed and realized she was wearing cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt that she most definitely didn’t die in.

What had happened while she was asleep? How long was she dead?

Y/N went to the window and looked out at the grounds of Wayne Manor.

“What happened when the cops showed up?” She asked quietly, almost in a daze.

“You’d have to ask Tim for details. I was preoccupied with…” Dick’s words died out.

Y/N turned away from the window to look at him.

She may have survived, but that was never going to make talking about that night any easier for him.

Luckily, she understood what Dick couldn’t put into words.

Dick took in a deep breath and crossed his arms, “We got them, Y/N.”

It almost seemed to good to be true. They’d been at this for months. It took them weeks just to plan their final blow.

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be to believe that it was truly over.

It didn’t help that there was no returning to her old life. Too much had changed.

“With the evidence you gave the FBI, there’s not a lawyer in the world that can save them. Even if a member’s hands aren’t dirty, the public shame will be enough to neutralize them for good,” Dick added with a bit of optimism.

But he could tell by Y/N’s face that she was having trouble accepting the truth.

He took a step toward her. 

“If there’s members of The Court that slipped out from underneath us, if any of them try to come after you, it’ll just prove to the world that The Court of Owls is still operating. And exposing that will be the last thing they’ll want.”

She tried to force a small smile and nod, but it was unconvincing.

Dick closed the space between them and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N, you did it.”

“It’s really over,” she whispered, staring into his deep blue eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

Then Dick’s focus shifted. He looked her up and down. “Y/N, you should really get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Y/N sighed. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.” She smirked, “Get all that death off me.”

Dick frowned. “Not funny.”

“Jason would think it’s funny,” Y/N teased as she walked to the bathroom.

He playfully glared at her. “I’ll give you some space. But I’ll be down in the cave if you need me.”

Dick only got a few steps before Y/N called his name as if she’d forgotten something and rushed to him.

He looked at her expectantly.

Y/N stepped forward and locked her arms around Dick and buried her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as his hands rubbed her back soothingly and he pulled her closer.

Dick wanted to tell Y/N that she didn’t have to thank him. He saved her life and he would do it again and again and again, and he would never expect gratitude for it. Because Dick knew that it was just as much for him as it was for her.

So instead he just held her in silence and felt the warmth from her body – the same body that had been ice cold and lifeless just days before.

When they finally pulled away, Dick was studying her face to make sure she was alright to be left alone.

He gave her one last look before leaving her.

Y/N took her time in the shower, making the water as hot as her skin would allow without giving it burns. There wasn’t a single bruise or cut on her. Her fingers traced over the place on her abdomen where the katana had been shoved through. 

There was nothing.

She wondered if there was a price to pay for such magic. Would she be held accountable? Or would it be Dick’s friend who faced the consequences?

Y/N didn’t know how long she’d been showering, but when she finally walked out, the bathroom was filled with too much steam.

She quickly put on sweatpants and a t-shirt when her stomach started growling. She couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been.

Y/N moved to her door after deciding that going straight to the kitchen was quite necessary.

But she stopped as she heard footsteps walking past her room in the hall.

She froze, thinking it was Bruce.

What would she say to him? Would he be angry with her? Would he not react at all to her resurrection? What would hurt her more between the two?

But it wasn’t Bruce. 

Tim and Damian were walking down the hallway.

“How much longer do you think he’ll stay?” She heard Damian ask.

“I don’t know. I heard the Titans have been bugging him to come back,” Tim answered. “I’m sure Kori misses him and has been texting.”

Damian just hummed in acknowledgment.

Y/N realized her hand was suspended over the doorknob.

And she had a realization: she was safe to leave.

But more importantly, she wasn’t the only one that could return to their “normal” life: so could Dick, so could everyone else in the family.

Soon, Tim would go back to his condo in the city. Jason would stop working so closely with the family he tried to disown and he’d probably stop coming around manor so often – if ever. And Bruce…Bruce would move on to new cases and return to the usual patrolling.  

Y/N turned and looked at the bedroom that had become her new home in the past few months. Her personality was nowhere to be found inside. It wasn't actually hers. She was just one of its many visitors. 

Y/N grabbed her duffle bag from underneath the queen-sized bed and started throwing her belongings into it.

Ten minutes later, Y/N had her jacket and shows on, and all of her belongings were packed in her bag. 

She still had to deal with all her equipment that was sitting in the cave. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, she didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with it. She needed to leave – before she changed her mind.

-

Y/N was just yards from the front door when she heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Dick asked just loud enough to catch her.

She froze in place.

While her back was still to him, she closed her eyes in grievance from the failure of being spotted.

She slowly turned around.

“You trying to sneak out of here?” Dick asked.

It was meant to sound teasing, but she heard his disappointment loud and clear.

“It’s about time I get out of your hair.” 

“We’re not exactly kicking you out…” Dick tried to joke.

“You said so yourself: it’s safe for me now.” She sighed and walked closer to him. “Look, I just…I need some time alone.”

Dick took it a bit too personally. Were they really that exhausting to be around? He thought she had started to see them as her own family. He thought things were OK.

“At least let me drive you,” he offered quietly.

“I called a cab. It’s waiting for me outside.”

Before Dick could say anything else, she quickly turned and made her escape.

Y/N knew what she was scared of. She was scared he’d tell her he was leaving Gotham now that the case had been solved. But she was even more scared that he’d tell her he was staying. 

She wasn’t ready to deal with either scenario.

So, Y/N did what she did best: she ran.

————————

Y/N stared at the wall of her safe house.

The silence that she had once grown used to long ago was now irritating.

Y/N hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the chaos of Wayne Manor until she had torn herself away from it. Even when it was quiet there, she could feel the presence of everyone.

Now she was left only to her thoughts.

And just she was about to escape the silence and go grab food at a nearby diner, there was a knock on the door.

Y/N knew for a fact that this safe-house hadn’t be blown yet – and that included with the Wayne family. It was exactly why she chose to come here instead of the one where Bruce first found her and dragged her to Wayne Manor for her own safety.

Which was why Y/N grabbed one of her guns and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before she tiptoed to the door.

She looked through the peep hole and her stomach twisted when she saw Bruce Wayne was on the other side.

She knew he could sense her presence on the other side, and there was no hiding. So she opened the door quickly.

Bruce eyed the gun in her hand. “This has become a habit of yours.”

Y/N ignored his comment, uncocked the gun, and carefully placed it on a table near the door.

When she was finally able to take Bruce in, she noted that his face was covered in bruises and small cuts. To be honest, Y/N expected more damage after being a witness to his near-death beating. 

“May I come in?” Bruce asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had yet to invite him inside.

This was all reminiscent of that night.

And Y/N didn’t appreciate the memories and feelings Bruce was stirring up.

An awkward silence settled between them. The silence of her apartment was doing nothing to help.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N knew the question was sincere, but Bruce still managed to ask it without showing any ounce of emotion – as if he wasn’t personally invested in the matter. 

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. Her eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

He simply nodded.

Silence again.

“You can never do that again,” Bruce declared.

“Do what?”

“You risked your life to save mine. The boys refused to tell me what happened, but I saw the footage. You threw yourself in front of me.”

Y/N remained calm as she said, “You did the same for me.”

Bruce shook his head. Because they both knew it wasn’t the same thing.

The truth was that Bruce woke up to find Dick crying over Y/N’s dead body. And then a few minutes he had watched as Dick begged Zatanna to help him.

And Bruce? Bruce had been unconscious when Y/N had needed him the most.

He had protected her all these months – with his own family and his own home – just to be useless in her final moment of need.

When Bruce finally woke up recovered to find out that Y/N had fled the manor, he knew he needed to go to her. He needed to make sure she never did something so stupid as risking her life to save him.

But now Bruce stood before her and he knew he needed to tell her so much more than just that.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? Did you just plan on lecturing me again?”

But Bruce wasn’t realized he couldn’t use any words tonight.

Ever so slowly, he stepped into her space, putting less and less space between their bodies. Y/N could feel the heat coming from him. And she sucked in a gasp from his proximity. She breathed in his cologne that she’d grown to love so much that it instantly relaxed her.

Her heart beat faster and faster as his eyes shifted down to her lips, hesitating in a way that was excruciating to Y/N. But it gave her time to resist, to allow her to shut this down before it could continue.

But Y/N didn’t want to do that.

Bruce brushed her hair away from her face, then his hands shifted slightly to cup her face. His touch wasn’t soft, but insistent.

He pressed his lips to Y/Ns. Brisk and determined. 

The tension finally snapped and pushed them to a passionate kiss that was long overdo.

Was this only going to cause them both more pain in the future?

Or was this what they should’ve done long ago?

Bruce pushed Y/N against a wall.

And then everything became a blur.

Bruce picked Y/N up and wrapped her legs around his waist for her, silently instructing her. 

Clothes were unzipped and unbuttoned, and thrown around the apartment without thought.

Their breathing was heavy and reactive to the way their hands raced across each other’s now naked skin. 

For never being at this particular safe house, Bruce found his way to the bed with ease.

From the movement of their bodies and obvious desire for one another, one thing became clear: they were never meant to only share one night together.

————

Y/N had tried with all her might to stay awake – even if that meant pulling an all-nighter.

She was trying to break the pattern. And even though Bruce had exhausted her body to no end, she didn’t want to wake up to find his side of the bed empty.

But she was shocked to open her eyes and find not only that Bruce was still in her bed, but that she had been sleeping on his bare chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Y/N could feel that he was awake. Apparently he was much more disciplined than her.

Little did she know Bruce hadn’t slept at all, not wanting to miss the feeling of her against him. 

Y/N slowly lifted her head, “Hi.”

He smirked at the sleepiness in her voice.

“Hi."

“Didn’t expect you to be here still,” she admitted quietly.

“I can leave if you want.” And he meant it, even though it would hurt.

“No,” she scolded him in a breathy gasp.

The tension in his body released. 

Y/N shifted off of his chest

“And where do you think you’re going?” Bruce questioned.

She shifted so she was no longer resting on his chest, but laying on her side beside him so she could see his face.

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered innocently.

Bruce smirked at her answer.

Y/N made sure the bed sheet was successfully covering her nudity.

Bruce seemed amused with her sudden modesty, but said nothing of it.

“How did you find me here?” Y/N asked him.

It had been the first thing she’d wanted to ask when he showed up to her door last night. But Bruce hadn’t exactly given her a lot of space to speak last night.

Bruce’s jaw tightened, which was a message in its own. 

“Bruceeeee,” Y/N pushed back with irritation.

“You aren’t going to like the answer.”

She glared at him. “Did you put a fucking tracker on me, Bruce Wayne?”

“Your phone.”

“When?” She asked.

“After you tried to turn yourself in to the Talons.”

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed by the answer.

They both knew she could easily disable it now that she knew about it. Even if he hadn’t confessed it, she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually.

“You’re upset,” Bruce observed.  

“How would you feel if I did the same to you? But it’s…you. And I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Need I remind you that we only met because you blackmailed me and threatened to expose my identity to the world?”

“You know that wasn’t the same,” she shot back as she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed. “I promise I will deactivate it.”

“No,” Y/N surprised him by saying. “But I will make you a deal…you can always know where I am if I can know the same for you.”

Bruce knew this was a test. Because Y/N expected him to immediately shoot down such an offer. Couldn’t such information be used against Batman?

“Deal,” he agreed.

Y/N was so shocked by his compliance that her overwhelming emotions forced her to lean into him and capture his lips in a kiss.

“Should I make us breakfast?” She whispered to him after barely pulling away from his lips. 

She lightly bumped her nose against his. 

Bruce nodded with a grin.

But before Y/N could ask what he wanted, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Her heart raced at the thought of another intrusion – and a less welcomed one.  

Bruce frowned, but remained calm.

“Stay here,” he warned before placing a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

Before she could argue, he slipped out of bed.

He put his boxer briefs on, but didn’t bother with a shirt or pants.

Even though Bruce told Y/N to stay put, she still figured a mysterious knock on the door was a sign to put clothes on.

She practically threw on her underwear, but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing she had on yesterday. Yet somehow she found Bruce’s white button down and quickly buttoned on to give herself some semblance of decency.

Bruce looked through the peephole. 

He held his breath.

Bruce would’ve rather it been an attempted attack on Y/N than…this.

“Y/N, I know you’re there,” Dick called from the other side of the door.

Bruce knew she couldn’t hear him. But he knew there was no other choice than to open the door.

Bruce looked apathetic as he faced his first protégé.

But Dick knew Bruce well enough to see that there was guilt hidden underneath.

He took in Bruce’s attire – or really, the lack there of.

Dick huffed out a laugh, “Of course. I should’ve known better.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

Bruce slammed the door shut and rubbed his face in distress.

Before he could even think of something to say to Y/N, she rushed past him and threw the door open again.

“Dick! Wait!” Y/N called to him and caught him in the hallway.

By some miracle, Dick stopped and turned to her.

He looked her up and down, lingering far too long on the white button down she was wearing that so clearly belonged to Bruce.

“Needed some time alone, huh?” 

Throwing Y/N’s own words back at her was meant to come out harsh and cold. But it ended up sounding heartbroken and betrayed.

And, honestly, that was worse to Y/N.

She have any idea what to say to him.

What would even make him feel better?

So, Y/N just watched Dick slowly walk away.

She stepped back into the safe house with tears in her eyes.

Bruce immediately moved to her. 

“Y/N–”

But Y/N shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more.

“I should go,” Bruce told her. 

He couldn’t help himself as he reached to wipe her tears away.

“I should probably give you your shirt back,” she said between sniffles.

Had the situation been different, it would’ve sounded funny. 

But there was no humor here. 

Bruce’s innocent touch of wiping her tears away made it hard for Y/N to concentrate.

So she escaped into the bedroom and quickly changed into her own clothes.

When she walked back out, she had all of Bruce’s stuff in her arms.

Once Bruce was in his clothes again, he didn’t know what to do or say next.

It was hard for Bruce to leave Y/N when she was so visibly upset. Dick wasn’t here to make Y/N feel better this time...and that was all Bruce’s fault.

“I’m not used to saying bye to you,” Y/N finally broke the tension.

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

A sad look flashed across her face as she processed her thoughts. “Usually I wake up…and you’re gone. You don’t even give me a chance to.”

Bruce bowed his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he finally admitted to her.

Y/N nodded slowly, agreeing with him.

“But you did,” she whispered. 

Her voice sounded congested from all the tears she just shed. 

“And all this time, I let myself think it was OK or even that I was the one who had messed it all up.”

Bruce quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N.”

Her eyes darkened. “Why did you have to make it so hard to stay away from you, Bruce?”

An he knew he deserved that. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed.

Bruce hesitated before giving her a slow kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen him unsure of himself.

Without saying anything more, he turned and left.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Y/N whispered long after he could still hear her.

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

Part XI

Did I ruin your life? Let me know 😂

[galactic-glamour-girl-posts]

Thoughts on Wakko's Wish

I watched the movie a while ago, wasn't gonna make a post on my thoughts on it but I've already given some thoughts on both the original show and the reboot so why not Wakko's Wish at this point? Tis the season after all.

Here we go:

-It's great to see TMS animations again, after they started animating less episodes of the show after season 3-and thanks to the bigger budget it looks better than ever!

-Loved the call-backs to specific one-off lines/gags from the show, Slappy mentions having arthritis like in her first segment, Yakko mentions Dot's acting lessons (I'm pretty sure that was first mentioned in "Big Candy Store"? It was definitely mentioned in one of the first episodes), Wakko shakes Pip's hand with a fake hand like he did in "Chairman of the Bored", etc.

-Slappy felt too mellow, is it just me or was she less cranky here? Which is weird considering the premise of the movie. She didn't throw a single bomb (and that can't be because of censors because there are other explosives in the movie), and she even sung! I thought she didn't like singing? (Although to be fair she did sing a little bit in season 5). Well she didn't get much screen time and spent most of it interacting only with Skippy, who she gets along with the most, so I guess that's why.

-Honestly I kinda like that she sung though, it helps the film seem conclusive, other characters have completed "arcs" too, Buttons gets rewarded (and he spoke as well, which was...a little cursed...why is his voice that deep?!), we see the back of Mindy's mom's head, Mindy actually calls her "Mom", Brain gets into a position of power, Rita and Runt finally find a home, Wheel of Morality actually gives a moral that makes sense, etc.

-Speaking of, it's really nice to see Rita and Runt back after they were essentially booted off the show after season 1. AND they got more screen time than I expected (I'm pretty sure they got more than Slappy ad Skippy did, at least). Would've liked it if Minerva Mink also had more screen time like they did, but oh well. I like that Scratchansniff became their owner at the end, didn't see that coming.

-It's kinda weird the Goodfeathers don't show up until really late into the film (about 40 minutes into a 75 minute long film). I must admit...I didn't even notice their absence. Once they did show up I thought "Oh yeah. They haven't shown up yet, have they?" I'm still convinced writers didn't know what to do with them after season 2.

-I do like how Wakko's character didn't rely on eating. Like, that's literally his main gimmick in the show but his love of eating is barely mentioned throughout the film, instead focusing more on his optimism, naivety and kindness. It's a refreshing take on his character, in fact, this film might be my favourite depiction of Wakko! Although he's still naive, he feels less dumb in the movie compared to the show. I think that carried over to the reboot (seriously, does anyone else think he seems slightly smarter in the reboot than in the original show? He's still no genius, but still, I like it).

-Although I do wish Yakko contributed more to the movie. Wakko gets the plot moving by making the wish, Dot serves as the motive, saves the Warners from being executed AND distracted everyone for long enough for Wakko to reach the Wishing Star, whilst Yakko... sure was there. Yeah he came up with a plan to fool King Salazar and avoid execution but...it basically doesn't work. It just pads out the film for a couple minutes. At most his scenes where he tells Dot the story add heart to the film, but again Dot is the catalyst for those scenes, not Yakko. It's a little disappointing that my favourite Warner contributes probably the least to the film out of the three. Thankfully, it's still Yakko, so as usual he had stellar quips and some of the best jokes in the movie, so it's not like he wasn't a joy to watch. Just wish he did more.

-Dot's "death" might be the only death cop out/fake out (you know the ones, a character dies then comes back to life in like 5 minutes, or they make you think the character is dead but reveal they're alive almost immediately, those ones) in any movie that I actually like, mostly because it's ACTUALLY a fake out in universe. Subversive, AND comedic!

-The songs are okay, but the show has done much better. Plus a lot of them are kinda samey-sounding and are about the same thing(s) over and over again and don't really have the same Broadway-style vibe a lot of the songs in the show do. I get that that was most likely the intention...I don't really like the intention.

-I appreciate this film wants to have heart and be more wholesome than the show, but (at least for what I expect from Animaniacs) it's a little cheesy. Not unbearably so, but this film seems to be trying very hard to appeal to kids, with song lyrics like "Just cheer up and never ever give up hope. Hope hope hope hope!", the bedtime story scene, etc. I know the show can have its sweeter moments, but those were used sparingly, and weren't quite as...I'll go with juvenile. Like, even in comparison to "There's Only One of You", for example, that had lyrics like "In fact you're kind of weird" to give an otherwise pretty wholesome song a little bit of an edge that saves it from being too saccharine. I know the franchise is for kids, but an undeniably large part of its appeal is how it caters towards kids and adults. Again, I don't hate these moments, I'm just not used to an Animaniacs project being written in such a way.

-I still think Hooray for North Hollywood would've worked better as the finale. The show used meta humour all the time, so having their first movie be about the Warners trying to make a movie seems like the perfect premise! And Wakko's Wish isn't too long, it's 75 minutes, I feel like it could be trimmed to be about 44 minutes for an hour long TV special. Given that the setting and time period is completely different from the show, I don't think it's the ideal way to end the show. It feels somewhat conclusive with the call backs and completion of characters' "arcs", but that stuff would've been so much better if they happened within the world of the show.

Alright, those are all the thoughts I have on the film that are interesting enough AND haven't been repeated over and over and again by other people. Overall, I liked it! It's a solid movie. I don't love it, especially not as a finale, but it's not bad for their very first movie. Once I finish season 2 of the reboot (which I am LOVING so far), I'll watch the Pinky and the Brain spin-off, and whilst I don't currently intend to, I'll probably end up writing my thoughts on that too because I can't stop thinking about this franchise and have an incessant need to immortalise my thoughts....

...

...Merry Christmas!

[alittlefrenchtree]

I have a PR question. How do we know if a non-paparazzi photo is staged/arranged or not? I’m talking about random pictures someone takes of him and his supposed dates. ☺️

I don’t think you can know for sure, Nonny. That’s kind of the beauty of it 😊

If you’re interested in joining today’s class and read a little more about stuff, click below.

Disclaimer 1) I really shouldn’t be any kind of authority in terms of pr and of famous people pr but since many people here are presenting things as true statements without knowing anything about anything, it’s only fair that I tried to explain some stuff while knowing, like 5% of stuff.

Disclamer 2) I’m not really interested about talking specifically about Timmy’s situation. His dating life is either a private thing that shouldn’t be commented as a public topic or a pr thing that I don’t want to encourage it by commenting. Or both and see all of the above.

What I’m interested in, is talking about pr strategy and public images in general ways, why it’s there and how it works and that’s about it.

That being said, let’s start today’s class.

My belief when it comes to pr and related stuff is that knowing the ‘truth’ is less important than having as much knowledge as possible on the subject. It’s kind like math. If you have an equation and someone gives you the answer but you don’t know how to get to there yourself, knowing the answer doesn’t get you much. But if you have all the keys to resolve the equation, you can try to find the answer on your own. And, even if you don’t find the answer, knowledge will help you understand the logic of it. Why it’s there. What it says.

So what’s our equation today? A content of one (or more) public person/people taken from a smartphone camera of someone we don’t know.

Smartphone content isn’t inconsequential. Using ‘low’ quality camera instead of a professional one says something different. It’s supposed to bring more authenticity, closeness to the audience, spontaneity. It feels truer because you could be the one taken it, since there is a large chance you own a smartphone when you probably don’t own a professional camera. It has to be genuine if you could be the one taking it, right? You would have any interest in taking part of something fake, wouldn’t you?

It can feels logical like everybody knows that or it’s not really important but it’s something that is actually thought through by professionals when it comes to create content. There is that brand of cooking videos (you know the one you stumble on when you remember Facebook exist and that show you recipe that always look really easy to make at home and delicious (and also overly greasy and/or overly sugary) that was explaining how they could totally shot their videos in professional kitchen with high quality stuff but choose to do the complete opposite instead? Because their goal is to make their audience feel like they can make the recipe at home so they shot their videos on small kitchen with smartphones.

Creating professional content on un-professional devices is a real thing. Half of the business of influencers people is built on this. To think that the strategy has stayed only in the influencers people business would be very naive. In the famous people world, content created on smartphone is used for these bts vibes. We’re showing you what you’re not supposed to see so you feel like a part of it. This is how the famous people you love are in real life, when the camera is off. Except they’re not off, since you’re seeing it.

You’re not part of it, we’re showing you just enough for you to want it, to envy it but you’re not.

Let’s go back to the casual pic of that public person. Truth is, you could be taking the picture yourself and still don’t know what you’ve taken.

Say I’m well known top model who has signed a new contract with a clothing brand. I have pap walks to put the clothes in online articles and magazines. Of course pap pics also ends up on social media but they aren’t the type of media design for the platform. Pap walks create some distance from the audience because they often looks like real photo shootings. Part of the audience is defiant towards it. Either it’s an invasion of privacy or it’s staged. It’s not that positive.

What’s positive is me going out in my brand new clothes and cross path with people who recognize me. They wouldn’t know anything about my contract but would do all the job themselves without knowing they’re doing it. They would take a picture from afar, maybe a selfie, share it on social media with a cute context. A story. Write about that cute dress I was wearing, what my coffee order was (omg, she likes almond milk like me!), what’s the interaction was like. Was it staged? I like that dress and I really wanted to go for a walk and for that cup of coffee. And the fan was nice, everything was genuine. Yet, I still went out to be seen and the clothing brand is happy.

The problem with that scenario is that I’m not in control of anything. Maybe nobody will recognize me or care enough to take a picture or something went wrong with the fan/person I’ve seen and instead of a cute story I have someone insulting me all over the internet. Lot of time lost, some risk taken, not much result. Wouldn’t be easier to take a friend or a PA who would snap a few pictures and we’ll be home in 5 minutes, job done? Pr team get the pics and share them with the world with one of the twelve stan accounts about me they’ve been running for years. Even write a little story to go with it if they’re inspired enough. If you think it’s too much, you’re naive. Everything that can be faked or staged to save time, money or give you more control of the result, has already been faked and staged by someone. Multiple someones.

My take on this would be, the bigger you are, the more money you have to carry on your shoulders, the less you let things to chance and the more you take control of your narrative. PAs, agents, PR people,… When you have a whole team around you, you don’t (overly) pay them as secretaries. They’re not just here to handle your planning and bring you coffee or you would only need one person, not 7 of them walking around you all the time.

But what if there is no contract? What if I’m just wearing that dress because I like the brand? Or maybe there is a commercial deal with the brand but I have no obligation to wear it on my daily life or been seen with it. Wouldn’t the pics look exactly the same to an outside eye?

Of course I can go low key, move only inside cars with tinted windows, don’t walk around in popular places and only go in isolated, private places. I can. But maybe sometimes I’m tired of it. Maybe I just want to meet my non-famous friends where they like to go and fuck it if I’m seen there. Pics taken by people would look like they’re staged. Except maybe they’re not.

But if I stop caring, I indirectly accept that however I’m seen becomes part of my public image. And if it has become part of my public image, I should accept that it will be monitored to some extend by my team, and eventually by myself.

So how do we find the answer? We can’t. Based on a single photo alone, I don’t think we can. Unless you’ve seen contracts or you know the person personally, you can’t really pretend what’s going on being doors. Even so, would you know everything? Sometimes a contract is just a contract. Something a commercial deal is also a friendship. Sometimes a real friendship became public et become part of your public image. Sometimes you don’t really feel like talking about commercial deals with that cousin you’re seeing 5 times a year and doesn’t really care about what the details of your fucked-up public job are. So even your own family doesn’t know the truth about everything.

What we can do, if we’re interested in doing it, is look at every piece of content and ask ourselves. What are we seeing? How is it made? For what purpose? How that type of content is used in different contexts?

With more context, you can make interpretations for yourself. Will everybody will have the same? Of course not. Mathematicians, physicists, chemists, spent their time disagreeing on interpretations of stuff, how can we expect people to agree on the interpretation on something based of human behavior?

From what I’m seeing, PR conversations seem to be going on in many (many) fandoms. From a PR point of view, I don’t think it’s not a bad thing, whether what we’re talking about is real or fake in the first place. Having people think it’s fake and people think it’s real makes the conversation going. They’re always be people who would want to defend their point of view, their opinions, their favorite celebrities. Names will keep being mentioned, pics shared, word spread. SEO (Search Engine Optimization) and algorithms are happy.

My best advices, I guess, is, first, remember that you aren't obligated to have opinions on everything or to care about every aspect of the life of an artist you love, even when media and people would like you to think you are and you should. There is even things, such as dating life of other people than yourself, you shouldn’t really have opinions about at all.

If romance, love and sex keeps getting used to sell, it’s because it works. Think about all the books, all the movies, all the stories where a love story is integrated in an action movie/horror story/sci-fi scenario even when it has nothing to do with anything. Romance/love/sex sells since forever and probably for a long time. Because most people think falling in love is the main purpose of life and the most important thing in the world.

My second advice would be, don’t be naive but don’t be cynical either. Contexts and nuances are always important.

Anyways, like always I don’t have an answer and I’m barely even interested in the answer but I hope I'm able bring some perspectives to things because it’s important. More than ever, content is a tool. Since everyone is part of an audience, if not potentially part of all audiences , we should all learn more about how the tool works.

Of course i'm joking about the concept of class. I'm not a teacher. I'm only sharing some personal knowledge and opinions. I can be wrong or contested. No hard feelings against anyone.

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (5)

Warnings: nothing much, really. mentions of sex, a lot of confusing feelings.

Word Count: 2.7k

Felix looked up, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the frown on Chan's face. He quickly stepped away from you as Chan made his way over, throwing his arm around you and pulling you close.

"Hey, Lix. I believe I owe this pretty lady some cotton candy." He said icily, glaring at Felix.

"Oh, I'm full-"

"Come on." Chan snapped, leading you away from Felix quickly and towards the opposite side of the carnival.

"After we get cotton candy, we can go on one of the rides." Chan said expressionlessly. You looked up at him in slight confusion.

"Um...are you okay? You seem on edge."

"I'm perfectly fine, doll, thank you for asking." He said monotonously, leading you further away from the others as his eyes searched for a cotton candy booth. When he finally found one, he led you over there, taking out his wallet. As he paid for it, you let your eyes wander.

You saw Minho and Miyoung sitting on a bench across from you. They were sharing some ice-cream, all smiles and giggles.

As Miyoung looked down, you noticed Minho checking out a girl walking past, biting his lip.

Suddenly he looked up at you, noticing your stare. Glaring, he flipped you off, before turning back to Miyoung.

Frowning, you turned back to Chan. What an asshole, you thought.

As Chan handed you your cotton candy, you decided to bring it up. The boy was, frankly, getting on your nerves.

Chan raised an eyebrow at you as you bit into the pink fluff, chewing like a bunny. That was cute...

"Your friend Minho's a dick."

Trust me, I know. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, he's just using Miyoung, clearly. I have no idea why, though. Guys like that disgust me."

Chan turned a shade redder as he looked away, fiddling with his car keys. "Y-yeah?"

"Mmhmm. We should all be more straightforward, don't you think? What does he get out of playing with someone's emotions like that?" You mused, making Chan swallow as he looked at you.

As the words left your mouth, a part of himself felt the confusion he'd been feeling earlier dig deeper, rooting itself in him.

He felt...guilty, for the first time since this whole thing started. In the beginning, it felt alright to play with your feelings...he didn't know you personally, and he'd found you a little annoying. However, now that he'd spent time with you and gotten to know you as a person...he was feeling unusually remorseful.

But then, he looked over at Miyoung, whose wide, adoring smile was once again directed at his best friend...if Chan could even call him that. He'd be lying if he said he didn't still feel that pang of longing for the girl he'd been pining after for the past 2 years.

The conflict of emotions in him was driving him crazy as he tried to calm himself down. Shaking his head, he turned back to you.

"I don't know. I stopped trying to make sense of Minho ages ago."

You pressed your lips together, staying silent for a minute. Maybe you should change the topic...

"Hey...let's forget about that. Now, are those rides as fun as you said they were, or was it a bluff?" You giggled.

Chan chuckled. "Well hold onto your socks, babygirl, cause you're about to be blown away. Come on, let's go on the Booster Rocket."

"Wow. Sounds scary."

"Don't worry." He grabbed your hand, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.

"I'll be here."

***

You sat on a bench with Chan, your cheeks still burning- the cause being his hand, still firmly holding yours.

Chan looked over at you, wondering if he could confide in you. There wasn't really anyone else he could talk to about this at the moment.

"Hey...Y/n...can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Well, what if...what if you're doing something that you know is bad...something you know you're going to regret. What if you're actively hurting someone, all because you want something so bad- something that you're not even sure you'll be able to obtain. When would it be too late to change your mind?"

"Oh..." you frowned. "Well, that depends on many factors, actually. I think at the end of the day, a lot of people would do things they aren't proud of to get something they really want. Morally, it's a tricky subject." You paused, pondering. " No matter what, i think the most important thing is to make sure you're not hurting anyone. As long as you're sure of that, everything will be fine."

"But...what if I am? What if I'm hurting someone?"

"Well then, you have to put things into perspective. Is the thing you want something you're willing to hurt someone else for? Is it that important?"

Chan looked over at Miyoung and then at you. Hmm. He wasn't even sure anymore.

***

"I wish you could have stayed longer..." Chan sighed as you got out of his car, turning around to smile at him.

"I'm sorry, but my mom needs me." You said apologetically. "She didn't even know I left." You chuckled.

"Mm. Well, I'll see you tomorrow...right?"

"Definitely."

Chan looked up at you awkwardly, wondering what to say. Finally, he settled for a wave and a wink.

You grinned at him before turning around to leave, your heart beating, butterflies in your stomach as you opened your front door. What you didn't know was that Chan was feeling something very similar.

He leaned back in his seat, hand on the steering wheel as he tried to make sense of his feelings. He wasn't very adept at identifying his emotions...he'd never been. The only thing he'd ever been sure of was his love for Miyoung, but now even that was in question...

If he still loved her, he wouldn't be feeling this...this sudden disorientation, brought on by you. Right?

***

"Chan! There you are. Where'd you go?" Changbin asked, frowning as he noticed the boy approach. "And where's Y/n?"

"I had to drop her off at home, she had stuff to do."

Jisung chuckled. "Or maybe she caught onto the fact that you're using her, and decided to get the fuck away."

Chan rolled his eyes, looking away. "Not in the mood."

"For real though, Chan. Are you any closer to getting that book?"

Chan sighed. "I guess. She likes me a lot...and I think I'd just need a day or two, now."

"That's good. Hey, maybe she could be useful for more than one reason. You could fuck her and finally lose that v-card of yours, so you can be more experienced for Miyoung when you get her. Minho's shoes are big to fill." Jisung wiggled his eyebrows.

Chan was too tired for this. His fist was itching to punch Jisung and call it a day, but he suppressed the urge.

"Shut up." His voice was weak as he said it. Jisung quickly caught on, brows knitting as he observed Chan's expression.

"Um...hey, is everything okay?"

"Nope." Chan said simply, not seeing the point in lying. Besides, he wanted to tell someone what he was feeling already.

I think I might be catching feelings for Y/n. I could lie and say I don't know why or how this is happening, but I know exactly why. It's...it's her optimism, the way she's always so happy to see me. She makes me want to be happy, too. She makes me wish I could be the type of person she is.

Chan snapped out of his thoughts suddenly as he felt Changbin nudge him with his elbow. He looked up, a frown growing on his features as he saw Minho, lips pressed to Miyoung's. They were on the same bench that he'd been sitting on with you, just a few seconds ago.

Chan looked away, the sight instilling a heavy sense of discomfort in him. He didn't want to see Minho and his infuriating smirk, directed at Chan. Look at me, having my way with your girl. What can you do about it?

Confusion, filling him up again.

"Ignore that, Chan. Don't worry, it's just a few more days, right? You have Y/n in the palm of your hand. She'll let you see that book soon enough, and Minho will back off." Jisung said, though he had a nagging feeling that wasn't going to be the case. As long as Minho held his little grudge against Chan, he'd find new ways to get on his nerves.

The rest of them could do nothing but sit back and watch.

***

You sat on your bed, your book open on your lap. Tapping the pen on your chin, you mentally recapped the events of today in your head, feeling that familiar flutter arise in you as you recalled the way Chan had held your hand...so gently, almost as if he was afraid he'd hurt you accidentally. Then again, there'd been the occasional tight squeeze, especially when he detected your nervousness. He'd done it before you'd gotten on the scarier rides, when Minho walked past, when you'd choked on your churro a little etc.

You hadn't meant to fall. People like Chan didn't fall for people like you...and liking him was a one-way ticket to misery, especially when his friends made it clear how much they hated you. Why were you being so naive?

You sighed, mind drifting as your hands moved of their own accord. Your pencil flew over the page as you sketched Chan's face from memory. Somehow, his mere presence was able to comfort you. His reassuring smiles, his confidence and the way he stuck up for you...god, you couldn't help it.

You were falling, hard.

***

Chan couldn't bring himself to pay attention to the conversation. He stared out of the car window, eyes glazed as his mind tried to make sense of what was going on in his head.

Chan's eyes drifted to Miyoung, who was currently sitting in the passenger seat, on Minho's lap. They were heading to Changbin's house to spend the night- like they did every week. Just a guy's night, where they would drink beer and play video-games on the couch until Jisung passed out and Hyunjin had to carry him to bed.

However, this time, Minho had invited Miyoung to come over. Most of the guys weren't a fan of this idea, most of all Chan.

He tried to straighten out his disgruntled expression as Miyoung turned to him.

"Is it true?" She asked, giggling.

He raised an eyebrow, having tuned the whole conversation out. Clearing his throat, he looked from Jisung to the girl. "Um, I wasn't listening."

Jisung rolled his eyes and continued talking as Miyoung turned away. Chan gulped, looking to Changbin who was driving. The nine of them had split up into two cars, and Chan wished he was in the other one.

When they finally reached, Changbin parking in his garage, Chan quickly got out of the car, heading towards the door without looking back. He saw the others waiting, and sighed in relief, quickly walking over to Felix and slapping his back.

Felix let out a small yelp as he turned around. "Oh it's you."

"Yeah." Chan mumbled, sighing.

"We're so pissed right now. Why the fuck would Minho invite her over for guy's night?" Jeongin asked, rubbing his temple as he watched the others approach.

"To annoy me." Chan said, almost to himself as he observed the way Minho didn't take his hands off Miyoung, arm firmly wrapped around her waist as they walked.

The funny thing was, he wasn't feeling all that jealous. If this had happened a week ago, he would have been burning with envy, forced to watch Minho and his crush canoodling all day. Yet, at the moment, Chan was feeling nothing but dull anger- and he didn't know who or what it was directed at. Perhaps it would be better defined as frustration.

All he knew was he wished you were there at that moment, holding his hand. Maybe it would have helped calm his beating heart...or would you have made it throb faster?

***

Chan woke up in the middle of the night, throat dry. He carefully pushed Jisung off his chest, groaning as he realized the boy had drooled all over his shirt.

As soon as they'd entered his house, Minho had taken Miyoung away to one of Changbin's many bedrooms. There had been a few scattered smirks and giggles, but most of them were relieved that she wouldn't be around to witness their boyish antics.

Chan didn't know what to feel. He knew what would be happening behind that door. He never knew Minho would go this far.

He descended the stairs, heading for the kitchen as he rubbed his eyes. However, as his hand reached to turn the switch on, the sudden light flooding the room illuminated a figure sitting at the bar.

Chan squinted. Miyoung. What was she doing out here at this time?

"Hey...you okay?"

She looked up, eyes widening a little. "Oh. Chan..."

He noticed belatedly that she was wearing Minho's shirt. Chan's throat dried up further, his chest tightening as he felt his heart starting to pound.

Hesitating a little, he moved closer, sitting on the stool next to her, tilting his head in concern. "Shouldn't you be with..."

"Minho? Mm." She mumbled, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him. "I guess. I was thirsty, so I came down here." She explained.

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence for a bit before Miyoung looked back at Chan, sighing.

"I...I don't know if I can keep doing this, Chan. I like him a lot." Her lip quivered. "But I don't think it's a mutual feeling. He's going to dump me any second now. I can feel it."

Chan didn't know what to say. He cleared his throat, sighing. "I...I don't think he'll do that." He said softly. "He's treated you differently. We haven't even met any of his past girlfriends."

"Yeah?" She asked, allowing herself to smile half-heartedly.

"Uh huh. Don't worry. Besides, who'd want to dump someone like you? Only an idiot, that's who." He said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She giggled a little at that, running a hand through her hair. "Wow, you're good at cheering people up."

"Yeah...I guess." He said, his mind swimming. The truth was, he didn't want her to break up with Minho just yet. Somehow, it was nice at least having her around. In fact, this was the first proper conversation he'd had with her...

She deserved better. She deserved someone who actually loved her, who would listen to her and care for her. And Chan had wanted to be that person for the longest time.

Slowly, he would pull her away from Minho. He would show her that he was the person she needed. And he'd finally be happy. Right?

Miyoung stood up, pulling down the shirt a little. "I guess I'd better get back to him, then." She paused for a second, before putting her hand on top of Chan's. "Thank you..."

Chan swallowed, his heart jumping a little at the contact. He looked at it for a second, frowning. Her hand was so soft, unlike yours. Your hands were slightly rougher, covered with smudges of paint- yet somehow holding them had managed to comfort him. Maybe it was the fact that those hands belonged to you, who was easily the most calming person he'd ever met.

He nodded, and she smiled again before leaving. Chan watched her go, the confusion coming back full force as he stood up, walking over to get the glass of water he'd come for.

As the cool liquid ran down his throat, Chan wondered why he'd been thinking of you, even when Miyoung- the girl he considered the love of his life- had touched him. It wasn't right.

One thing was for sure. You were affecting him, and he just couldn't allow it anymore. There was no way he could let it happen. If he did somehow fall for you, he would never hear the end of it from Minho and his friends.

It's just a little confusion, that's all.

It's natural. I love Miyoung. I always have. I'm going to get that book, and then I can forget all about Y/n. I'd get my girl, and I'd be happy with her, the way it's meant to be...

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Beautiful

Darth Maul x Reader 

A/N: I’ve fallen into the pit. I’m in love with Maul. I was also listening to “Marry the Night” by Lady Gaga, and this just sort of happened. So yeah. I hope y’all enjoy!

Original Imagine/Summary Kinda Thingy:  I wrote down a line in my journal, and I thought to myself “Hey, that’s kind of a good line. Let’s use it in a fic.” And then this happened! I also just really want to comfort Maul, so here I am, living vicariously through my fics!

Warnings: This is basically semi-angsty fluff. Maul cries, but it’s okay, he’s got you!

Word Count: 2.3k. Whoops. My hand slipped! 

There was nothing quite so comforting as laying under the stars and realizing that, although you may be little, you still mean something to the universe.  

But tonight it was hard to see the difference made. There was no beauty in the world tonight. No comfort in the stars.  

At least that’s what Maul saw. 

You on the other hand, you saw beauty in everything. The world. The stars. The little cracks in the floor tiles that gave the palace character. The things anyone else would miss. You even saw beauty in him. 

There was something almost naive about it, and yet you had seen so much. You’d been through hell with him, but somehow you’d managed to see the good in everything. It was baffling, but in a way, it was admirable.  

Not that it was hard to admire you. No. You could so much as breathe, and his breath would hitch. Every movement you made was enough for him to go weak at the knees. The soft gleam to your eyes; the gentle tone of your voice; the graceful way you fought your battles. It was all admirable, and he was your greatest admirer. 

But it was hard to admire him. A murderer, a criminal. Someone few would hesitate to call a devil. There was a time where he wouldn’t have cared. There were more important things to care about. More important things to throw his time and energy into. But sitting atop a throne all day, especially on the slow days, gives you more time to think. More time to doubt.  

He lied awake tonight. Sleepless, and all but restless. His eyes were closed, but his mind was racing.  

“How does she love me?”  

“I’m unloveable.” 

‘I mean come on. I’m a murderer. I’ve killed hundreds of people.” 

“What does she see in me?”  

“How does she see me? 

“How can she bear the sight of me?”

There was only so much of this barrage he could take. It was all too much for his exhausted mind. He forced his eyes to open, to bottleneck the endless train of harsh truths. Or what he believed to be truths. 

He sat up, and only then noticed how cold, and light the sheets felt. He looked beside him only to find an empty, cold spot where you should be laying. For a second panic struck him; prompting him to step out of bed. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have trouble sleeping. You both shared that unfortunate plight. And you, on the particularly bad nights, would often wander around the palace and find something to admire. Something to pass the time.

“No wonder she never stays with you.” 

His subconscious threw at him as he stood to go look for you. He shook the thought away, leaving the cold room in hopes of finding warmer company with you. 

As he passed through the halls, checking every room he came across, he heard the chime of an old grandfather clock from down stairs.  

Dong...

Dong...

Dong. 

Three a.m. Hm. Time passes quickly in despair. 

He kept walking through the halls, hearing the beginnings of a storm from outside. A faint rain sprinkled the roof more than a hundred feet above him. It would have been calming if he could sleep, or if you were with him.  

It wasn’t too long until he found you though. A few hallways later, a grand staircase, and a pair of doors led him straight to you.  

Tonight he found you laying on the floor in the throne room. From outside you could hear the growing thunder rumbling like an old god, and the rain pattering the roof, more aggressive now than minutes before.   

“Darling? What are doing laying on the floor? And in the throne room no less? I’m sure the floor in our room is just as comfortable.” Maul asked, attempting to amuse the woman before him.  

You smiled up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes. You were wide awake. 

“I’m sure it is, but in here, if you lay on the floor, you can see the whole galaxy. Every star is right there for me to admire.” You turned your attention back to the windows, where rain fell, and clouds hid the stars.

Your responses never ceased to amaze him. You just wanted to see the stars. Such an innocent motive.

“Maybe she’s seen enough of you. The stars would be a good break. At least they’re actually beautiful.”  

He had to will the insults to stop. Now wasn’t the time for self-loathing; not around (Y/N).

Maul huffed a small laugh outwardly, and smiled at his beloved.  

“Well, I must say, It’s kind of hard to see the stars with all this rain.” Maul noted as he slowly kneeled down to sit beside you, trying not to make too much noise on the marble floor. His legs were clunky nonetheless, and he flinched every time they disturbed the quiet room.

“Yeah, but the rain is still beautiful to watch. It’s calming to listen to.”  

There it was. That unending optimism. The hope that was sewn into your every cell. Something he quite envied for himself.

“I guess you’re right.” There was a small pause before you sat up, and looked to Maul, concern clear in your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”  

Maul almost seemed taken aback. His eyes widened in surprise.  

“How could she tell?”  

“Hm? What do you mean?” He mumbled, keeping his attention to the windows. He knew you knew. You always knew, and yet he still tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. It was a stubborn habit by now.

“Your shoulders are slouched, your scowl is deeper than normal, and,” You reached over to turn his face so he would look at you, “You won’t look at me.” 

He leaned into your touch. Your skin was so soft and cool against his face, like a calming rain. But you weren’t wrong. He’d been avoiding your gaze since he sat down.  

He sighed, contemplating whether or not to give in and explain what had been gnawing at his mind for months.  

“I guess you’ve caught me.” Maul looked down, giving a nervous laugh before settling into an embarrassed silence.

You brought his eyes back to you with a gentle coo of his name. 

“Maul. What’s wrong?”  

The sincerity in your voice rent his heart, and your wide, concerned eyes broke his restraint. He couldn’t keep his worries from you when you looked at him like that.

“Well...I guess...” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts, “I just wonder how you could love me the way you do,” He couldn’t look at you, but from the corner of his eye, see the confusion growing in your expression, “I mean, look at me. I’m horrifying. I’m not even a whole being.”  

He looked to his mechanical legs, and sighed once more. 

“But that doesn’t really matter...” 

You looked at Maul with despair brimming your eyes.  

“But darling, you are whole. Look at you. I see a man before me whose fought his whole life to be where he is right now. You’ve come so far from where you began.” You held his hand as you spoke, noting the way he flinched when you first touched him.

“I know dear, but that’s not what I mean. Take a minute to look at me. Look at my body. You really like what you see? I’m half metal, and the half of me that isn’t, well, that’s not anything to look at either. Truly, dear, I don’t understand what you see in me. I’m hardly worthy of your love.”  

You could see tears start to line his eyes as he looked down to your joined hands. You remained silent for a moment, processing what Maul had said, and that every word of it was genuine. The rain was the only thing to break the silence in the empty, echoing throne room.

“Maul,” You began quietly, gathering your thoughts until you knew what you wanted to say.  

 He looked up at you with wide, expectant eyes, waiting for your response.  

“Look, she can’t even find words. You’re just that horrible.” 

Your voice silenced the horrid barb.

“If someone offered me every star in the galaxy, I would turn them away because as beautiful as the night sky is, it’s beauty is nothing compared to you. The adoration in my eyes stales at the stars. You are the truest beauty in my eyes. You’re all I ever want to see.”  

“Damn.”

Maul stared at you for a while. His eyes were wide and surprised. 

“...What?” He whimpered out after a moment, and a wave of heavy, hot tears stung at his eyes.

“Maul, darling, I love the way you look. I love the red of your skin, and the shape of your face. Your tattoos are beautiful, and they tell of your culture. I love to kiss them, and trace them. Your eyes are impossible to look away from. They’re gold, but there’s just the smallest hint of hazel streaking through them. When I look at you, you become my whole world. I never want to look away from you.” You held his face with one of your hands, and he held it there with his own. “Maul, you’re beautiful.” 

A beat. 

“She thinks I’m beautiful?”  

“No one’s ever said that to me before.”

His tears began to fall, and he didn’t try to stop them, but he did try to fight the sobs warring in the back of his throat. It didn’t last long, as they ripped themselves out. His sobs burst from his soul, and his shoulders shook violently.  

You scooted closer to him, and held him in your arms. 

“It’s okay dear. You’re okay.” You whispered into his ears.  

You knew he wouldn’t believe you. He hated his legs, and his face. He hated himself, and it destroyed you. But at least he knew that you found him beautiful, even if he couldn’t see it in himself. You tried so hard to let Maul see himself through your eyes. You admired him. Oh your whole heart ached when you looked at him. He was your sun, and you wanted him to feel as beautiful as he was to you.

He cried into your shoulder, and he held you tighter than he ever had. He didn’t dare let you go in case you were some long, elaborate, horribly beautiful dream. He couldn’t believe you. Yes, he heard you say it. It graced his ears in beautiful chimes, but he just couldn’t get it through his head. You thought he was beautiful.

Sobs echoed through the throne room at 3:30 in the morning. Mandalore glowed under the cloudy sky, but the clouds were beginning to break, and you could see a few stars now.  

There was a moment when his sobs broke, and he took a few quick deep breaths. In this moment, you took his face his your hand, and lifted it, so that his eyes met yours. His eyes were red, more red than usual, and despite his dark complection, you could clearly see the trails where his tears had fallen, and followed. He tried to look away from you, but you coaxed him back to you. 

“Maul...” You cooed once more before pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back with so much love, and so much strength. He flung his heart into it. You had to know how much he loved you.  

You pulled away and looked at his eyes before looking to his lips.

“And these lips. I would never wish to kiss any other lips. You’re beautiful dear, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”   

Maul closed his eyes and hugged you tight.

“I love you.” He whispered to you, and he whispered it again and again. 

“I love you.”  

“I. Love. You.” He hugged even tighter, and you could feel his love wave through the force around you. 

They were the only words he could think of. His only thoughts were on his unending love for you. His gratitude for your existence in his life; for everything you’d done for him through all these years. He would do anything for you. Maker, he loved you.  

You pulled away from him, and he gave the smallest whimper of displeasure.   

You just smiled softly at him, and placed a hand on his chest, pushing ever so slightly so that he would lay on the ground.  

You lay with him, your head resting in the curve of his neck, one hand drifting upwards to trace the tattoos on his face and rub his horns.  

He gave a pleased purr, and rubbed your back as you two looked back out the window. 

“And look, there are all the stars, shining now that the rain is gone.” You pointed up at the glimmering stars above.

He was silent for a moment, remembering what you had said just minutes before. It all meant so much to him. How could someone give all of that up for someone like him? All of those stars and planets? That beautiful view? The power that came with it? What advantage was there? What happiness could he give you that the rest of the galaxy didn’t have to offer?

“You’d really give all of that up for me?”   

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but you heard the words mumbled from his chest, and your answer had no uncertainty.

“In a heartbeat.” You answered with a gentle voice. 

So, on the cool floor of the Sundari Palace throne room, the two of you lay for the night, and Maul is finally starting to see his meaning to the universe. Well, to his universe at least.  

Tags!  

@justalittlecloud​

[kali-writes-meta]

Go Oft Awry: The Goals, Expectations, and Plans of Volume 8

The best-laid schemes of mice and men go oft awry -- Robert Burns

The first two chapters of Volume 8 were full of characters stating what they're going to do or what they expect to happen far more so than any other two consecutive episodes in RWBY have before. This is exciting from two different angles. It's exciting for the viewer who's just watching the series, and even more exciting from a writer's perspective. Y'all up for some scriptwriting theory?

There's a rule in scriptwriting that when it comes to the plot you NEVER repeat yourself. In practice this means that whenever a plan is spelled out in advance, it's not going to happen.

The classic example is the bride dreaming of walking down the aisle at her wedding. Anytime you see that, you know her wedding is going to be interrupted.

There are two exceptions to this rule. One is when the plan is being spelled out as a voiceover to scenes of the plan going down. Then it's okay, because the audience is still only experiencing it ONCE, not twice. We saw a bit of this technique used for the first time in RWBY in "Divide". The other exception is for an information-gathering plan when the new information distracts the audience, which we saw back in Volume 2 "Painting the Town".

What does this have to do with RWBY Volume 8? A lot, because we're hearing nothing but goals, expectations, and plans.

First, let's define the terms. A "goal" is what you're planning to do, not how you plan to do it. An infamous example from RWBY occurs in "The Argus Limited" when the Grimm attack the train.

Blake: What's the plan, Ruby?

Ruby: Don't let anyone else die!

Ruby, sweetie, I love you, but that's a goal, not a plan.

Confusion over goals and plans has only intensified since Volume 7 came out. Ironwood's GOAL of turning Amity into a communication satellite is brilliant, but his PLAN to do so by depriving Mantle's defenses was a disaster, and would have been a disaster even if what he thought was true about Salem really was the truth.

In stories, goals may be reachable -- but any expectation or plan that's spelled out in detail to the audience isn't going to happen exactly the way it's supposed to.

An "expectation" is what the character thinks is going to happen. In a story, if an expectation is stated out loud in detail, it's not going to happen exactly that way. A great example from RWBY is the introduction of Team FNKI.

Yang: You're from Atlas. What could we expect?

Weiss: Well, seeing as their Kingdom, academy and armed forces are all merged as one, I think we can expect strict, militant fighters with advanced technology and carefully rehearsed strategies.

At that very moment, a rainbow zooms past the two surprised Huntresses-in-training.

Weiss: ... Or whatever they are.

A "plan" is a detailed proposal for how to meet a goal. It's optimal for characters to have plans, but spelling a plan out in advance in detail to the audience is the kiss of doom. At that point you know they may reach their goal SOMEHOW, but it won't be by following that plan.

RWBY is full of concealed plans that work and revealed plans that fail. The best examples are probably the attacks on Beacon and Haven. Cinder's plan to attack Beacon was concealed from the audience and went off almost perfectly. Cinder's, Raven's, and Adam's separate plans for the Haven attack are all spelled out in detail to the audience, and all fail to go exactly as planned.

In "Divide" we start with the villains. Cinder has a goal to strip Penny of the Maiden power, but is thwarted by Salem. Salem already has a plan in motion and doesn't want Cinder's last-minute changes messing it up like happened at Haven. What's more worrying, Salem doesn't share her plan with the audience, so a large chunk of it just might work.

In Mantle, the Happy Huntresses have a goal to get everyone into the crater. We don't hear their plan spelled out in detail, although what we do hear in the background is a fairly standard evacuation model that's evolving to deal with changing circumstances, as such plans do. From a storytelling perspective, that's vague enough to the audience that it should mostly work. (The "mostly" comes not from any audience signalling that the writers are doing, but from the shear size of their endeavor.)

Ruby and Pietro have a goal to launch Amity via the military base command terminal. Not many details were spelled out in advance on camera, and much use was made of voiceover with action scenes, so we know at least part of the plan to get into the base will work.

Penny voices a naive goal to give Salem what she wants so she will go away, which is quickly shot down. The audience and most of the characters realize this would be a disaster, but does Penny?

Yang's team has a plan to help with the evacuation by doing what the emergency workers tell them to do. This is both a good plan for anyone assisting in an emergency, and from a storytelling perspective flexible enough to succeed.

Ironwood -- hoo boy. At this point it looks like he has a goal but nobody knows what it is, beyond "shoot anyone who says the F word." He's not jinxing any plans by sharing them. He's pretty free with his expectation that Mantle is doomed, but he doesn't go into enough detail to jinx that one.

Salem begins giving orders, but doesn't jinx it by telling us the whole plan.

Jacques spells out his expectation that Whitley will get Jacques' lawyers to free him. That means it won't happen exactly like that. (Personally I think Whitley is cooperating fully with the General and having the lawyers draw up divorce papers for Willow that remove Jacques from any custody considerations. It's the sort of thing that Whitley watched Jacques do.)

Ironwood has a plan for Watts, but we don't find out what it is.

Qrow states his goal to kill Ironwood, but doesn't spell out a plan.

Joanna steals a reporter's mic and announces the plan to retreat to the crater to the public. As this scene is intercut with scenes of people following that plan, it has a good chance of succeeding.

Ozpin spells out his expectation in detail for how the merge with Oscar will happen. That's been said often enough now that we know it won't happen exactly like that. He also states a goal to bring people together, but is candid about not knowing how. This is a goal in need of a plan, hopefully a plan that will be spelled out over scenes of it successfully happening.

May states an expectation that "between our secret weapon and my Semblance, you all couldn't be in safer hands." While this may be technically true, it also falls under the category of Famous Last Words. If we didn't know something was going to go wrong before, we do now.

Weiss states in detail a plan to get into the base which promptly goes sideways, as does Weiss herself. Hopefully that's all the jinxing that plan gets.

Fiona's evacuation plan is being adapted and carried out in real time, which saves it from narrative jinxing. Whether it will work against Salem is another matter. Getting everyone to the crater definitely qualifies as "the best bad plan we've got".

And we see one of Salem's unrevealed plans start to unfold with brutal, terrifying efficiency.

Finally, there's Ruby's nightmarish visions from the opening. Since these haven't been stated aloud, they also haven't been jinxed. There's no telling right now if these nightmares are prophetic visions or just bad dreams.

[creatorverse-lily]

Sleep Paralysis

Writing below the cut!

How long has it been since she’s last breathed?

She felt numb. The distant sound of music playing softly in the background as she stood unmoving. She watches as she moves around the room, blissfully unaware of her presence. She should be mad, but when she tries to gather the energy to be angry, she only finds herself empty handed.

How long has it been? How much time had passed? She stopped counting after 458 days, 10 hours and 15 seconds. Her past self had realized that there was no point in counting anymore. She was stuck here forever after all.

She was doomed to watch her captor everyday. She watches her every movement of the day. If she was given an option, she wouldn’t be doing this to herself. But she had no choice. Everyday was torture, watching her laugh, smile and even cry. She hated her, but she found no energy left in herself to really care.

When she first realized her situation, she laughed. Saying that this was nothing more than a nightmare, a bad dream. Foolish optimism fueled her to keep trying, get people’s attention. But no matter how hard she tried, they saw through her.

It was almost as if she was a ghost. But she knew better than that. She wasn’t dead. She knows she’s not dead. But why does it feel like it?

When her foolish past self finally came to terms with their situation, she was furious.

She had screamed, insulted and attempted to fight her captor. She yelled out all the insults she knew, her balled fists hitting her captor. She had tried so hard to get her voice be heard. Her efforts were for naught, she remained unaffected. Her fists only phasing through her body.

Well, her efforts weren’t completely for nothing. /She/ heard her. The discovery was completely by accident.

“I HATE YOU!” She screamed at her captor who was currently huddled in bundles of blankets. She didn’t deserve that. “YOU DID THIS TO ME! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!” She continued, never stopping. A few months ago she would have stopped for brief breaths of air, but now she knew enough to know that that was unnecessary.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” Her voice cracked near the end, the tears she was trying so hard to hold back slowly starting to fall. “I-I trusted you..” She started crying, her frustrated tears freely falling now.

“Why can’t you hear me?” She whispered with a pained voice. Sadness replaced her previous fury. Her words were reciprocated with silence, and her anger came rushing back in tenfold.

“I’M HERE!” She yelled, her voice cracking once more. “DON’T YOU REMEMBER ME?!” And she kept yelling, the tears of both frustration and sadness falling faster.

“MY NAME IS-“

And it was then, when it happened.

“Is anyone there?” Her captor whispered, cutting off her sentence. Both of them were plunged into silence. It lasted only a few seconds, but those mere seconds felt like hours. She broke into pained wails.

No one else except her captor could hear her. But even then, the moments where her captor could hear her were rare. Only lasting up to a few minutes at best.

It was cruel, her situation. But she no longer found the energy to care. Not anymore. She watched everything pass before her in silence. She listened to their conversations, unable to participate. She watches her captor live a life that she doesn’t deserve.

She wonders if someone out there was enjoying this. Watching her be in pain. She hates it. She hates it so much.

Sometimes, late at night while her captor sleeps. She asks the silence what she’d done to deserve this. What actions she’s committed to warrant the punishment that is her situation.

She wonders what she did to be able to live life naively.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. She’s given up and she was tired. So, so tired. She was tired of watching, of listening, of being angry.

So she lets herself fade into the background. Willingly accepting the life she suffers through.

She will live through this eternal nightmare, and she will never be waken up.

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Six - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

I’ve been playing Animal Crossing New Horizons non stop ever since its release. I’m completely addicted to this game.

If you want to share your Switch code or Island code (is that how it’s called in english?) with me, PM me, I would be very happy to visit your islands! I still can’t modify my island though, and I plan to destroy everything to start from zero haha.

Anyway, with this game, I have to remind myself that I have a story to write, and here is chapter 6!

They didn’t stay as late this time, and Marinette was grateful for it. As much as she wanted to spend time with Robin, she wanted to catch a little bit of sleep, but also have a talk with Tikki.

The kwami would not be pleased that her secret was out.

The designer let out a sigh after she bid goodbye to Robin. She wasn’t in the mood for one of Tikki’s lecture about her secret identity, she had enough of those for a lifetime if she were to be honest.

But she would feel guilty if she didn’t tell the tiny god about this new development, so there was no delaying it.

Taking the purse where the kwami of luck was sleeping in, she locked herself inside the bathroom, careful to not make any noise that could wake Alya up.

“Tikki, wake up!” she yell-whispered.

Tikki stirred for a little bit, blinking at her holder.

“Marinette? You’re back from your outing with Robin?” she whispered in return.

“Yeah, but something happened.”

This woke the little god at once.

“Wha-”

“Ssssh! Not so loud, you’re going to wake Alya up!”

They both looked at the bathroom’s door, as if the reporter was going to appear before them.

“Tikki, you’re not going to be happy, but Robin, along with his teammates know my identity. And Chat’s too.”

Tikki froze.

“How the hell is that possible?”

The bluenette explained what Robin had told her earlier.

“Of course, technology…” Tikki sighed. “I hate technology. Magic has not mixed well with it ever since it was invented. But for it to work, they must have one hell of a software. It’s normally easy to fool facial recognition by hiding a little bit of your face, so they must have a really powerful software.”

The god of creation looked at Marinette directly in the eyes, smiling softly.

“I’m not mad at you. I know that I’ve always been lecturing you about your identity and your duty as Ladybug, but this is not your fault. It’s not ideal, but at least it’s your soulmate and not some random people… And maybe they could help with the situation with Hawkmoth!” she concluded, excited.

“About that, they did call the JLE but were rejected…”

“So it’s only down to the two of you then…”

Speaking of Chat Noir…

“Oh no… Tikki, how is Chat Noir going to take it? That someone knows my identity and that it’s not him!”

Tikki’s face became grim.

“Are you going to tell him? I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“He’s my partner, of course I have to tell him!”

Tikki sighed.

“Look, Marinette. Chat Noir has been doing better ever since you had this serious conversation with him. He takes his job seriously, he stopped flirting and joking… But he still loves you. I’m afraid that if you tell him, he will take it hard and go back to the way he was before…”

“I get what you’re saying, but I trust Chat. I don’t think it will happen. Anyway, I won’t see him for another two weeks, it will give me time to find a way to bring it up to him.”

Marinette fell silent.

“I will also have to tell him that I found my soulmate…”

Tikki smiled sadly.

“And he’s still convinced that the two of you are soulmates.”

The Eurasian girl sighed.

“We’ll cross that bridge later. We should go to bed for now, Tikki.”

The little god flew to her holder’s cheek, placing a small kiss there.

“I’m very proud of you, Marinette. I know you were scared about talking to me, but don’t forget that I am, and always will be, proud of you.”

The teenage girl smiled brightly.

“Thank you, Tikki. That means a lot.”

The rest of the week was incredible. Gotham, while not as bright as Paris was, was a beautiful city with a lot of History. They had a lot to visit and each location gave Marinette so much inspiration.

The class has been worried about going to the city with the highest crime rate in the world, but they have been lucky so far. One of the locations they have been visiting has been attacked, but they had left twenty minutes before that.

The class caught sight of several of the vigilantes, to everyone’s delight.

“I wish I could get an interview with them…” complained Alya one day.

Adrien laughed.

“I don’t think they are as accessible as Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“I’m still optimistic that I can get one by the end of the trip!”

“Keep dreaming, Alya.” winked Kim who has been hovering behind them.

Marinette smiled, watching her friends bickering. She didn’t feel Rose coming at her side.

“You’ve been oddly happy these days, Mari.”

The blonde looked at her, a knowing look and a slight smirk on her face.

The dark-haired girl smiled, holding her sketchbook up.

“Of course! Gotham has so many Victorian and Gothic buildings, it’s beautiful! It gave me many ideas for future designs!”

The knowing look and smirk disappeared to give way to a beaming smile.

“Really?! Can I see?”

Marinette handed her her sketchbook, relieved. She swore that Rose had a radar of some sort and could feel love from miles away.

Not that she was in love with Robin yet, but she had to admit that she did like him a bit and enjoyed spending time with him.

She couldn’t wait to see him tonight.

After days of telling him things about her and vice versa, they began talking about everything and nothing.

She didn’t remember how they got to talk about seemingly bad people changing for the better.

“I don’t think it’s possible.” said Robin.

“You think a bad person will always stay bad? That they won’t ever realize that what they’ve been doing was wrong?”

The vigilante nodded.

“Well, I don’t agree with you. I think people can change, it’s just that some of them need a push.”

He looked at her, waiting for her to develop her thought.

“For example, my classmate, Lila. When she was first transferred into our class, she was always lying. Telling people what they wanted to hear to make friends. Eventually, my class realized she was lying and she stopped. See? She was really mean, and she’s still a bit mean, but she changed!”

Robin scoffed.

“You’re really naive if you think that.”

The girl frowned.

“How so?” she asked, not offended by his rudeness.

“That girl didn’t stop lying because she realized that it was wrong. She stopped lying because it wasn’t interesting for her to do so anymore. She lost her public, your classmates knew to take everything she said with a grain of salt, so why keep lying? The day she will switch class or meet new people, she will start lying again.”

Alright, she could see his point, but it was a bit pessimistic in her opinion.

“You’re right. Maybe that’s the case. But maybe not. Even if I don’t like Lila, I want to the best in her, and I really hope that she changed.”

She nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling at him.

“I’ll let you be the pessimistic one, but be prepared for my optimism!”

She took the sketchbook that laid beside her.

“Anyway! We got our last day of touring today before we all begin our internships tomorrow, and I got really inspired for an outfit. I would like your opinion.”

She handed him the sketchbook.

“You’re doing an internship at Wayne Enterprises, right? In what sector?” he asked as he took the sketchbook from her.

“Yeah… I’m doing it in business management. I want to have my own line one day, and for that, I have to start a business, and thus, know how to run one. I’ll be shadowing the co-CEO, Timothy Drake.” she smiled.

Robin choked. Tim didn’t say anything about that.

“The co-CEO, really?”

“Yeah, I know. I was really surprised too. It seems very unusual too.”

And it was. But Robin suspected that Bruce and Tim arranged it that way because Marinette was Ladybug and they wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure that she wasn’t overwhelmed with her duty as Ladybug and her life as a civilian.

Maybe the Agreste boy was shadowing Tim too, as he was Chat Noir. Then again, maybe not. Ladybug was the obvious leader, as much as they claimed they were a team of equals.

He would have to ask Tim about that and have a serious talk with him about not being weird with Marinette.

He got along very well with her as Robin and he didn’t want his brother to ruin it for Damian.

He opened the sketchbook, stunned by the designs.

“You’re very talented.” he said as he turned the pages.

“Oh, thank you.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was blushing, looking at anything but him.

She was very modest or not used to compliments, he observed.

He arrived at the last page of drawings, where a very detailed sketch of a man outfit laid.

“I really like this outfit.” he pointed to her.

The fashion designer smiled.

“Actually, I was thinking of you for this outfit.”

Robin looked at her, surprised.

“If you don’t mind, before I go back to Paris, I would like to get your measurements. I would like to make it for you.”

A small smile appeared on his face. That would be nice.

“I will give you a safe address to send it, then. I’ll give you my measurements tomorrow. Thank you, Marinette.”

His soulmate beamed and he fought the blush that was making its way on his face. He hoped she wouldn’t see how red his ears were.

“You’re welcome!”

The smile quickly disappeared though, and she now looked nervous.

“Is something wrong?”

He decided that he didn’t like seeing her like this.

“There is also something that I wanted to ask you.”

He raised an eyebrow and she looked even more nervous. Damn, wrong move.

“You can ask me anything, you know.”

He hoped that it would calm her a little. He wanted her to be at ease with him, to not be scared of asking him anything.

“Ah, two things, actually. The first one is, I would like to introduce you to Tikki.”

He began to protest.

“Ah, no! Don’t worry. She’s not a classmate or anything. She’s not even human. She’s a being that gives me my powers as Ladybug, and since you know my identity, she would like to meet you. She’s been giving us time alone until now, but she still would like to meet one of the only people knowing about my identity. And probably give you a little lecture too, knowing her.”

Robin sighed, relieved. For a second he was scared that she told one of her friends about him. He should have known better.

“Alright then, I’ll meet her. What’s the other thing?”

Marinette’s nervousness came back as she wrung her fingers.

“It’s a bit more delicate… You see, I’ve been thinking about how I will go back to Paris at the end of next week and I don’t know when we’ll see each other again… So I was wondering if… If you had a secure phone number or mail address so we can keep contact…”

The vigilante smiled fondly. In a bold move, he ruffled her hair.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. I’ve been thinking about it and my phone is one of the most secure you can find, so I don’t worry about giving you my number. I’ve been meaning to give it to you by the end of your trip.”

He, Tim and Barbara had made sure that no one would ever be able to hack their phones.

The blue-eyed girl pouted, trying to style her hair back to the way before he messed it up.

She was cute, he thought fondly.

She smiled at him after processing what she said.

“Great, then! We’ll be able to call each other then! Will video calls be ok as well?”

He nodded. “As long as you send a text beforehand to make sure I’m in costume.”

“Oh, yes, of course!”

He watched as she looked at the horizon.

“I’ll be sad though. I’ll be back in Paris and you won’t be there.”

He could feel his cheeks warming.

“We’re not there yet. And we still have a good week in each other’s company.”

After seeing Marinette every day for two weeks, Robin knew it would be difficult to readjust to life without her.

It was as if she’s been in his life for far longer.

“Come on, it’s getting late. You’ve got your first day of internship tomorrow, you want to make a good impression, right? Looking like a zombie tomorrow will have the opposite effect.”

And he wanted to catch Tim tonight to have a talk about his behavior for tomorrow.

The French girl playfully hit his arm at his zombie comment, but still smiled at him.

He swore that one day he would go blind because of her smiles.

Tag list: 

@bigpicklebananatree​ @animegirlweeb​ @crazylittlemunchkin​ @northernbluetongue​ @cutechip​ @justafanwarrior​ @iloontjeboontje​ @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218 @amayakans @zestyzealot

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil (Part 40) - Story 2

It all falls apart the next day. Azula had thought that perhaps she would last a day or even a half a day longer. That things wouldn't get so emotionally brutal so startlingly fast. 

It began, as many things do, with the petty discomforts. Upon waking she was greeted by a cluster of snickering spirits bearing their ugly little phosphorescent teeth. It is not yet light out, the sky is still a deeper shade of blue and the canopy lets the night linger on longer than it otherwise would. But Azula doesn't need the light to know what mischief has the spirits in such a state of amusement. When she sits up her hair, horribly knotted brushes against her back, shoulders, and biceps. Tangled quite deliberately in her licks are twigs, dead palm fronds, and whatever other little piece of debris that they could find.

She likes to think that she might have handled things better if her mood hadn’t been soiled the moment she’d woken up. She likes to think that she would have been more agreeable, easier to tolerate. But she is certain, deep down, that she is just like this and that she will always be like this. That regardless of the spirits, things would have ended exactly as they just have; with she on her own and dwelling upon the events leading up to this. 

She wonders if they are looking for her or if they have already solemnly agreed that this is what is for the best. Perhaps they are well on their way back home, leaving her as just one more misery of the past. 

Of course, she won’t be reduced only to a bad memory if she manages to make it out of this jungle and back to the palace alive. All she has left to do is push forward, she can’t imagine that the spirit is too far now. And now that she is alone it may be more inclined to approach her. 

 As she walks, she continues trying to pick the leaves and twigs from her hair. She is beginning to think, with a queasiness, that she will have to cut it. And maybe it is for the best, she doesn’t feel a though she has earned long hair. 

Agni, how had she let herself become this?

She is so, so alone. Even when she had companionship she was alone. Deep down she hopes that they are worried about her. She doesn’t hold her breath on that. Perhaps, though, Seicho is worried--worried that she has found herself a new volcano. 

Sometimes she wonders if she should be seeking one out, or something like it…

She squeezes her eyes shut. 

She has to keep pushing forward. Against the jungle, against her mind, against herself. 

And try as she may, she can’t stop replaying the day.

.oOo.

“Try to hold still.”

She gives it her best effort but she can’t help but to flinch when TyLee plucks strands of her hair out alongside some of the larger twigs. Apparently her utter distress upon waking was enough to wash away the argument of the day before She imagines that Mai gets a kick out of each and every wince even if it doesn’t show on her face. 

“I got one!” Seicho grins. She holds up the stick and twirls it between her fingers. “It’s kind of shaped like an S!” She declares. “S for Seicho.” She mumbles. 

Azula manages a half smile. For just a short span of time, she thinks that her day might not be so horrible. She truly wishes that it had been horrible from the start. Maybe then she wouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.  “Hmm…” TyLee mumbles, “this looks like it’s going to be tricky.” Her fingers work to untangle a palm frond. And Azula’s tummy tickles, it has been so very long since TyLee has afforded her any affectionate gestures. Spirits, she has been so deprived. So ravenous for touch. She thinks of Seicho; she feels horrid for thinking as much but the woman had been just a raindrop on her tongue as she dehydrated in a desert.  

After a few more minutes of picking and toying, Azula sighs, “we should probably come back to this later, I’d like to make some progress today.”

“Ugg, yes please.” Mai grumbles. “Standing in one place is tortured. The bugs have all found me.”  Zuko accentuates her point by slapping at his own cheek and cringing. 

Much to her dismay she finds that the newly  reconciled couple had been correct. It is swelteringly hot and the insects are coming in swarms. Biting and sucking until Azula’s skin twitches even in their absence. 

From the look of it, the rest of her party isn’t particularly comfortable either. 

The sheen of sweat on her skin only seems to be drawing more bugs in and her head feels so heavy under the added weight of knots, twigs, and leaves. Her feet hurt and her mouth is running dry and she can’t even make conversation to pass the time as Zuzu and Mai do. She tries to focus on Seicho’s chatter, mostly nonsensical musings with a coherent story or two. 

Azula hovers around TyLee but the woman has gone back to mostly ignoring her.  She thinks that arguments are significantly worse now; it is both easier for her to ignore people and to be ignored. And right now she yearns to speak up. To ask what is on TyLee’s mind. She doesn’t dare put her hands on the woman even if it is only to simply capture her attention. She can’t do it, not even a gentle tap, not after everything.  Likely it will take more than a gentle tap to get the attention she craves anyhow. 

The longer she walks in silence and rejection, the crankier she becomes. While Mai and Zuko fawn over each other and Seicho and TyLee bond, she dwells on the aching in her feet and thighs. And then she begins to dwell on how much she is beginning to resent Seicho. Seicho and her quirky optimism and her fun stories. How she is starting to loathe her pretty face and her extraordinary kindness. It is everything TyLee needs and deserves and more. Spirits, they have already grown so close in only a few days. 

She ruminates on it, speculates on whether this was her way of getting back at Azula for rejecting her or if she truly is that naive.  

The smile that once saved her now elicates a burning hatred, a silent seething, and a feeling of isolation and betrayal. 

Though she finds she isn’t alone for long.

No, the spirits rather enjoy her company. They find it quite fun to tug on her ears and leave little claw marks upon her skin. They bite her enough to ward the bugs off and her loathing only swells in her chest. And none of them seem to notice. So minor are her battle wounds that they don’t realize she is being attacked. 

No one ever seems to realize when she is in pain nor how terribly she aches. 

No one but Seicho who is now too invested in TyLee to care. 

Obliviousness, is as vexing as pointed offenses.

They finally come to a stop in a little clearing by a stream. Azula sits down and dabs the sweat off of her forehead and wipes the blood from her cheeks and arms. She is such a mess and no one cares. No one…

“Do you want something to snack on?” Zuko offers. His brows furrow, “what happened?”

She picks up a stick and scrawls in the dirt, ‘you and Mai got bug bites, I got spirits…’ 

TyLee’s lips press into a thin line and before she can look away Azula scrawls, ‘why won’t you talk to me? You were this morning.’

“Because I’m still not happy about yesterday.” She confesses. “You still treat people who care about you like they don’t matter.”

Azula’s stomach lurches. They do matter to her. They matter enough that it tears her up. They matter so much that she begrudges them when she stops mattering to them. 

“Seicho has been nothing but nice to you and she’s been so wonderful to me and you just say mean things to her.”

Azula shakes her head. ‘I say nice things to her. Maybe you would know if you had been there.’ Even without her voice she still says regrettable things. She is certain that TyLee had read it before she’d managed to kick the message away. 

“Maybe I would have been there if I felt like it would have made a difference.” 

She truly isn’t used to TyLee showing so many teeth. She really is a lot bolder now. Perhaps she should have let the woman continue to ignore her. The spirits giggle and whisper--at least she can make someone happy. 

‘It would have. I need someone…’

“Not me.” TyLee says before she can finish. “My destiny isn’t to fix you and your problems.” She takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I want to Azula, but I can’t.”

‘Please don’t be mad at me.’ She underlines ‘please’, points at it even. But TyLee only shakes her head. She taps the stick against please once more. And with somewhat unsteady hands she adds, ‘I’m sorry, Ty.’

TyLee looks away. 

This time she finds the courage to reach out. She cups TyLee’s cheek as gently and affectionately as she knows how.  But TyLee only takes a step back and then she begins walking away altogether. Azula reaches out and takes her by the wrist, face twisted in distress. TyLee yanks her hand free, “don’t touch me, Azula. Please, don’t.” 

Azula points at the apology. 

TyLee only shakes her head again. “That’s not good enough, Azula.”

‘Then what is?’

“I...I don’t know.” 

“Maybe you could try…” Seicho starts.

‘You stay out of this!’ Azula writes with a speed and force that nearly snaps the stick. ‘You’ve done enough!’

“Don’t treat her like that, Azula!” TyLee half-whines, half-yells. “Don’t...don’t treat her like you used to treat me. You don’t get it do you?”

But she thinks that she does. Too late, she realizes that TyLee has seen herself in Seicho. She has seen their old relationship in the one that she is forming with Seicho. And, for the first time, she considers that Seicho has been sacrificing a lot of herself just to keep Azula going. 

She swallows hard. Truth be told, she isn’t sure what her driving emotion is. But it is either anger and frustration, despair and hopelessness, or shame and guilt that has compelled her to throw the stick down, sling her pack over her shoulder, and take off without a parting message. 

“Azula, wait!” She hears Zuko call and then a murmur from Mai, “just let her go.” 

He calls out again regardless. But she doesn’t listen. This is her journey anyways, her mess, her burden. She was probably meant to face it alone.

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

When The Dust Settles

Summary: The fight at CrashCon had been a mess. 

Michael had found that his genius really did increase when he was pissed off and he had managed to build the fateful bomb in just over ten hours - with little thought to his own safety, to be honest, when the fate of someone else far more important had been looming over him the entire time.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

Word Count: 1,821

[Also on AO3]

The fight at CrashCon had been a mess.

Michael had found that his genius really did increase when he was pissed off and he had managed to build the fateful bomb in just over ten hours - with little thought to his own safety, to be honest, when the fate of someone else far more important had been looming over him the entire time.

But nothing had gone as planned. Or, in a way, everything had gone as planned. That is, if the plan was to make sure that everyone he loved was still alive by the end of the evening.

CrashCon was in full swing by the time they arrived. Hundreds of people in tin foil hats and homemade alien costumes, so unaware of what was about to unfold.

Helena had cruelly made Michael hand the bomb over to Jesse himself. Hand over his life to the one man who was so hell-bent on destroying it.

But despite being promised, he still hadn’t seen Alex yet. Hell, since Helena had handed him the specs for the device, he’d wondered if maybe he was simply clinging to some naive hope that Alex was even still alive. That the Manes men hadn’t already wiped out the flaw in their bloodline.

He had been so tempted to up and run with the bomb when he noticed Alex in the distance. Alive and whole and if Flint hadn’t have been standing far too close to him to be natural and Alex didn’t have that heartbreakingly pained expression on his face, Michael could believe that the entire kidnapping hadn’t been real.

But no, Alex was still clearly in danger so Michael wasn’t going to risk anything.

And that’s when it all went to hell.

First Jesse had the bomb. He was keeping it safe in his possession until the opportune moment which had given Michael enough time to escape his captors clutches and find Max and Isobel to warn them of what was going on.

Then from some quick thinking and a distraction from Max, Michael had ended up with the device, then the failsafe that he had secretly installed failed, then Helena had managed to grab it, then Michael lost track of it completely for a good thirty minutes, then Flint had it, then maybe Jesse again?

Then Alex.

And it was like Flint saw red. A traitor, that’s what he’d called Alex. With no sign of regret or remorse he had completely disowned his own brother when Michael had mentioned his name the day before.

And now, Flint showed no hesitation when he opened fire on the enemy.

Michael barely had a second to register what was going on when the screaming began and he was suddenly caught in the middle of the huge stampede of terrified alien fanatics rushing to safety.

There had been gunfire and smoke and explosions from a hit power transformer and it was impossible to tell who was where and who was hurt.

But it was over quickly. Police trucks and ambulances arrived in record time and soon everything was quiet again.

The injured were tended to and fairground employees returned to their rides to take stock of the damage and through the still smokey haze Max had jogged over him.

“Flint and Jesse are down, Iz has the bomb, it’s safe.” Max told him, the words sluggishly reaching his brain through the ringing in his ears, but he didn’t care about that right now.

And like Max could read his thoughts, he placed one hand on Michael’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “He’s over by the stage. He’s okay.”

Michael barely let out a ‘thank you’ before rushing to the wooden platform that was supposed to play host to the biggest event of the evening.

Just the sight of Alex made Michael freeze, his chest heaving with relief.

The airman was sitting on the platform, his legs hanging over the edge with his feet just grazing the grass. He was fiddling with his hands and he just looked…lost.

From a distance it seemed like he was unhurt, physically, but Michael could only imagine what was running through his mind. He had almost just been killed by his brother, not to mention the whole being held captive by his own family for almost a week.

Michael wanted to hug him, he wanted to literally cry with joy at the fact that Alex was not only alive, but actually safe now in front of him. But he also didn’t want to overwhelm him. Being casual was key if he didn’t want to spook the man who was so clearly wrapped up inside his own thoughts right now.

But it’s like his brain was trying to process so many emotions that he wasn’t sure whether to show or not, that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“So, you still think there’s some good in everyone?” He playfully nudged Alex’s shoulder with his own as he took a seat next to him.

Alex’s withdrawn expression quickly crumbled as his eyes filled with tears. Looking to the ground with a shaky inhale.

“Oh my god, no Alex, I’m sorry, that was a really dumb joke.” He frantically tried to backtrack, turning to face Alex properly as he placed a reassuring hand on the other man’s knee.

He watched as Alex bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating huff of laughter.

“You’re right though.” Alex whispered, “It was stupid of me. My blind optimism, my naivety. It almost got you killed.”

“Alex…”

“If I hadn’t have been so trusting, none of this would have happened. You, Max and Isobel, you wouldn’t have nearly died.”

Up close Michael could see how exhausted he looked. The moonlight accentuated his tired eyes and pale cheeks and the fine tremors running through his body were easy to miss if you weren’t looking close enough.

Michael ducked his head to try and get Alex to look at him properly, the corners of his mouth rising slightly when those tear filled eyes met his own.

“I lied, you know.” He smiled gently, “What I said in the bunker. Your ability to see the good in everyone, even after all the hurt you’ve gone through. I’ve never stopped loving that about you.”

Alex’s lips parted as if to speak but Michael didn’t want to give him a chance to write off what he was saying.

“I didn’t say it was stupid because it’s naive. It just- It scared me, hearing you say it. Just the thought of how easily people could take advantage of you and your faith in humanity. How easily you could get hurt because of it.”

“It serves me right,” Alex shrugged, turning back to look at his hands, “What my dad and Flint did to me, it’s my own fault.”

“Hey, hey, no that’s not- you know what, can we start over? I’m really fucking happy that you’re alive.”

“You are?” Alex asked, the words coming out quiet and shaky.

Michael spluttered in surprise and was unable to hide the confusion on his face even if he wanted to. “Alex, I just made a bomb that could wipe out what’s left of my entire species, in less than half a day might I add, because there was no way in hell that I was going to let you die.”

Alex looked up once more as Michael spoke and it was clear that he’d failed in his mission to hold back his tears as they feel silently down his face. He had gotten so good at hiding his pain recently, so to see it written so raw on his features was a surprise to Michael.

The cowboy was happy to admit that he was the first to shy away from those big emotions. When things got tough, he’d smash things - create a mess or create a scene. He’d say and do things to sabotage his own happiness and the happiness of the people he cared about. But right now, for the first time in a long time, there was no urge to start an argument or walk away - but the exact opposite. It was so clear that Alex needed reassurances and Michael wasn’t going to start letting him down again now.

“And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe.”

It was like those words were the magical key to opening the floodgates because a second later a breath caught in Alex’s throat before he was racked his sobs. Michael didn’t hesitate to tenderly guide Alex’s head to his chest and held him tightly as his shoulders shook and his cries were muffled by Michael’s shirt.

He could feel the checkered flannel getting wet but he couldn’t even begin to care. He squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed one hand up and down the length of Alex’s back, content to stay there for as long as it took for Alex to let it all out.

“They really hate me that much.” Alex hiccuped, turning his face slightly so that his words could be heard but he didn't break the contact with Michael’s chest.

“Forget them, okay? They’re not important, they don’t mean anything. They’re not your family Alex, they never have been. But we are, Liz, Maria, Isobel…me. And we’re not going anywhere.”

He could feel Alex nod slightly and for now that would have to do. He’d learnt a long time ago that he couldn’t make Alex believe anything he didn’t want to, but Michael just really hoped that his words had been convincing.

He could still feel Alex crying as he repositioned his chin on top of the other man’s head. He took a deep breath as he felt his own eyes begin to well up.

“You know the whole where’s-Alex-scavenger-hunt thing was quite therapeutic actually, I even hit your dad over the head with his own crutch.”

Alex couldn’t hold back his disbelieving chuckle and Michael’s chest warmed at the sound.

“I did that once too, with my own crutch.” Alex whispered as he clung weakly to Michael’s shirt.

“Wait, what??” Michael laughed. “You never told me this!”

He felt Alex chuckle again but the man said no more.

It was quiet between them for a moment. Alex’s shaking began to slow as Michael continued to hold him.

“You shouldn’t have built that bomb…but thank you for trying to save me.”

A thank you instead of a lecture? Michael chalked it up to the exhaustion but received it gratefully nonetheless. He’d probably get an earful from Alex tomorrow once he was more rested and could form actual unemotional, coherent thoughts, but right now Michael couldn’t ask for any more.

I’ll always save you he thought to himself as he closed his eyes once more and held Alex just a little bit tighter.

[the-ship-maker-2]

Tabby Anderson’s Backstory

It’s finally done. After a whole month of working on this. It’s done.

TW: Death, child abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, physical abuse, bullying, offensive language, mentions of suicide, homicide.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING.

      So….I probably should tell you a little bit about myself. My name is Tabithia Roxanne Anderson but please call me Tabby. I am seventeen years old and I have a slew of disorders. Starting with narcolepsy, insomnia, anxiety, OCD, PTSD, and paranoia. We’re probably missing a few others because therapists and doctors can’t do their jobs in diagnostics correctly…but anyways… I digress, I’ll get to that part later on in the story….

      Anyways from the time I was born I was already at a disadvantage. My mother Shanna Wolfe had me with my biological dad Michael Anderson. My mother… how do I describe her… she’s a good person all around for the most part… She has a big heart and is very compassionate… very moraled and loyal too. But she’s not very bright and she lacks the ability to stand up for herself to which she couldn’t stand up for me. My biological dad was the complete opposite. He was intelligent and able to stand up to anyone….if that included getting over on other people and standing up to anyone who was weaker than him. He was a coward and a bully. I came to despise him later on in life as I got older. He’s dead now thank thy lord. He died when I was twelve due to pneumonia and drug overdose. He was always into drugs as far as I knew growing up but he didn’t get into the hardcore drugs like heroin and meth later on. But I’m getting ahead of myself. As a child I remember only getting three to four hours of sleep at night (My insomnia wasn’t diagnosed at the time yet) and seeing the bruises on my mother’s face on her eyes and cheekbones. My mother was abused mentally, verbally, emotionally, and physically. Always listening to them arguing. I myself got lucky somehow. I was just neglected by my dad. 

      I remember my mom telling me this story once or so. I was left by myself. My dad was upstairs with the neighbors getting high on weed and other things. My mom was at work at the time. She used to work at a nursing and rehabilitation center called The Hills as a CNA before she got fired. Sometimes she would bring me to work if she really couldn’t find a babysitter and I would sit in the lounge watching the two movies I brought with me. Which was always Bartok the Magnificent and Shark Tale. But anyways I was left by myself and I saw something on the coffee table. Turns out they were pain pills on a high dosage. It was brightly colored and I thought it was candy so I was about to take them. My mom walked through the front door just in the nick of time. She screamed at me and snatched me away from the coffee table. I was confused but later on in life I was thankful for what she did. Later on that night I heard them getting into a fight about what happened. My mother lost of course but she still tried to do what was right as a mother for once. I was four years old.

      One of the stories that I really remember is when my grandmother came to visit. My dad’s mother. It was my first traumatic event. He was too lazy to get his own drugs which were just weed at the time from a couple of blocks down where his drug dealer was. He threatened my grandmother at knife point saying how if she doesn’t get his drugs then he’ll slit her throat. My dumbass at the time came out of my room and down the stairs so I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw me and with lightning speed came over to me and held the same knife at me thoat. I began to cry. My dad said that If I didn’t stop crying and if I didn’t get his drugs then He would kill me, my mom and grandmother. So I was reduced to sniffles and agreed. He gave me the address which was literally down the street just five houses down. I’ve seen the house before all the time due to mom taking me to go to the park to play. So I knew where to go. I did what I was told and no one was killed thankfully. That was the last straw for my mother when she found out. She packed up our stuff that actually belonged to us and took me with her out of that house that we were living in. That’s really the only time I can remember when my mother actually stood up for me and did her actual job as a mother. I was also four at the time.

      We got our own apartment pretty quickly. It was on the other side of town. It wasn’t the good part of town, lots of drug users and dealers and drunks in my neighborhood. But we were poor and it was the cheapest that we could get for rent. But my mom got it all on her own and well beggars can’t be choosers. However, even with this new found freedom she still lacked the ability to stand up for herself. Like I said before she’s very compassionate and is just too good for her own good. She would bring home random strangers she met on the streets to “help them back up on their feet” in exchange for helping around the house and babysitting me. But in reality they were just there for the pussy and free ride. They used my mom in every way possible. And that’s what started my severe distrust and dislike of males in general. I assumed that just about every male was like that since that seemed to be the same pattern with every person she brought in.  I was still neglected so I learned to do the basics of taking care of myself. I learned how to get myself up on time, I learned to bathe myself and I learned to make canned soup, cereal, and sandwiches, and I learned to keep myself occupied. I’m honestly still asking myself how the fuck am I still alive? Because It’s already dangerous enough bringing home strangers from the streets especially if there’s a kid involved. I mean who knows what could happen if i was left alone with strangers who clearly didn’t give two fucks about me. Miraculously I’m still alive and I was just neglected like usual. 

       I…have this gift that is the core of my intuition.I can just see through a person easily and figure out what their true intentions are vaguely. I’ve always been highly intuitive on top of being able to see the paranormal. I could always vaguely tell if a person is good or bad with just a minute of looking at them. And with every person she brought home I always felt uncomfortable and I can just tell that they had bad intentions. I always tried to tell my mom about each person that she brought home but like with every adult that I ever encountered she brushed me off and told me that I was wrong. But I knew better. I knew I wasn’t wrong. God, looking back on it now, one of the few good things that I miss about my younger self is the amount of self confidence that I had that I lost over the years. Eventually I stopped trying to tell my mother about the various people that she brought home and just kept everything to myself. I mean why keep trying the same thing that I know doesn’t work? Anyways I just focused more on myself for my own survival since my mom wouldn’t listen to me. My mom actively made the choices to bring home these people so she knew what she was doing and I didn’t worry about her. Let her have the consequences of her own actions. I had and still don’t have sympathy for her. 

      Then on that fateful day, he came along.

       I came home from preschool one day. I opened up the door to see my mom standing there and this strange man sitting on our couch. We locked eyes. His piercing icy blue eyes met my unnaturally wide hazel eyes that still take up 50% of my face. As I said before I can read people easily and normally have a very good intuition about them after a few minutes. But…strangely enough…I couldn’t read him for the life of me. He gave nothing away which piqued my curiosity. After all, who was this strange man? What was he doing here? What were his intentions with my mother? And why can’t I read him like I can with everyone else? After what seemed like an awkward forever of sizing each other up my mom Introduced us. We exchanged names. He said that his name was Michael Timothy Mulleney jr. My mom said she was going to the store real quick and she left me alone with him to babysit me. I approached him with cautious optimism. He just felt different from the others that mom brought home. We made small talk to get to know each other and we used to have a lot in common. We both liked video games and disney and other things. I took an instant liking to him and that happened with no adult family or not especially males in particular. He was different. He was unlike anyone I ever met. I was naive and didn’t know any better back then. My mom finally came home and she found me curled up on his lap, napping to Peter Pan. Which is why I will forever love Peter Pan because it was the first thing he introduced me to and overall it just reminds me of a better time in my childhood when I was happy and I had my dad/best friend back then. I think she was honestly surprised to find out that I hadn’t chased him out of the house. So she took that as a sign to bring him around more often and to keep him.

     He came around more often after that. We were a handful to each other. I was used to adults neglecting me. So I was used to having to do everything myself and I never really asked for help. I wasn’t used to having to be taken care of and asking for permission to have stuff. So there were fights over that. Which was really frustrating to me because he requested a two hour nap every time he came over first. He had a weird sleep schedule. He’s a night owl. So I had to keep myself occupied and wait for him to wake up. If I was hungry then I was hungry and I wasn’t going to wait for him. Ain’t no one has the time for that. Eventually we established a boundary and compromised. If I waited for him to wake up then I could still have my freedom of doing things myself as long as I was supervised. He’d let me do whatever since I’ve shown him that I could take care of myself as long as he stood in whatever doorway to the room of whatever activity I was doing to make sure I didn’t hurt myself or break anything and to periodically check up on me. 

       I was also not used to rules and consequences and routine. Since I was loosely taken care of, meaning that I was fed, showered, went to school, and not dead. Adults wanted nothing to do with me and my mother was always too busy to establish any rules or consequences. If she did it wasn’t consistent so I just did whatever I wanted for the most part. My life was nothing but chaos with the amount of people coming and going. My step dad was the first to establish rules and consequences which resulted in a lot of time outs and early bedtimes. He never used to hit me or abuse me verbally, emotionally or mentally. Eventually I learned to follow the rules and we established a routine. It was nap time for him when he first walked through the door and I had a few hours to keep myself occupied while I waited for him to wake up. When he did wake up we would do whatever together, I got as many snacks that I wanted, we played with my stuffed animals, play-wrestled with each other, we would color, watch tv, sometimes he would take me to the park and play with me since other kids wouldn’t. Around 6pm it was dinner time I had whatever my mom left for me in the fridge. Or I had spaghettios. After that it was shower time, then I picked up my toys, then I would watch family guy with him (My mom didn’t really care what I watched back then as long as it wasn’t pornography). Then it was bedtime. 

      You see before he met my mom. He recently came out of a 12 year relationship with his ex girlfriend. And he has two other kids. His oldest came to us by accident later on in my life and I became the middle child. Anyways, She cut off all contact with him in his kids so he couldn’t see them and take care of them anymore. Since he was free now he became more reckless since he really wasn’t tied down anywhere anymore and he had nothing to lose. In a sense I was his redemption as a parent and as he spent more time with my mom and I the less reckless he became. He settled down because it was like ‘oh shit there’s a kid involved here I can’t do that anymore’. 

      During those times where he would come over he’d teach me a lot of life skills. He taught me how to pick up after myself. He taught me self defense and how to fight a little, just in case I ever found myself in trouble and there was no other option. Heh… who knew that would pay off during my years at Rosewood and in my life now. The moves and stances are the foundation of my fighting style which is more on the defensive side. He taught me how to cook basic meals, hard boiled eggs, ramen, mac and cheese, and spaghetti. Which he helped me discover my passion for cooking. I had a job in a restaurant working in the kitchen before I quit because of my left hand. He taught me how to read and write. Which he helped me discover my passion for reading and writing. I was always writing stories with my limited vocabulary and I would pull all nighters discreetly finishing my masterpieces. I am the picasso of literature. More importantly he was someone that I could talk to. I never had anyone to do that with save for Autumn later on. I told him everything and anything and he told me everything and anything. Well what was appropriate for a four year old to know. He told me stories about his life from when he was a kid. He was the first person to step up and be the father figure and raise me when my own mother and family wouldn’t. I owe him indefinitely and despite all the abuse and shit he put me through I can never hate him fully. That year and a half of my life was one of the happiest years of my childhood. I thought it would last forever. 

      I mentioned before that I could see the paranormal. At first it was just tall lanky shadowy figures of various sizes. I never figured out what they were really called so I just called them what I saw them as. Tall, lanky shadowy figures I didn’t think too much of them since all they did was just watch and they weren’t causing me harm. I just went with the flow. Sometimes they would come to me other times they would not. It was a hit or miss. On the times that the shadowy figures would show up I would talk about my day, what was bothering me, or just what was on my mind at the time with my limited four year old vocabulary. I was young and lonely and I did not understand the concept of filtering and giving out too much information.  As I got older the shadowy figures’s visit became less and less frequent. Occasionally they would show up and I would give them a nod in acknowledgement and have a conversation with them. I used to believe that that would be the extent of my abilities.

     But one night it became so much more than that.

     It started out as any average day in my life.It was cloudy. I woke up, ate, showered, and kept myself occupied by watching some movies or playing with my toys. But the entire day just felt off… Like you know how cats and dogs can tell if there’s a thunderstorm coming and the act all weird? It was like that for me. There was an ominous feel in the air like something bad was going to happen. I just didn’t know what at the time. At first I thought something bad was going to happen to my mom. So I begged her not to go into work that day but she brushed me off and told me not to worry about her and that she would be fine. She didn’t listen to me like usual. 

      Now despite my mom still having strangers in the house she realized that none of them were going to babysit me finally. Even my step dad wasn’t around the whole time. And it was one of those days where he couldn’t babysit me. So I was bounced around from babysitter to babysitter. Sometimes it was other family members other times it was just whatever my mom could find to hire. I never lasted a week with any of them. With other family members it was because I interrupted their lives and they saw me as extra baggage and didn’t want anything to do with me. They always found some sort of excuse to return me back early to my mom. So it was nice to know that I wasn’t wanted by my own biological family. As for the strangers that my mom hired I just simply didn’t like them. I gave them as much as a hard time that I could. They lacked common human decency and respect. They knew nothing of the routines in my household when I did. They told me that no that’s not it. Like? Bitch I live here you don’t. What do you know about my life in my household? My thing was don’t tell me what to do when you don’t know dick about shit about my household. This is what started my severe hatred for adults. 

      Anyways, this time my babysitter was a stranger that my mom managed to hire. A fifteen year old blonde petite girl by the name of Maggie Hemmington. At the time I thought she was an adult but then again anyone older than 10 is an adult to you when you’re four years old. She wore stuff that expressed she was into the occult stuff. When she came over that day the feeling of something bad was going to happen jumped to 1000. I became more insistent and screaming, crying and begging my mom to not leave me alone with her. But again my mom brushed me off and tried to reassure me the best she could. In the end she left for work and me alone with that bitch. The day was awful with lots of fights and screaming at each other. She was just an awful person; she didn’t even do her job. I still had to go and take care of myself. Eventually she made me go to bed early saying that she was going to have friends over and she didn’t want a brat like me to get in the way. Which she wasn’t supposed to have friends over to begin with but after the day I had I was more than happy to oblige. The quicker I went to sleep, the quicker I could wake up and have it be the next day. So like the good kid I once was I went up to my room and surprisingly I actually fell asleep naturally.

    It was around midnight or so I would like to believe. I honestly don’t remember much of what happened that night. I only remember what I remember due to months of pushing through the painful headaches and flashbacks that have accompanied me ever since. I don’t remember the full story so I’m probably missing a few parts but I remember enough to piece together a semi complete story. 

    Anyways I believe it was midnight or so. I remember waking up to Maggie and her friends screaming. I was scared and confused as to what was happening. Hindsight is 20/20 I probably should have just stayed in bed. Although to be honest I don’t think that this night wouldn’t have ended differently even if I did just stay in bed. And in all actuality I didn’t hate her or any of her friends for that matter. At least, not enough to leave them to their deaths. What if they were in trouble? I was the only there that could do anything. If i didn’t that would make me a coward and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. What if they were dead? Then what? If I did go down there and saw what I saw if they were dead how would I explain what I saw to the police? To my mom? All these questions and choices ran through my head. However, my pride and what little compassion that I had got in the way. I didn’t raise myself to be a coward and i wasn’t going to start then and they sounded like they were in trouble. They needed me. So I made the choice to sneak downstairs to see what was up and figure it out from there. The apartment itself was quite old so the staircase was creaky. However, there were spots that weren’t creaky, I knew where they were. Going down the stairs was like doing an intricate dance to avoid the creaky spots. I crouched down halfway down the staircase. The apartment had dim lighting as it was so there were lots of shadows all over the place. I was wearing a black nightshirt and I was tan  and small enough to hide in the shadows. I looked through the bars of the stairs and I saw Maggie and her friends huddled together with the look of absolute fear in their eyes staring straight ahead and a ouija board in front of them. I couldn’t see what they were seeing at the time. But I could feel a dark and powerful aura that was around. It was uncomfortable and overwhelming. It was almost suffocating. The…entity…as I called it because I didn’t know what it was since I couldn’t see it but I could feel it and hear it. All that I knew was that it was a malicious entity. It kept coming closer to where I was hiding. I crouched down more to make myself appear smaller. But the entity snatched me up and as far as I knew I was levitating in thin air. The entity had a suffocating grip on me. I don’t remember much because Maggie, her friends and I were too busy screaming, crying, and I was trying to fight my way out. I even tried to bite the entity but that only resulted in it tightening its grip on me even more. Maggie was trying to negotiate a different price for summoning the entity, Since it said that it required a sacrifice as a price for summoning it. And well…I was it. After hours of screaming, crying and negotiating they came to a compromise. What that compromise was I have no idea to this day. But all I remember is a pressure on my forehead and just a flood of painful life truths and knowledge on more paranormal creatures and how to deal with them. I was screaming and crying in pain and agony. It was too much all at once and I felt like my head was going to explode. The night seemed to go on for forever to me…I thought that it would never end. Until it did. After the entity was done I blacked out I can’t tell you what happened after even if I tried. This is why to this day I don’t fuck with horror movies, witchcraft, and ouija boards. I don’t go actively looking for stuff that I don’t understand what I’m dealing with.

      The next morning I woke up back in my room in my own bed. I had a painful headache in the center of my forehead, like the equivalent of a really bad hangover. I was really confused as to what happened last night. I knew something happened, I just didn’t know what. That is until the painful knowledge that I received last night came flowing back like a flood. I was crying and screaming in agony until the flashbacks subsided. My mom came running in to see what was wrong. She asked me what was wrong. But I couldn’t tell her the truth of what really happened last night. She wouldn’t have believed me anyways. Instead I just cuddled up to her and held onto her tight and just cried until I ran out of tears and was reduced to a sniffling, hiccupping mess. I just suffered in silence while my mom rubbed my back and petted my hair. 

     The next three months was a bitch to deal with. I was a mess. I still did what I needed to do. I went to preschool although I was more antisocial than usual and I was more jumpy. I was just more of a broken quiet, my wide hazel eyes had a haunted look to them on top of them being slightly sunken back and I had dark circles under them, I wasn’t sleeping much during those three months. I was an awful sight. I was almost sickly skinny, I wasn’t eating much for those three months as well. It was evident that I was a shell of my former self. After preschool, I ate the bare minimum to stay alive and to shower when I had the energy to do so. I didn’t want to be out of my room longer than I had to. I was afraid the entity would come back for me. The rest of the time I laid in bed with my covers pulled up, staring at the wall or ceiling for hours on end just empty headed and crying when the flashbacks and nightmares occurred. The worst part was that I was alone. Mom was either working or sleeping and she knew that my trauma had to do with Maggie so my mom stopped with the babysitters and just left me alone. She wasn’t supposed to but she didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t tell my step dad about what happened. And I used to tell this man everything and anything. Back then we didn’t have secrets with each other. But I couldn’t tell him…this. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him. The only ones that I told were my friends when they gained enough trust. So I kept it to myself. My step dad didn’t push me back then. He knew when to back off and respect my boundaries. He dropped it when I didn’t want to talk about it. He knew something happened to me but didn’t know what. He checked up on me when he was there to make sure I was okay and got a little bit of something to eat. 

     A month has passed and my step dad had enough of me being bed ridden. He gave me this piece of advice that I live by to this day. He sat on my bed and rubbed my back. It was a particularly bad day. The flashbacks and headaches were non stop and sleep was non existent. He was saying how he could tell that I was scared and he hated seeing me like this everyday. He also said that he knew that I wasn’t a coward and he knew a way to help me face any fear that I would have. That caught my attention so I sat up a little to pay better attention. He told me this: The more you know the less you have anything to be afraid of. After all you can’t be afraid of something if you know what that thing is. He left me alone after that and it was something to think about. 

      I gave myself a week to think about it. By Friday I decided that I had enough. I didn’t want to be stuck in bed. I was tired of the constant flashbacks and headaches. I was tired of living in fear. It’s not a fun way to live as I would discover that realization again later on in my life, and guess what? That night when I made my decision to start not being afraid anymore was the first night that sleep overcame me with no flashbacks and headaches the following day. I guess as I started to make peace with what I was about to do had something to do with that too.

      The next day before my mom left for work and my step dad came over to babysit me I told them my decision and asked if I could go to the library. I figured that the first step to not being afraid is getting everything on that subject. My mom agreed and left her library card for us to use (I didn’t get my own until I was six). I think my mom was just relieved that I wasn’t going to be bedridden anymore and that I was actually going out to get some fresh air. After my mom left, I grabbed  my black backpack that he gave me and we went to the library. I got every book I could on the supernatural and how to deal with them. I definitely got some confused and concerned looks from the librarians and my step dad. I ignored the librarians and my step dad didn’t push it. I assumed that he picked up on the type of books that I was getting and figured out what I was scared of but he was more than willing to help me conquer my fears. We checked them out and we had a month with them before we had to return them. My backpack was so filled that it made me look like an oversized turtle. I wasn’t a good reader back then mainly due to reading comprehension. It wasn’t my strong suit back then. But I was one hell of a writer. So even though he was confused on the subjects that I picked, he helped out with reading the books and helped me take down notes. The more I understood the less I was becoming less and less afraid.

      The next step to me for not being afraid was getting the full story on what happened that night. To tell you the truth I honestly didn’t really remember what happened exactly. I remember bits and pieces of what happened due to flashbacks and memories but not in order. and I don’t remember what happened after I blacked out.My thought process was that I can finally understand and not be afraid anymore if I learned the truth of what really happened. Despite me staying out of my room more and more I still spent an equal amount of time there. I would deliberately sit myself down and go through that day’s events, walking myself through step by step. It wasn’t until I got to the part where I was snatched and then the flashbacks would come back intensely. But nevertheless I pushed through. I would always have a violent headache after each and every session. Literally my diet consisted of whatever I ate and children’s tylenol. It wasn’t easy and there were days where I stepped back from the progress that I made but little by little I got to piece together as much of a complete story that I could. 

      Over time the flashbacks and headaches became less and less frequent as I got older. Occasionally nowadays I would get the nightmare of that event which would always be followed by a headache in the center of my forehead the next morning. But I would just take some ibuprofen and be on my way. They don’t happen as much anymore like they used to. Over time I became less and less afraid and I became well more normal after that. Well as normal as I could get after an event like that. I was happy more often. I had my dad/best friend. I pushed boundaries, I got time outs and early bedtimes. I played with my toys and with him and I went to preschool and I ate a lot and regularly more often. I was doing fine. I was getting better.

    Then my step dad left us. I was five at the time.

    He left us for two years. Turns out he went to prison for breaking and entering an abandoned building while he was drunk looking for a place to sleep for the night. The day I found out I was hurt, confused, lonely, and pissed. I was confused because why did he leave us all of a sudden? Where was he? Was he okay? Would we be able to see him again? I was hurt because I had all of these questions running through my head. Did he not love us anymore? Did he even love us at all? Was I a bad kid and that’s why he left us? Was I too much to handle and so he said fuck it and left? Was my mom not good enough? Were we not good enough for him? Then I was pissed because how dare he leave us? Us of all people? We didn’t do anything wrong to deserve this and he had the audacity to leave us! I was also pissed at myself more than anything. My intuition was wrong about him. My intuition was rarely wrong about anything in my life. Although I couldn’t read him at first he proved himself to be different than the rest of the people my mom brought home. He stayed for a year. That’s the longest anyone has ever stayed in my life at the time. He actually stayed and didn’t run away from his responsibilities. He was the first person to take me in and raise me when my own mother and biological family wouldn’t. I thought that he was different….I was wrong obviously but I didn’t realize just how wrong I was until later on in life.

     I never felt more alone since that day. There were only two other times but nothing would compare to that day when he left. 

    This is the reason why I have severe trust issues.

    It was downhill after that. Mom lost her job and the apartment so we bounced from motel to motel. Mom was either busy sleeping or looking for jobs. I don’t blame her, it was tiring for her to be looking for jobs for 8 hours a day. So she needed the sleep. Although the rare times she was up she did spend time with me and we would watch tv together. Other times I had to take care of myself and my mom. So I kept myself entertained and my mom barely had enough money for the week to stay let alone for food more times than not. In every motel that we’ve been to there was also a convenience store. Some were nice and were understanding of my home situation so they would let me pick out two things to eat for free. One for me and one for my mom once a day. They were nice. Other store employees weren’t so nice and understanding. But my mom and I had to eat so I learned to lie and steal from them. We had to survive and eat and I was willing to do that by any means necessary. The worst part is that instead of stopping and only doing it when I needed to. I got better at it and I became more clever. I absolutely hated stealing from the store that was nice to me but desperate times called for desperate measures and I wasn’t even sorry for it.

     School wasn’t any easier for me. The only things I was good at was everything else but math and gym. I was also good at being a teacher’s pet. It was the only way I could survive at school and I really was a good kid once upon a time and that’s how I got away with mostly everything at school from kindergarten through 11th grade. 

    That’s when the bullying started for the first time. They made fun of me for being homeless and not being good at math and not being strong enough for gym class. I didn’t know exactly how to deal with it at first since I wasn’t good at social situations. At first I ignored them or shot back an even worse insult to them for k-4. 

    Eventually my mom got a job at a restaurant making sandwiches and we eventually got our own apartment again.I was seven at the time. It was decent about the size of a single wide trailer, three bedrooms and all for $725 a month. It was on the poor side of Maplehood Creek. So there was a lot of crime and drug deals but beggars can’t be choosers. We settled into a routine very quickly. Mom went to work and I went to school and business as usual. We never really saw each other often. However, it was a nice change to have some form of stability instead of stealing and lying to survive and the uncertainty of it working. 

    The best part? My step dad came back to us. However, when he did come back he….changed…..He was always the stoic, tough love type but…this was different. I get the people change over the years, especially after a few years of being away from people. But not like this. Looking back on it he came back more distant….and more cold and calculating…. But I didn’t care at the time. I was just happy and excited to have my dad/ best friend back. No more lonely days, no more fear, no more sadness, like all of the hurt, anger, confusion, loneliness, and sadness for the last two years just melted away…. I was just so desperate that I overlooked the warning signs. But anyways, I ran up to hug him as soon as he came back through the door for the first time in two years. I hugged him like my life depended on it, as if I let go he would walk out again. But he didn’t hug me back like he normally would. I just chalked it up to the fact that he probably needed time to adjust. Which was fine. That’s understandable. I figured that after he got used to us again we could go back to being a family once again. Like the good old days but perhaps this time with something better.

    BUT BOY WAS I WRONG….LIKE 180 DEGREES WRONG……I WAS SO VERY, VERY WRONG!!!

    The abuse started light…at first it was just cutting words and biting remarks….He didn’t start hitting me until I was nine. I really didn’t think anything of it. I often do things to get those comments. I fucked up a lot of things that I was supposed to do that I really shouldn’t have fucked up to begin with. It hurt what he said to me but I just thought it was his new form of discipline. I always thought the point of discipline was that it was supposed to hurt so that you don’t do the bad thing again. It wasn’t anything bad at first. Just normal stuff, he would always call me “stupid”, “worthless”, “Useless” “I’m a burden and that no one wants me” The works. I put up with it because I was desperate to get my best friend back. I thought that if I showed that I was strong enough to take whatever he threw my way then it would show how loyal and worthy I was of being back into his good graces again.

    School was beginning to become more and more difficult. Academics was fine. I was too smart for what they were teaching. I was often ahead of my classes. I wouldn’t call myself a genius, otherwise it would have been proven earlier on in my life. I was just above average in intelligence. I would always be ahead for that week in whatever lesson they would be teaching. But the bullies….the bullies got worse….It was just superficial shit. Saying how bad I am at math even though I was good at other subjects, no one wanted to be my friend because I was mean and awkward, I was too weird…. I was only mean because I could see right through them they weren’t good people. I wanted nothing to do with them. And they started with me first. I didn’t start fights, I finished them. I remember something my step dad said to me in passing later on in life. It was an off-color remark and I don’t think he intended for me to use it in the way I did but it proved useful in every fight I’ve been in verbal and physical. He said this to me “Be more afraid of someone who can ruin your life with a press of a button than of someone who can pack a punch. Physical wounds heal mental wounds don’t. Be vicious with your attacks and go for the throat. Hit where it would hurt the most”. And I still live by that. I’ve made people run away crying from my words. Don’t start with me and I won’t start with you. Plain and simple. As for my weirdness. Well, I was more reserved and quiet. I was antisocial and due to my step dad I had increased hostility and ‘behavioral issues’. But I guess I’ve also had my personal darkness following me around. Always just barely below the surface. I guess it created an unsettling aura around me that always made others uncomfortable. Oh well.

     Nine is when things turned up a notch for the first time. Lot’s of things happened. I was in 4th grade. Adam was born, I got into my first fist fight, the abuse became worse at home, and I made my first important choice that would change my life forever. 

    But one thing at a time. Let’s start with the birth of my little brother Adam.

    I was nine years old. It was October 3. 2011. Adam was born. His full name is Adam Mitchell Mulleney. I always wanted a sibling, someone I could protect and take care of and teach. Preferably a sister, but beggars can’t be choosers.  The moment I held him was the moment I knew I had to protect him. From what? I don’t know. But anyways my step dad doesn;t do babies. So he didn’t even help take care of him. Mom wasn’t the strongest mentally speaking so she wasn’t fit to take care of him. So I did, mostly. I was more of his mother than his big sister at the time. We went to a daycare so that helped me out a lot. But mainly I took care of him for the first three years of his life on top of school, and the increasing abuse from my step dad. He was saying recently back then how I was a bad influence to everyone I met and how much of a monster I was. How I was incapable of making good decisions, always. But back then I didn’t believe him. God, I miss the self confidence I used to have. Before life and reality kept giving me brutal beatings and I just gave up. But I didn’t believe him at the time because Adam proved otherwise. I mean how could I be a bad person when I was keeping Adam alive, healthy and happy? It didn’t make sense to me. I was there for the formative years. I taught him almost everything I know. At least enough for a toddler to understand. It was enough hopefully for him to have the basics of survival for when I couldn’t be with him anymore when I left for my new life. I did the best I could as a 9-12 year old pseudo mother. 

     As Adam got to be older he quickly became the family favorite. My step dad treated him like the golden child like he could do no wrong. He gave Adam the love and affection that I used to get. But yet he treated me like shit. So you can imagine the growing animosity I had towards my family and life. And unfortunately, after I was done taking care of him and my parents finally took over and did their actual jobs for once I grew to hate Adam more and more for a while until I got older and I realized a few things. But that’s later on in the story.

    Like I said before, the abuse from my step dad got worse. I remember the very first time he hit me. When I was nine I got my first chore other than cleaning my room. It was dishes. At first I was excited about it because it was like “finally I’m a big kid now!” But I wasn’t good at it for the first three days. I have sensory and vision issues so I can’t feel or see the dead food on the plates sometimes but I really did try my best. My step dad got fed up with me after the third day of me doing dishes. He got so angry at me that he broke one of the dirty dishes on the floor and then moved with the speed of a viper. He smacked me across the face so hard that you could hear the crack that came with it. My face turned so fast I swear that I almost broke my neck. The force behind was so strong that I fell into the pile of broken ceramic and I could hear ringing in my ears. He yelled at me saying I’m a useless child and that I can’t do anything right and that I’m stupid because I can’t do a simple dish right. He then stormed off and hid in his bedroom for a while. I just sat there in shock. It was a good couple of minutes before the stinging, and ringing died down and before I could turn my head. I’m pretty sure he left a red mark and I just cried silently. I was just so confused as to why he would hurt me. He’s never done so before…But I quickly justified it as I deserved it. He doesn’t do shit for no reason he always has a reason for the shit he does even if he never told me. If I hadn’t fuck up something so easy like dishes I wouldn’t have gotten smacked that day. I cleaned up the broken pieces of the plate and cleaned up myself from the cuts I got and I just went on with my day.

    There were always incidents like that. I’d fuck something up whether it’s completely wrong or not up to his god like standards, I’d get smacked. Whether it was across my face or upside the head. Or sometimes he would pin me to the ground or to the wall by my neck if I even tried to defend myself with words of course. I never once tried to fight him that would ensure my death. I was always all about survival. I only fought fights that I knew I would most likely win or if I felt strongly for that cause. 

    My mom was always at work for the most part. She would come home later in the night when Adam and I were asleep. On her days off she either slept, or she took Adam and I on errands. It was her form of quality time with us. Sometimes if the incidents took place while she was home she would ignore it, only focusing on Adam to keep him sheltering him from the fucked upness of the situation and just let my step dad and I figure it out. But yet failing to protect me. Although I understood why she would protect him more than me. Because I would do the same too. He’s younger, he has more of his entire life ahead of him. I don’t need him to be fucked up and ruin his chances of living a happy, normal life. I’ll be damned if someone were to take that away from him. Although sometimes my mom would actually do her job as a parent and step in to protect me by arguing with him. But that always fails because she gets meek and worn down from his relentless arguing. Gradually she stopped doing that as well. He never hit my mom or Adam or Michael when he came into my life later on. It was just me. I used to believe that if I left then he would take out his anger on my mom and Adams and use them as scapegoats. I thought I was protecting them so I still stayed. But I was quickly proven wrong about my belief as I realized that he just had it out for me.

   School was getting increasingly worse. On top of the abuse I recieved at home which made me more vicious and hostile and according to my teachers I had “increasing behavioral problems” the bullying was getting worse too. The kids kept telling me how useless and worthless I was. How weird I was, how nobody liked me. I didn’t mind it coming from my step dad because I was getting used to it and a scrawny nine year old can’t fight a grown man who’s twice to three times her size. I’m normally able to separate business from personal. Home was personal, school was business for me. That’s how I survived for so long, especially when I went to Rosewood Preparatory school later on in the story. I was always able to fight two battles on two different fronts. One at school and the other at home. If I was at school I shut off the war at home and focused my energy on surviving the day. If I was at home I shut off the war at school and focus my energy on surviving another night at home just to repeat the cycle all over again the next day. Keep on fighting in the meantime. 

    Anyways, school was supposed to be a break from my stepdad to me. Just enough of a reprieve to help me survive. And I wasn’t getting that with the kids repeating the things my step dad told me. I had enough.

    One day while I was in math class in the fourth grade. I had Mr. Williamson at Maplehood Creek Elementary School. I sat in front of Alan Washburn. He was one of my many bullies but he and Nikola Whilems were my main ones at Maplehood. Mr. Williamson wasn’t paying attention, he had his back turned to the smartboard teaching the rest of the class long division at the time. I was minding my own business and was actually trying to learn the lesson. Math wasn’t my strong suit and he and Nikola always picked on me because of it amongst the other things they picked on me about. Alan got the brilliant idea to pull me by the back of my ponytail so my head was bent over backwards and his face was upside down in my perspective. He told me “How does it feel to be the retard in the class?” with that cocky, annoying, arrogant smirk, and then pushed my head with enough force to make the front of my head hit my desk. I let out an audible “ow” and everyone turned to look at me including Mr. Williamson. I sat up and pretended like nothing happened. Everyone went back to what they were doing. I heard Alan and Nikola snicker and that;s when I lost it and that’s how I got into my first fist fight. I turned around in my desk to face Alan, balled my hand into a fist and I just decked him square in the face as hard as I could and I broke his nose. It hurt like hell for the both of us but seeing the look of fear on his face after I punched him was so satisfying to me. Then I leaped over my desk and tackled him to the ground. Back then I didn’t know how to fight as well as I do now. I only knew the basics from my step dad and it was the first fight I ever got into. I just sat on his chest and bitch slapped him until his face was red and started crying like the little bitch that he was. I screamed at him to “say that you’re sorry and say it like you mean it!”. The other kids surrounded us. Some looked at us in awe, some looked at us in shock and some looked at us in fear. Mr. Williamson had to pull me off of him. I was breathing heavily, ears burning and rash like from anger and Alan scurried into a corner of the classroom whimpering and in a protective position. I made direct eye contact with Nikola and he looked so pale and afraid of me. In all honesty I felt relieved and accomplished. It was nice to distribute retribution and to finally have power over them. On that day I asked myself why didn’t I do that sooner?

    Unfortunately Maplehood Creek Elementary School has a zero tolerance for violence, so I was sent to the principal’s office for the day. The punishment for a violent physical fight was expulsion. Yeah, they were really strict about that. My mom didn’t come to get me until school was out for the day at 3:30pm since that’s when she got out of work that day. My mom  and my principal Mrs. McCaulen had a conversation about what would be the most efficient course of action for me. I was getting expelled, there was no getting out of that. But expulsion was for a year at Maplehood  and then I could try again. Neither one of them wanted me to be behind in my school work and since I was too smart of the school work anyways for the most part they felt bad and didn’t want to waste any of my potential intelligence. So, They gave me two choices. One, I could do homeschooling for the rest of the school year and then come back next school year. Or, Mrs. McCaulen said that she knew some higher ups at a place called Rosewood Preparatory School and could pull some strings to get me in after Christmas break since it was December at the time. I would switch schools after Christmas break and I would finish schooling there. She explained to me that Rosewood was a prestigious private school in the downtown area where the rich people lived. It was a k-12 school. It was a place where the rich, problematic and intelligent people got better and got a good education. You have to wear a uniform and meet certain qualifications to get in. But since I was highly intelligent and definitely had enough issues to spare. Mrs. McCaulen was certain that I could get in. She also added that after I graduated I could get into just about any esteemed college since Rosewood was a prestigious school itself. That sounded promising to me since I already knew that I didn’t want to be in Maplehood all my life and be stuck with my family forever. Once upon a time I actually had high hope and a bright outlook on my future. I didn’t want to do homeschooling because the only one that was home all the time was my step dad since he was a stay at home dad. Mom worked almost all the time to provide everything for the house and us. My step dad is a good teacher when he’s not being an abusive, manipulative, arrogant prick. However, If I chose homeschooling I knew that my step dad wouldn’t let me go back the next school year and keep me locked up in the apartment forever or until he dies. Not only that but once again school was the only break I ever got from him. It’s how I survived for so long. I was not going to have that be taken away from me. So in the end I chose Rosewood, not knowing what I’d get myself into. They discussed the option of a dormitory since Rosewood also had a boarding section. Mom decided that it would be easy if I just came home at the end of the day. Which I was thankful for later on.

   Of course my mom told my step dad about what happened. I was expecting him to beat the shit out of me and to yell at me. But instead he asked me for my side of the story. Which was out of character for him but nevertheless I was happy to give my side of the story in hopes that maybe I would get punished less. I told him how Alan (and he knew about my bullies) how he grabbed my hair and called me a retard and smacked my head on my desk. So I retaliated and I punched him the face and then I jumped over my desk and I sat on top of him and I bitch slapped him and screamed at him to apologize. I used the excuse that it was self defense and also used the philosophy that he taught me. If you do something bad then expect the worst possible outcome. Which I delivered. He then asked me if I won the fight. To which I said that I thought so since I gave him a bloody nose and made him cry like the little bitch he was. My step dad nodded thoughtfully and stayed silent for a few minutes. I braced myself for whatever backlash I was about to receive. He then patted my head and told me he was proud of me. Now THAT was something I hadn’t heard in a long time. It felt good. I then told him that they expelled me and I had a choice between homeschooling and a place called Rosewood Preparatory School. I chose Rosewood. And that’s when he went back to his asshole self. He told me that Rosewood was a place to stuff severely mentally disturbed children that their parents wanted nothing to do with anymore. I’m talking about mentally disturbed kids that need to to be in an insane asylum and actually get professional help.that they so desperately needed. He told me that I wouldn’t survive there. I didn’t believe him at the time because I thought that he was fear mongering me like he normally does when he tries to get control over me. I thought he was trying to scare me into homeschooling so he could gain more control over me. So, using the other philosophy he taught me. I made my choice and I will stick by it through the bitter fucking consequences. I will go down with the ship. I still stuck to my guns and I was adamant about going to Rosewood. Anything to get away from him. 

       It was January 7th. It was after Christmas break and time to go back to school. For me it was my very first day at this Rosewood Prep. I wore my new school uniform which was a white long sleeve shirt and tan khakis with a black belt. I had a choice between the standard red and black plaid skirt and tan and black khakis for the girl’s uniforms. I didn’t and still don’t like girly things, there’s just so many prying prepubescent lemur boys out there you know? So I chose pants all the way. The one good thing about Rosewood is that they are more lenient about their school uniforms than most private preparatory schools. We could wear whatever hoodie/ sweatshirt we wanted over our uniform as long as we could prove that we had the standard white tee/ long sleeve shirt, red and black plaid skirt, tan or black khakis on. We could wear whatever socks and shoes that we wanted. It was nice to have some sort of independence and individualism in that place. I ended up walking to school since we lived closer to the downtown area than to Maplehood Creek Elementary School. So I didn’t meet the requirements for the school bus system. Nevertheless I was so ready for what little independence that I would get.Rosewood Prep is a big school. It was right across from The real estate office building called Camelson’s Realtors. Rosewood had a black wrought iron gate with an archway that stated the School’s name in cursive. Rosewood had a lot of property and it was covered in snow. Not even half of it was trampled on yet. The kids were spread out in various places. We had the younger kids k-3 playing in the snow together closer to the entrance, 4th and 5th graders were huddling together for warmth near the school doorways, 6-8 were all gossiping with each other on the left lawn and 9-12 graders were behind the school doing god knows what. The school itself was made out of bricks and was part of it was covered in ivy. It looked like one of those uppity schools that you read in books and see on tv where those schools are mysterious and hold deep, dark, sinister secrets.The main building was 7 stories high. One floor for the lobby, principal’s office, tech support, cafeteria, kitchen and gym was. That was the first floor when you got into the school. Basement level is underneath the entire school but you could only get to it through secret passageways throughout the school and on school property. Second floor was for the kindergartners with their own art and music rooms. Third floor was for the first grade, fourth floor was for second grade, fifth floor was for third grade, sixth floor was for fourth grade, and the seventh floor was for the fifth grade. The second building attached to the main one on the right had three stories. First floor was for sixth grade, the second floor was for seventh grade and the third floor was for eighth grade. There was a third building attached to the main one on the left that had four floors. First floor was for ninth grade, second floor was for tenth grade, third floor was for eleventh grade, and the fourth floor was for the twelfth grade. There was a building in the back that was like fifty feet from the school that I assumed was the boarding section. They also had three playgrounds in the back. They also had a sports shed with a neon orange roof over on the far right of the school. There were also a lot of spirits roaming about the school property, some staff members others were children as young as five- eighteen. 

   The school also had a brick interior and red and white tiles on the floor. My school day started like any other day. I had  breakfast, and I went to my main teacher’s room for the majority of my classes. Her name was Mrs. Lameire. Out of all my time at Rosewood She was the nicest teacher I ever had. The majority of teachers there were cruel and ruthless. Rich kids were always the favorites. Anyone with grades lower than a C, people that were too mentally disturbed to the point of causing disruptions in the class, people that were late to class for even a minute, and just because were met with cruel and unusual punishments. Kids were locked in the rundown gym bathrooms during their hallucinations. I remember hearing about this one girl in the boarding section getting locked in the sports shed in the damp cold being starved and forced to lick up the water that was given to her on the ground. All because the staff wasn’t feeding one of her friends so she stole some food before it was made in the kitchen to give to her. Thankfully her friend got to eat before she got caught. Turns out Mrs. Lameire was a rare one. Towards the end of fourth grade she actually got out of Rosewood and got a new teaching job at Greengrove High for the seniors in English. That’s not something a lot of teachers and unfortunately a lot of students could say. A decent handful of teachers were former students at Rosewood, K-12 and lived in the boarding section all their school life only to finally leave for college and get out of that wretched place only to come back and be stuck at Rosewood once more. Unfortunately a lot of the students would share the same fate. I feel bad for the younger kids who live at the school too. It’s all they’re going to know. We have this saying in Maplehood for the people of Rosewood with a darker meaning. “You may leave Rosewood but Rosewood will never leave you. After all, all paths will eventually lead back to Rosewood”…..

      It didn’t get interesting until after lunch. Just on my first day I witnessed seven fist fights, this was all at Lunch. At my old school a lot of kids would have gotten expelled that day. What I found strange was that these weren’t just school fights….these were…almost fights to the death. These were brutal. I saw one kid almost die because he got beaten into a bloody pulp. Luckily he turned tail and fled to the nurses office. I also found it weird that there were no teachers to pull the fighting kids apart. They either turned the other cheek, cheered them on or made bets on who would win under the table. It really was survival of the fittest here. The last fight of the day was heading towards me. I felt my arm being pulled out of the way and I was out of the direction of the fight. I looked next to me. There was a strange boy with short black hair and a darker tan complexion than me and brown eyes.

    “Thank you”, I said.

    “No problem”, said the strange boy who pulled me away.

    We stayed silent for what seemed like forever before the strange boy spoke again.

    “My name is Horacio Galloway”, said the strange boy finally introducing himself

    “Tabby Anderson”, I said slowly, suspicious of this kid.

    “I’ve never seen you before, you’re new here?”

   “This kid is trying to size me up. To see what he could get away with”, I said in thought before I actually spoke. “Yeah I am”

    He nodded thoughtfully for a minute before speaking, “You know you could use someone to show you the ropes here of how things work around here. You could use a friend”.

    I just looked at him and stared into his eyes for a long time. Although I was thankful for what he did and he was right I could use a friend. Two is always better than one. But….not him. He just made me uncomfortable. He just didn’t feel like a good person. He had this dark, cold, evil aura around him. I saw major red flags with this kid. I didn’t want any part of that. If I wanted a friend I would want one to be a real and loyal friend. Someone who is trustworthy and a good person in the bigger picture. He wasn’t it.

    This time my intuition was right.

    “No”, I said.

    He looked at me like he couldn’t believe what I said. He wasn’t used to someone telling him no. “I’m sorry…did you just say no?…”  he got menacing closer to me trying to corner me.

   “So he’s controlling and manipulative. Just as I suspected”, I said in thought as I was being backed up into the corner of a wall in the cafeteria.

   “Yeah that’s right. I said no”, I still stood my ground.

   “Are you sure you want to go down this road?”, he asked threateningly as he cornered me.

   I do one of two things when I’m scared I either lie my ass off or I attack and I’m hitting. I chose the second option. Obviously this kid isn’t capable of listening to reason. So maybe he’ll get it through a punch in the face to get him to back off. I dealt with this from my step dad, there’s absolutely no way I was going to put up with that bullshit from anyone else.

    “Yeah I’m sure” I  said and I decked him square in the face.

    He staggered back a little and he looked genuinely shocked that someone would dare to hit him. Apparently he wasn’t used to anyone standing up to him and not falling for his bullshit. He was angry and he charged at me full force to attack me back. I moved out of the way so her ran smack into the wall knocking himself backwards.Other kids laughed and ooohhhed at us. He didn’t like to be humiliated. Other kids ignored us and minded their own business. Some of the teachers smirked at us and looked on with amusement, waiting to see what would happen next. Other teachers just ignored us. Either way no one stepped in. He got back up and was really in a blind rage now. He tried to attack me once more. I remember what my step dad told me when getting into a fight. Use my opponent’s momentum to my advantage since i’m so small. Use every body part you can in a fight. Never let up. If you get knocked down, get back up as fast as you can. Use all of your body weight to pin someone down in a fight. Horatio charged at me and I turned to move out of the way and I grabbed his arm. I put my right leg behind his and pivoted so I could push him into the wall face first. I made him hit his head hard. I twisted his arm behind his back, kept my leg behind his and I used my entire body weight to keep him pinned against the wall.

    “Look, get this and get this now. I am not afraid of you. You can not manipulate me or control me. I’m not the one who can be broken or controlled. Understand?”

    After a few moments I let him go. He dropped to the floor and I backed away breathing heavily. It took all of my strength to do that. He got back up and he glared at me as he walked away. That was the first time I actually stood up for myself against someone who is just like my step dad. I may not have made him bleed and cry but at least I got him to turn tail and run away like the little bitch he is. For the first time in forever I actually felt surprisingly good about myself. I spent the rest of my day in a good mood.

    Until it became the end of the school day.

    I survived my first day at Rosewood.  I was getting my stuff and preparing to walk home. Until I caught sight of a ghost out of the corner of my eyes. It was a milky white mist. It was a little boy who looked deathly scared. He couldn’t have been no more than six. He had short blonde hair and glasses and was wearing the standard Rosewood uniform. A white long sleeved shirt, a black belt and tan khakis. He also looked like he was lost and confused….like he knew he was dead but he didn’t know what to do next. He made eye contact with me but you could tell that he wasn’t….all there…even before he died. The little ghost boy made eye contact with me. He then walked through the janitor’s closet that was like 10ft down the hall and disappeared. I tried to walk away but something inside of me told me to follow him. I’m not the one to ignore intuition but I knew that I wouldn’t like what I would see. I looked to make sure no one was looking and I followed.

   I went into the janitor’s closet and tried to quietly make my way through the cluttered mess of cleaning supplies. It was a quiet hallway so any unnecessary noise would have drawn attention to myself. I made my way to the back of the closet and there was a little doorway in the wall. It was slightly ajar, suggesting that it’s been used recently. I cautiously opened it up not really sure what to expect. The doorway led to a secret passageway that seemed to spiral down towards the basement level area. I head down the passageway with my bag in tote.

   I reached one of the entrances of the basement and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. I stood frozen as my freeze response took over. I saw Horatio just standing there with a kid slumped over. The kid couldn’t be no more than six and strangely enough the kid looked like the little ghost boy that I saw not that long ago. Horatio made eye contact with me and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t fight him because I didn’t think there was anything worth fighting about since the damage has been done and fighting wouldn’t bring him back and I saw no reason to go along with the situation since there was nothing to go along with, so I did the only sensible thing I could do. I ran for it. I ran straight out of there.

   I kept running and I stopped and sat down outside Rosewood’s gates and I broke down. This is what Rosewood was. I just had my first taste of Rosewood. There was violence and torture everywhere. So many mentally unhinged kids that don’t belong in that setting. Adults who enabled or ignored everything that went on instead of doing their jobs as responsible adults to protect us. This sinister place really was the top of the top survival of the fittest. If I were to stay that means that I would have to fight two wars on two different fronts. I mean, I’ve been doing that anyways but Maplehood Creek Elementary school is VERY different from Rosewood Prep. Compared to Rosewood, Maplehood Creek Elementary was a fucking daycare center. My step dad was right…there was no way that I would survive Rosewood for long….there was no way that I could survive both Rosewood AND home….so I made my decision.

   I kept running and I stopped and sat down outside Rosewood’s gates and I broke down. This is what Rosewood was. I just had my first taste of Rosewood. There was violence and torture everywhere. So many mentally unhinged kids that don’t belong in that setting. Adults who enabled or ignored everything that went on instead of doing their jobs as responsible adults to protect us. This sinister place really was the top of the top survival of the fittest. If I were to stay that means that I would have to fight two wars on two different fronts. I mean, I’ve been doing that anyways but Maplehood Creek Elementary school is VERY different from Rosewood Prep. Compared to Rosewood, Maplehood Creek Elementary was a fucking daycare center. My step dad was right…there was no way that I would survive Rosewood for long….there was no way that I could survive both Rosewood AND home….so I made my decision.

   “Hey, are you okay?”, I heard a strange voice say that sounded like whomever it was was getting closer to me.

   I looked up with my red, tear stained face to see a strange, tall, lanky, ginger girl that would become my best friend, walking towards me. She was the prettiest person that I have ever seen. She had long beautiful auburn red, pale skin that had freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and she had stormy gray eyes which I later discovered that they fluctuate between stormy gray and emerald green. I coward in my spot in a defensive, protective position because I didn’t know what she would do to me. She was also in her Rosewood uniform. She was wearing a the white tee shirt and red and black plaid skirt with her red and white converse. What was she doing here after school? She sat down next to me.

   “ Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Autumn Lemmory.  I promise I’m not like the other students here at Rosewood. I saw you sitting here and crying so I wanted to see if you were okay”, she tilted her head to the right and she had a kind and concerned voice.

  Warily I uncurled myself and was sitting like a normal person. She was so nice, like she genuinely cared. That was something I haven’t seen or had in a long time.

  “ T-Tabby Anderson and n-no I’m not o-okay”, I said between sniffles and hiccups as that’s what happens when I cry for a long time.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”, the ginger girl asked softly.

   I just looked at her and I turned into a blubbering crying mess again. I wasn’t used to this level of concern and kindness. I told her about how I was new here and that it was my first day at Rosewood. I told her about what I saw what happened to the mentally ill kids who acted out in class, the fights I saw, how I met this boy Horatio Galloway and how he threaten me when I stood up to him, I beat him in a fight, and how I just saw Horatio tourture some poor six year old boy.

   She stayed silent and listened. She held me and petted my hair for comfort. She just nodded her head and she didn’t judge me like I thought she would. In fact she didn’t even look surprised as if it was an everyday occurrence. To which I cried even more because I haven’t had this much kindness, level of concern, comfort, and affection in a long time.

   “I’m sorry you had to see that on your first day, It can be a lot for someone who isn’t used to it. But you get desensitized quick the longer you stay here. That type of stuff happens extremely often here unfortunately. There’s always someone dying here at Rosewood whether its a teacher or student”, said Autumn sadly.

   As much as I was enjoying the affection I had to pull away before I made it more awkward for the both of us.

  “You said all of that like you’ve been here for a long time. How long have you been here?”, I asked

  “A year now. I came here in the third grade”, she sighed exasperated.

  “You know and hate Horatio too?”, I asked.

  “Everyone who goes to Rosewood knows who he is. He is the richest, problematic, evil, and popular kid in school. He’s scarily smart too. Everyone hates him but they’re too scared to say or do anything about it since he can easily ruin their lives outside of Rosewood or make their lives a living hell. I’m honestly surprised that you met him on your first day. He must have taken an interest in you and you had the guts to stand up to him, fight him, and actually won”, Autumn said amazed.

  “Yeah I did. In case you haven’t noticed I’m not like other people”, I said

   Autumn laughed and it was a beautiful sound like all of my pain and troubles melted away immediately for a short time.

     “I can see that”

     She then took a good look at me, and stood up.

    “I can tell that you’re a good person and you look like you can use a friend. In fact your chances of survival would greatly increase if you had one or two people in your corner at all times. Especially if you’re dealing with Horatio and since you actually won against Horatio for now he’s especially going to have it out for you all the time. But don’t worry, he really is a coward and won’t bother you too often if you’re with a group of people. So I want you to promise me something”.

    “Hm?”

   “Promise me that you’ll come back here tomorrow and find me. I have a few people that I’d like you to meet. I’d think you’d like them and they would like you. Now come on it’s not good to be here for longer than necessary. I’ll walk you home”, she said as she gave me the exact same sweetest, kindest smile that she gave me earlier and she held out her hand as an offer to help me up.

   I gave her a good long look. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t plan on even being alive come tomorrow. However, she showed me kindness, compassion, and understanding. That’s something I haven’t had in a long time. She was the only one at first to stand by me and not against me. She actually wanted to be my friend willingly. She wanted to help and that damn smile though. It was that smile that gave me hope and suddenly I didn’t want to die as much anymore.

   “I will. I promise”, I said as I gave a small smile and I took her hand and we walked home together and for the first time in forever I had hope and something to look forward to tomorrow.

  And I always keep my promises.

  The next day I met the first people that would become the only form of a family that I have. There were four other people. Heath Yazheimer, Mitchel Brooks, Donnie SanMaria, and Rebecca Bea. Mitchel and Rebecca were the rich kids and Heath, Donnie, Autumn and I were the poor kids. I was the youngest in the group at first but I quickly became the ring leader. I mean someone had to keep their dumbasses in line. Then I became the second youngest as my family grew and by seventh grade I had my entire family. They really were the best of me.

    After a year of Rosewood my parents got tired of my telling them about the awful shit that kept happening. They didn’t believe me and they said that I was lying and being paranoid. Of course I got punished by my step dad for telling the truth. My mom however was concerned about how often they deemed that I was making this shit up. So my mom scrambled to get enough money and pay for my first psychiatrist that I had. I was ten.

  His name was Dr. Kutz. He worked at a place downtown that was red and beige called Where the Wind Blows. There were two psychiatrists that worked there. Him and a woman called Dr. Gina. Dr. Kutz worked upstairs and Dr. Gina worked downstairs.

  But anyways back to Dr. Kutz. I can honestly say that he was one of the few therapists that I actually liked. I hate therapists and Doctors in general because they can’t do their damn jobs right and do diagnoses correctly. It took seven years to get the diagnoses I have now. But anyways. He was kind, taught me how to play chess and he got the diagnoses right the first time. I was diagnosed with anxiety and paranoia which was understandable considering the shit that went on at home and Rosewood. He put me on medication for my anxiety and paranoia but I gradually stopped taking them because they made me too mellow and my mind was always fuzzy. That’s not good for surviving Rosewood where you have to be constantly alert and ready to fight at any time. I told him everything that happened at Rosewood and I can tell that he didn’t believe me and he was just listening to humor me. Still it was nice to have someone who actually listens to you for once. I told him what went on at home but I told him not to do anything about the abuse because that would affect Adam in the long run and he’s already a bright and good boy. Even at one. Everyone needs a dad. Mom wouldn’t be able to take care of him with how much she works so that would leave me to take care of him. I could barely take care of myself as it was and I was so unfit to be a mother. Although Dr. Kutz didn’t like my decision, he respected it.

   The reason why I stopped seeing him was because my mom and step dad deemed that I wasn’t getting anywhere on my so-called “issues” that my mom and step dad deemed that I had. So we moved on to therapist number two, Dr. Gina. I was eleven.

  We still went to the same place where Dr. Kutz was only staying downstairs. I didn’t like her at all. She just seemed too fake to me. She didn’t care about what I had to say and she just wanted a paycheck. She also did countless misdiagnoses. ADD, ADHD, ODD, which I didn’t have either. I have been on and off so many medications for these misdiagnoses that I didn’t need. I even developed a twitch in my left eye because of the medications that I didn’t need. It only flares up when my anxiety is sky high.

  The only “good” thing she did was call the CPS when she found out that I was getting abused by my step dad after she grilled me on it and I fucking cracked under preassure and after I begged her not to. She said that she was a mandatory reporter and that she had to.

   That didn’t go over too well for me. Unfortunately they found no substantial evidence. My step dad used the fact that I did get into a lot of fights at school which was true. I always came home with more bruises and scars and I went in with more. Eventually they dropped the case and left. He was still there. I felt bad because it was Adam’s first birthday too. So I caught hell for that and for the fact that I tried to rat him out. So not only did I get a whole lot of beatings but also sleep deprivation and corporal punishment. Those two got added on as extra punishment that year and that became a standard punishment. Lack of sleep and a brutal exercise regime with very little to no water breaks and I wasn’t even fed for that week. So yeah.

   Another incident like that happened while I was changing for gym class at Rosewood. Where the gym teacher saw a big ass bruise on the side of my rib cage and she called CPS again. And I got the SAME punishment.

  However, everything evened out eventually. I got a handle on life at Rosewood. I got good at switching on and off battles. I was established as a straight A student and I was gradually becoming a good fighter. I had my friends to help me through and we protected each other and took on shit for each other. Autumn and I had this spot at Rosewood. It was in the beginning of the woods. It was a small clearing that was well hidden so no one else at Rosewood bothered us and it wasn’t too deep in the woods where we could get lost either. It was perfect and if anything were to happen the boarding section was fifty feet from us since our spot was behind the boarding section. So we could have easily run there. We would stay after school for like 20 minutes or a couple of hours. Whatever I could swing for the day. She would patch up my scars and bruises after school when I got into a fight or after I got a beating from my step dad the next day. After that we would just talk and hang out. It was our way of taking a breather. I could really be myself around her. She basically became my human diary. We were close.

  We also had 4 others join our family too in those 3 years. Emmy Leonard, Emma Quelle, Ghavin Ramirez, and Laura Plummon. My friends made my life more bearable. They and Adam were my main motivation for living. I thought everything would become more manageable.

  Little did I know how fucked up everything would become.

   I just turned twelve. It was two months after I turned twelve. It was August 22 to be exact. I was getting ready to head into seventh grade. It was one of the hottest days of summer yet. I-I don’t remember exactly what I did to piss off my step dad so bad. I do remember however, going three days of no sleep when my insomnia wore off after two weeks and the brutal corporeal regiment that he had me on. I guess on the third day he finally took some form of pity on me and he had me do jumping jacks. That doesn’t sound bad right?

  Well since they were the easiest things out there to do he commanded me to do more and go faster. We had this downstairs neighbor. She wasn’t a good person. She was loud, obnoxious, and sold drugs. We lived in that type of neighborhood and refused to take care of the two kids she had. A boy and a girl no more than 6 and 9. We lived in an old apartment so the floors and walls were pretty thin. The woman yelled at us through the floor. “Hey could you keep it down? You’re being too loud!”.

  That was my step dad’s breaking point. He was already pissed with me as it is and the neighbor made it worse. He snapped his head up and I saw something snap inside of him. I was used to his anger but this was….different. it was this cold, unrestrained, unrelenting, calculating, suffocating, darker anger. And suddenly on that hot summer day the room was freezing cold. I never felt more scared in my life.

   My step dad ran into the kitchen. I followed him frantically repeating the question of what are you doing? He grabbed a regular kitchen knife from the knife holder we had. He told me to wait here and to stay put.

   I was afraid at this stage when I was 12. Not knowing what he’d do to me in that state if i dared disobeyed and I wasn’t going to test that. I did as I was told. It was deathly quiet. 5 minutes has passed, 10, 20, 30, 45, an hour, two hours has passed at this point and I began to feel nervous because if he did kill her it shouldn’t take 2 full hours to do so. Where was he? What if something happened to him? What if he’s the one who got killed? How would I explain that to the police? My mother? My little brother? I couldn’t. So against what I was told and my Intuition I went downstairs to where the first apartment was. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Honestly I should have just stayed where I was.

  I stood in the doorway as the freeze instinct took over. I wasn’t exactly sure whether or not I should have ran, fought him or gone along with the situation. I remember feeling too much in shock to feel anything at the time. I saw the dead corpse all bloodied and mutilated and beginning to rot with how hot it was. I knew death happened to everybody and I was quite familiar with it at Rosewood. There was always someone dying there every week. But it’s a whole other thing when you see death first hand for the first time.

  My step dad was just standing there staring at the body as if he can’t believe what he had done. He and his knife were covered in blood. He eventually noticed me standing at the doorway and ordered me to help clean up the evidence. I couldn’t run otherwise I would have died that day too. I couldn’t fight him in that state, I wasn’t strong or smart enough to. So I went along with the situation and helped clean up the best I could.

  Later on that night when my mom and little brother got home and went to sleep. My step dad and I went back downstairs and put the dead body in my mother’s trunk and my step dad drove us off to Fairfield Park. All the way back by the willow tree where the dirt was fresh and no one would see us. He ordered me to dig the grave for the woman while he supervised. I dug and dug. I came out of shock slightly but that’s because my anxiety and paranoia were sky high about being caught and I could’ve sworn that I felt something watching me from the woods surrounding Fairfield. But my step dad just told me to ignore it, say it was just my paranoia, and reassuring me that we wouldn’t get caught. I believed him at the time.

  The reason why I went with the situation and everything that he’s put me through over the years was because I thought that if I showed that I was loyal and still stuck by him then it would show that I was worthy of being his friend again and he would stop. That year I just wanted everything to stop. Horatio, Rosewood, the abuse I recieved from my step dad, everything. But nothing ever stopped. I knew that there was no going back to any form of normal after what we did but I thought that this would prove my loyalty to him once and for all and he would just stop. I was wrong.

   The next two days after the incident I finally came to with the full realization of what I did. I took the two kid’s mother away from them. Sure they were spoiled brats and just rotten kids in general but that was still their mother. They had every right to a mother and me and my step dad took that away from them in the most brutal way possible. That wasn’t fair to the kids. I began to cry and my step dad called me a pathetic bitch and that I shouldn’t feel sorry because I made the Choice to help him. Which makes me just as much of a murderer as he is. I’m just as guilty. He also threatened to kill me, my mom, my little brother Adam, and all of my friends if I ever dared told anyone about what we did. And he would find out. After witnessing what he did that night I wasn’t going to take that bluff. So I suffered in silence and haven’t told a soul about what I did to this day.

  Twelve was the worst year ever for me. I’m not saying that to be cliche and over dramatic. Seventh grade was a real dark time for me and I have legitimate reasons for that. I still had that murder event fresh in my head so I was a little more broken after that. I became more of a broken quiet after that. I was so happy to see my friends again. At least I had them and they were still alive. At least I had a home, love, kindness, acceptance, and understanding with them. My therapist, Michelle didn’t even know about that event and she wasn’t going to. If I told her she would tell and send Adam and I into foster care and be separated. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Even if that meant that I had to suffer.

   But, I couldn’t tell them what happened to me that summer. I wasn’t going to put them in harm’s way because I desperately needed someone to talk to about what happened. They didn’t deserve the wrath of my step dad. No one else should have to suffer what I suffered. I didn’t want to get them killed because of my selfishness. That wouldn’t be fair to them after all they’ve done for me. Not only that but what if I did tell them? Then what? Would they deem me as a monster and a bad person like my step dad did? Would they still want anything to do with me? What if they left me and abandoned me? What would their reactions be? Would they be afraid of me? What if they no longer loved and accepted me for who I was? I couldn’t risk the one good thing I had going for me. I couldn’t have my family taken away for me. I could not be alone again. Everyone knew something was wrong with me and tried talking to me about it. There was no way I could tell them. I never even told Autumn about it and she was my best friend/ older sister. She was my other half. My human diary. We told each other just about everything and anything. That’s saying a lot. Nevertheless I still stayed silent about it.

  I guess I pushed them away for a while because we grew a little distant from each other after that. We all had something that we weren’t telling each other. One by one they all left. I had no idea what happened to them at first. I later found out that they went to various mental hospitals around Maplehood and in a couple of towns over. I didn’t know at the time. I thought they all left me for no reason, or worse Horatio got to them and killed them or they died by other means! So I was left to battle Rosewood and Horatio myself.

  Home wasn’t any better either. My mom and step dad were arguing and yelling constantly. Yet despite that he never once raised a finger to her. It was just me that he hit. The arguments were always all about me about what to do with me. You can imagine the amount of added stress I was under. What if they argued so much that they broke up and he would leave? Then that means I would be responsible for taking care of Adam. I’m not a good influence and I’m an awful person. I’m not fit to be a mother and I don’t want to be the one responsible for his downfall if he goes down that way. Adam was beginning to act out too and he was getting into trouble at daycare and at home. It seemed as though I was losing control of every aspect of my life.

  So with constant battles at school and at home and no friends/family. I became vindictive, hateful, and reckless. I let my grades slip because I didn’t care at the time. Life was meaningless to be and I honestly thought that I would not survive that year with how reckless I was. Which resulted in some cruel and unusual punishments from the teachers. Mainly I was just locked up in isolation. Not so bad. I knew other kids who had it worse than I did. I also got into a lot of fights that year too. But that was because I went against my own rules about fights. I never start fights, I only finish them. Except that year I went out of my way to start and get into fights and I won most of them. I was brutal and violent. Instead of following Rosewood’s weird fight code about only fighting until one or both opponents are knocked out I would fight until they were knocked out and then just continue to pound into them until they were almost a bloody pulp. I could never bring myself to kill them. I just didn’t have it in me to do so. Even Horatio, who would go out of his way to start shit with me, only started shit twice and then he knew better and stayed the fuck away from me that year. I even learned how to knife fight that year.

  I remember my most reckless night. It was the one that finally made me snap out of it. It was April. My mom was out of town, she was with my uncle Max in Indiana to try to help him get custody of his kid because his ex wife is a money hungry and power hungry hoe. He wanted me to go over to his house every night and check up on his cats. That was my job, he gave me the keys and everything. So it was just my step dad, Adam and I. It was one of those nights where he forced me to stay up late. After a long and violent argument I told him exactly how I felt.

  “YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE AMOUNT OF PAIN AND FEAR THAT I LIVE UNDER ON TOP OF ROSEWOOD. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE TO FIGHT TO SURVIVE AND WAITING EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY HOPING THAT YOU’D DIE!!!”, I yelled not caring who heard or what he’d do next.

  He just looked at me in a mixture of shock and amusement. I just gave him the most pissed off and hateful look up to date, breathing heavily.

 “Is that what you want now is it?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow and had his hands on his hips.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I made direct eye contact with him and stood in a position that said I was standing my ground.

  He nodded and quietly made his way over to where we keep our knives. Mom bought new knives not that long ago so they were still relatively sharp. He took a regular sized kitchen knife and put it into my hand. He went back to where he was standing. I looked at the knife and then back at him.

  “Take your shot”, he stated simply as he held out his arms.

  I just stared at him like he was crazy and in fear. There was no way he was serious. He was testing me. There was no way I could carry out his murder. How would I explain it to the cops? How would I explain it to my mom? How would I explain it to Adam? That I took away his father because I was selfish enough to do so. He would hate me forever. I didn’t want that. I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I did carry out his murder.

  Still what if? I mean he was wide open. Fair game. Would I let this opportunity pass me by? It would be sweet revenge for me with all the shit he did to me. A few good stabs in the right vital places and half of my problems would be gone. I could finally start healing a little.

  I turned the knife into the right position as I would with a fight and I took two steps forward. That was the end of that for me. I never saw him move so quick. The next thing I knew the knife was out of my hands and I was on the floor with him on top of me banging my head on the floor and choking me. Along with a few blows to my body.

  “YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH!!! DID YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH KILLING ME?! ME?! IF YOU TRY ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!!! I WILL KILL YOU AND I’LL MAKE SURE THAT THEY’LL NEVER FIND YOUR BODY!!!”, he screamed at me.

  He then let me go and I coughed as I tried to catch my breath and rolled over to my side and sat up. I was in a bit of a daze from the blows to the head. He then dropped Uncle Max’s keys into my lap.

  “Hurry up and get over to his house to check up on the cats. After that you can go to bed as soon as you get home. You have school in the morning and I don’t want to deal with your ass anymore tonight”.

  I whimpered in response as my whole body hurt and screamed at me to stop moving. I got up and staggered towards the door, closing it behind me.

  Uncle Max lived North of Maplehood Creek where the upper middle class generally resigned. It was an hour walk to his house and as you kept walking the road became more isolated, wide and winding and houses became less and less frequent. There were woods surrounding either side of the road. He lived on Applewood Drive because there was an apple orchard near his house. So picture this, it’s about two in the morning. You see a beaten, bloody, bruised, and scrawny twelve year old girl staggering around by herself with nothing to arm herself with. To me that just screams for trouble. So, potentially I could have been murdered, no one would be able to hear my screams and my body would probably be never found. Sounds fun right?

  I don’t know why, of all nights a piece of information that I’ve long forgotten about came back to me. I once heard long ago back in fifth grade from a couple of seniors. There were short cuts all over in the woods that helped you get from one town to another without walking for so long and what a coincidence one of the shortcuts started where I was and it would lead me close to Uncle Max’s house. All I had to do was head into the woods on my left side and pay attention to the beaten path I would be on since it was dark out. I really thought about it. It would almost be suicide going into the woods, by myself, at night, close to two in the morning, un armed and I wasn’t in the best physical condition to fight in case something were to happen. That’s how you die in the horror movies, it was common sense. However, all I really wanted was some form of sleep and at that point in my life my sense of nihilism was so great I honestly did not care if I died or not. So, I did the most reckless thing I could do. I abandoned all fuking common sense and I ran into the woods.

  I don’t know what came over me…I guess it was just a mixture of everything. Hiding my first body, losing my friends, Horatio being relentless and ruthless, my parents arguing, the abuse getting worse, seeing my entire life that I knew falling apart right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it. My hatred, anger, lack of coping, confusion, lost, sadness, fear, and hurt were all too much to bear. I just broke down and started sobbing grossly and uncontrollably and I started running. I guess I was making an attempt to run away from my problems. I was just so pissed off and overwhelmed I just started punching every tree I could that was in my path.

  “I LOST EVERYTHING!!! I HAVE NOTHING LEFT!!!”

  “THE ONLY FORM OF A FAMILY I HAD!!! THEY ALL LEFT”

  “MY HOME LIFE FUCKING SUCKS IM TIRED OF LIVING WITH THE FEAR AND ABUSE AND THE CHAOS!!! I JUST WANT EVERYTHING TO STOP!!!”

  “I. HATE. ROSEWOOD. I’M TIRED OF FIGHTING TO SURVIVE I JUST WANT OUT”

  “I JUST WANT TO FUCKING DIE OR HAVE A RESET, REDUE, SECOND CHANCE PLEASE!”

  “SOMEONE TAKE ME AWAY! OR GIVE ME A SIGN…ANYTHING?! COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN COWARDS!”

  “….help”

  I said finally as I slid down a tree with my bloody knuckles and I pulled up my knees to my chest and I just finished crying. Eventually I ran out of tears and I continued on with my journey and I finally did what I was supposed to, got back home and I got at least one hour of sleep before I had to get up for school. Thankfully nothing bad happened and I honestly didn’t know what I would have done if something did happen.

  The beginning of my twelve year old year was really fucking rough and brutal. I’ve tried so many suicide attempts that I’ve lost count. In fact most of my scars are from self harm. The reason why I’m still alive is because if you actively try to commit suicide statistically speaking there’s an 85% chance that you won’t succeed so there’s that. Towards the end of my twelve year old year got so much better. I eventually came to the realization that I could control my grades again. I thought that if I could just distract myself long enough and get my grades back up to my usual straight A student status then everything else would fall back into place eventually. And it did. I buried myself in my school work to bring up my grades and to even get back ahead, my step dad bothered me a little less since I was focusing on school, my parents stopped arguing for the most part, Adam was back on the right path again and my friends came back to me one by one.  We even had five new additions to our family. Morgan Tatiano, Julie Bostons, Jewel Ingles, CJ Vargos, and last but not least Shawn Bishop. After that my family was pretty set in stone.

  Hell I even met my step dad’s oldest son from a previous relationship before he met my mom. His name was Michael Timothy Mulleney III. He was three years older than I was. So he was fifteen at the time. I was really happy because it was on my bucket list to meet at least one of his other kids and it was so cool to meet him. Over time however, he proved to be just like his dad. He would join in when my step dad picked on me. He was a delinquent to say the least. He was already in so much debt and over the last five years he’s had so many petty charges against him, continues to do stupid shit, miss too many court dates, violating probation rules twice, and had a warrant in a different county. He eventually got himself into prison for three years when I was seventeen.

  Adam knew about it right away because I told him since no one else was going to. My parents were furious with what I did. I’m sorry but I don’t believe in withholding information. I think it is unnecessarily cruel to deny someone knowledge when they ask for it. Besides he was going to find out sooner or later. They couldn’t keep it from him forever. I’d much rather have him know sooner than later. Despite Michael being just like his dad there were times where all of us were like actual siblings and I really do miss him overall.

  Thirteen was a really great year for me. Probably one of the few years that I would actively choose to go back to. I had a really great therapist named Heidi and on thursdays we did horse therapy since she owned a ranch too, which was always fun. I was also diagnosed with OCD with my cleaning because I discovered that as long as I was being productive he ignored me when he was angry for the most part. Which resulted in less beatings. As soon as he got angry or came out of his room I began cleaning and I did it quickly, quietly and efficiently. My method worked half of the time. It just became obsessive and compulsive. Now it’s just routine. I was also diagnosed with Insomnia when I told her about my sleep schedule or lack thereof and she finally made the doctors do something about it and prescribe me medication. I stopped taking the medication since it wasn’t working anyways and my step dad kept fucking around with what sleep schedule I was trying to establish by keeping me up for days on end when I didn’t have to and my insomnia wasn’t used to my advantage. I figured if I went this long managing it without medication I could do it some more and it would be easier to do so.

  I came up with a lot of good realizations at thirteen. One being who cares what other people say and think about me. As long as I know the truth about myself that’s all that matters. Another one being is that life is not guaranteed especially in my case with life at Rosewood and at home. It’s so tiring to be hateful all the time and I was already tired as it was from lack of sleep, insomnia, and narcolepsy. I had to save my energy for fights at Rosewood and at home to ensure my own survival and the survival of others. Besides was that the way I really wanted to go out when my time comes? No. The only thing I ask for when my death comes is for it to be quick and painless. That’s it. My favorite thing that I learned was to say fuck it. Life is too short and if I was going to get punished for no reason I might as well go all out, go big or go home and have fun while I can. If I’m going to get punished then at least I got something out of it. I learned to live a little and sneak out.

  It was so fun. Slightly dangerous because there’s at least two kids wandering around on the back roads at night at ungodly hours but it was still fun. At least Autumn and I would plan at lunch to sneak out later on at night. Other members of our gang were welcome to join but oftentimes none of them would remember to sneak out of their houses at the established times. So it was almost always just Autumn and I. That’s how I became more stealthy because of sneaking out constantly. Autumn showed me how to use the back roads so I’m now able to get all over town without being seen for the most part. We would just walk and talk about anything and everything, we would joke around and have fun. I felt so free when we snuck out at night and when I was with her. We could just be ourselves and be teenagers for once. We could be happy, and just forget everything for a while. We didn’t have to worry about surviving the next day, home, Rosewood, Horatio. ect…It was nice to be free for a couple of hours. The best part was that it pissed off my step dad so much because he knew I snuck out but he has absolutely no proof that I have been. It’s fun watching him struggle to justify my punishments.

  The best part about sneaking out was always on New Years Eve. That was the only time the entire gang made it a point to sneak out all together. We had this spot in the woods that was abandoned but it was safe since I trusted them and Autumn. Either Autumn or I would bring some form of booze since both of our families had at least one bottle of liquor around. We would pass the booze to each other and sing along to songs we knew and we would just celebrate another year of surviving Rosewood, we were all alive and in one piece and we all still had each other. That was good enough for us. This was our tradition from 13-16.

  Fourteen, fifteen and sixteen were pretty much smooth sailing more or less. Everything plateaued out. At fourteen I had Dr. Rachel and she had the doctors diagnosed me with narcolepsy once Dr. Rachel discovered that my sleeping habits were more than just insomnia. I was prescribed medication for that too but I stopped taking that as well because it wasn’t working. Fifteen I was diagnosed with non verbal learning disorder. Which means I can’t pick up on social cues very well. This was by Dr. Collins, she was okay I guess. Sixteen I had Dr. Baxter but he wasn’t much use because I felt as though I didn’t have any major issues to talk about aside from the ones I grew up with but I learned better coping mechanisms and my issues and my issues were more manageable. There was nothing else to talk about and he seemed very annoyed by that.

  I Even got a job at a restaurant called This or That. It was a typical family style restaurant and I worked in the back of the kitchen from fourteen through a quarter of the way through seventeen. I started to put aside money for Adam in a bank account so that way when he is old enough he has a lump sum of money that’s all his. Hopefully he uses to get the fuck out of Maplehood. I even started to put aside money for myself so I can buy a bus ticket and get the fuck out of Maplehood myself and start a whole new life when I was old enough.

  Of course the abuse continued and so did my fighting, survivalist life at Rosewood but I had my friends or more like my family to help me through it. We all helped each other. They were my main motivation for living besides Adam. Honestly if I never had met them I’d probably be dead or a more vicious and violent person than what I am if my step dad had his way. They taught me what family, kindness, compassion, love, home, and acceptance was. I wouldn’t have known what that was if I never met them. I can never repay them for what they did I owe them everything. Including my life and I knew they would do the same for me.

   I just never knew that that would be put to actual use one day.

  It was September 28.It…was homecoming day. The days following homecoming was spirit week. One of the only times where Rosewood was actually a normal school. Friday was Rosewood pride. Where we celebrate Rosewood and the sports teams. Hell it was one of the rare times I actually wore the skirt part of the uniform. At the end of the day we would have the pep rally with all these competitions. It was actually quite fun. Later on that night Rosewood would have it’s own homecoming show and a dance with a theme to match. At Rosewood homecoming is a different theme every year. This year was carnival themed. Which I didn’t like as it is because I have a severe distrust of clowns. Too many horror movies growing up you know? On top of the fact I wasn’t exactly big on school functions, especially at that school. The only reason why I went was because my friends were going with the thought process of “fuck it, it’s our last year here or at least some of us only had a year to go and the least we can do is go to this one and only homecoming and celebrate one last hurrah together” I had the same thought process too. Not only that but since it was basically our last year there it was more important to me than ever to keep them alive since I knew damn well that Horatio would be there being up to god knows what. I was not going to lose them.

  The only thing was that I would have to convince my mom and step dad to let me go. That was the hard part. I got up the courage to call my mom knowing that she would be home since it was her day off and my step dad would be home as well like he always is. I asked her if I could go to homecoming. That resulted in a huge ass argument between my mom and step dad.

  “She’s a bad influence especially if she’s with those heathens she calls her friends!”, he yelled

  I physically cringed.

  “She’s seventeen now. She’s gone through her entire life having very little to no social interactions. She’s never been to at least one school function before and she’s a senior now, this is her last year there I’m sure that we can spare her this one event”, my mom argued back.

  “You know she’s incapable of making good decisions! How can we be so sure that she won’t get into one of those fights that she always gets into or worse she may end up accidentally killing someone!”

  “She’s a human! She’s troubled but she’s not a monster or demon child that you make her out to be! And besides, her therapist says that she needs more social interaction. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to get some socialization in a controlled environment and if it makes you feel any better my mother is supposed to come by today and visit. You could stay here with Adam and my mother and I will go with her to supervise. Does that sound fair to you?”, she asked.

  Wonderful, they were treating me like a freak experiment. I could hear my step dad huff and storm away on the other side of the phone.

  “Tabby”, my mother said in a sing song voice that really pissed me off, “does that sound fair to you?”

  “Yeah mom”

  “Good we’ll see you when?”

  “At six”

  The show was from six to eight and the dance was from eight to ten.

  “Okay good we’ll see then. I love you”

  “Love you too mom, bye”

  I hung up the phone and let out a sigh of relief and that’s when all of my friends came up to me.

  “So, what did they say?”, prodded Emmy.

  “Well after a long argument about letting me go and how much of a bad person that I am and that I’m incapable of making good decisions. My mom decided to let me go with the condition that she and my grandmother would come to supervise”, I said as I rolled my eyes.

  “At least you’re able to go”, pointed out Heath.

  “Yeah that’s true I really can’t complain. I’m just afraid that since Horatio will be there, I have no idea what he could be planning to do. I mean who knows how he acts at school functions”, I stated.

  “Relax Tabby cat. We’ll be right there beside you if anything happens. We won’t let each other out of our sight. We got your back just like you got ours”, grinned Autumn.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. They really were the best.

  “Thanks guys”

  “No problem”, said Autumn, “look we’re going home to get changed into something that’s not Rosewood. We’ll be back”, said Autumn.

  “Okay I’ll see you later”

  “You don’t want to at least go home and change out of that uniform? I know how much you hate skirts and all”, said Autumn confused.

  “Autumn, I never want to go home, you know this. I’d rather put up with slight discomfort, beats going home any day. Besides someone has to stay here and keep an eye on Horatio to make sure that he doesn’t try anything”.

 "Okay well do you at least want me to bring you some clothes to change into so you can get out of that skirt at least?“, she asked.

 "Nah I’m good besides I don’t want to throw my mom and grandmother into a conniption fit if they see me dressed in clothes that’s not mine or my Rosewood uniform”, I laughed.

  Autumn laughed too.

 "Fair enough. I’ll see you later"

 "See ya"

  Autumn left to go catch up with the rest of the gang while I went outside and sat on the curb to wait for my mom and grandma and my friends to show up.

  I saw Horacio showing back up and was standing at the entrance dressed as the ringleader handing out pink candies that were laced with LSD (we didn’t know it was laced at the time) to the staff. He claimed that they were homemade and he offered me a piece since I was just sitting there a few feet from him. Everyone who goes to Rosewood should know that it is common knowledge that you do not take anything that Horacio gives you. Whatever it maybe. I didn’t take the candy because I knew better. I was too smart for his bullshit but not smart enough.

  By five o clock everyone started showing back up and they all took one or two pieces of candy that he was giving out. I tried to warn everyone but they wouldn’t listen to me. It made my blood boil knowing that he was giving me an arrogant smirk and there was nothing I could do about it. It was getting late and there were still no signs of my friends. Maybe they were running late. Or, maybe I was too busy fighting with Horatio that I didn’t see them come in. Still I couldn’t shake off the growing anxiety and dread that was creeping over me.

  At 5:45 my mother and grandmother showed up. I tried to keep them away from Horatio but he was too slick and sickly sweet it made your stomach hurt at how he talked to them. They both seemed pleased and then they looked at me like I was the crazy one that had a problem with him. They took a piece of candy after I warned them not to but they didn’t listen to me either. It seemed as if I was the only one who didn’t take the candy. It was me against them.

  We were led to the left side of the building where the high school section was. There was a makeshift stage and chairs all lined up neatly. I still couldn’t find my friend group anywhere. But I knew that they were here so I didn’t worry about it too much and I’ll find them later. They had to be here. They promised that they would and that they would have my back. More importantly I promised that I would have their backs and we don’t break promises. So I got to the seats and watched the show which was quite boring since I wasn’t hallucinating from the candy. But the last act though. It was outside. I saw all my friends lined up on the rooftop of the school and it’s a fucking tall building. While everyone was thinking that they were doing some acrobatic tricks I watched them jump to their deaths one by one….I was screaming and crying begging someone to help but all ignored me and I couldn’t shout because they were too far up to hear me and I couldn’t break into the school either. i couldn’t do anything. later on the LSD wore off and they were mortified to find the 14 dead bodies. all confused on how it happened. So they deemed it the Rosewood Massacre.

  After the show was over I confronted Horacio about what he did. I attacked him to strangle him. My goal was to kill him. but the problem was that we’re too evenly matched with each other. in strength and intelligence so it turned out to be a fist fight. we did a good amount of damage to each other. until he caught one of my punches and shoved my fist through a closed window shattering the window and every bone in my hand. i had to get the glass surgically removed as it was deep in the tissue so I can’t feel a thing in my hand anymore and they had to set my hand for the broken bones to heal. But since doctors refused to do their jobs correctly they set it wrong so it healed wrong and now my hand is paralyzed.

  My mom let me stay home for the month to let my hand heal and to work through the trauma of what happened at Rosewood. She would bring my school work home to me. Even my step dad was slightly nicer to me. I guess he even took some form of pity on me.

  My therapist at the Dr. Consworth wanted me to talk about what happened. She only knew the story that the news put out there. But she doesn’t know the real story of what happened and there’s no way she was going to. She wouldn’t have believed me to begin with and she could never understand the pain I was going through. She did manage however to diagnose me with PTSD so there’s that I guess.

  What really made me lose my shit was when my step dad told me to get over it and that I shouldn’t be hurting because it was my fault that they died in the first place. His logic was that if I never showed up then they wouldn’t have died. After all bad shit seems to always happen around me is his belief. I had enough at this point and I stood up and yelled.

  “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?! YOU THINK THAT WAS ALL MY FAULT?! MINE?! I DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG BUT TRIED TO WARN EVERYONE! I HAD NO IDEA THAT HE WOULD DO THAT?! THIS WAS ALL HORATIO’S FAULT! IT’S BEEN HIS FAULT FOR THE LAST EIGHT YEARS! I HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT PROTECTED, SAVED, LOVE AND CARE FOR MY FRIENDS AND THEY DID THE SAME FOR ME! THEY WERE MORE OF A FAMILY THAN YOU AND MOM WILL EVER BE! AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT I SHOULD JUST GET OVER IT?!”, I finished as I was breathing heavily.

  He just stared at me in shock. I was so pissed I knew that I would get hurt if I stayed any longer. I knew an outburst like that would result in a beating but I just didn’t care. I lost everything, my sense of home, happiness and the ones I considered family what’s losing my life too?

  “YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU!”, I screamed and I stormed out and slammed the door behind me.

  I was really in for it now but to tell you guys the truth I honestly didn’t care and I would deal with it when I get back home. Right now I just had to get away and I had some business to take care of. I knew exactly where to go.

  I stopped at Maplehood Creek Cemetery and looked for the Rosewood Massacre section since I heard they created a section for the victims in an attempt to honor them. Rumor turned out to be true as I saw twenty five graves with fourteen all lined in a row which were unmistakingly my friends.

  I sat down to have a talk with them.

 "Hey guys it’s me Tabby. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see you guys sooner I could only do it now", I said tiredly.

  I was upset and pissed that they lied to me and broke their promise. But at the same time they never did not once. So maybe they had a good reason to. Maybe Horatio tricked them or something. I don’t know and I guess I never will. They were my family, they did what no one else wanted to do. I owe them everything so I forgave them.

  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to save you guys. I’m sorry that I failed to protect you. I’m sorry that I failed you not only as a leader but as a friend and as a sister as well. I’m sorry that I didn’t even say goodbye to you and that I love each and everyone of you”.

  I paused for a moment.

 "However, your deaths won’t go in vain. I will avenge all of you and take down Horatio once and for all. At least I can make Rosewood somewhat safe and make sure no one else has to suffer like we did. That’s a promise".

 I stayed silent for a few minutes enjoying the peace and quiet, giving one last look at them before standing up.

 "I love all of you goodbye. See you on the other side of the war and I hope to see you later when I get older…", I said softly before walking away and into the shit storm that was waiting for me back at home.

  Of course my step dad beat me as soon as I walked in the door. It was payback for what I did earlier. I expected it and I embraced it. I took what was coming to me and I even hoped that this would be the beating that kills me.

  It wasn’t and unfortunately I’m still alive.

  I laid awake staring blankly up at the ceiling. Thankfully I was able to go to bed early since my step dad decided that he didn’t want to deal with me for the rest of the night. Unfortunately sleep was non existent that night as I was replaying last month’s events. Seeing the ones that I held close jumped to their deaths one by one. Everyone cheering, my own screams of terror. I could still hear the breaking of the glass window as Horacio put my fist through it. My bandaged left hand clenched up as I felt the phantom pain. I tried turning onto my side to look at my alarm clock. I let out a silent yelp as I was in pain from my bruises. My alarm clock read 1:30am. I turned again onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Mom was going to make me go back to school tomorrow and I am just not ready to survive another day of Rosewood torture and dealing with Horatio myself. I just wasn’t prepared to fight alone again.

  Then suddenly it dawned on me like I just got hit with a big pile of bricks. I came up with the realization that If I stayed in Maplehood any longer I would be killed for sure. Either by Horatio, my step dad or myself. One of the three and I can’t die not yet. Not until I avenged my friends and killed Horacio once and for all.

  So I did the most sensible thing that I could do. I got up and winced in pain at my bruises. I got dressed and packed up a small bag. With a couple of pictures. One of mom, step dad, older brother and younger brother and I  and one class photo in 8th grade that was just me with my now deceased friends and some clothes. I took what money I had saved up in my sock drawer. I was going over a couple of towns to the nearest bus stop and buy a bus ticket and get the fuck out of Maplehood and start my life over somewhere else.

  Obviously that didn’t happen or I wouldn’t be where I am now.

  Anyways. I snuck out and headed for the woods that were surrounding my backyard. I never felt so free and full of hope before in my life. This time it was me who saved me. I saved myself. I gave myself a second chance at life and I never looked back.

  Ever.

[ladyherenya]

Books read in December

I set myself some reading goals for the end of the year -- finish any books I’d already started, read the books I'd already borrowed, and to read ebooks I’d bought before buying any more. But I guess most of those books just weren’t the right genre? A few exceptions aside, this month I read a bunch of other things instead.

Also read: The Frost Fair Affair and Holiday Brew by Tansy Rayner Roberts, and Sweetest in the Gale and 40-Love by Olivia Dade.

Reread: Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn and Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston.

Total: thirteen novels (including two audiobooks and two rereads), three novellas, and three story/novella collections.

Favourite cover: The cover was what caught my attention for Finding My Voice and Old Baggage.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, Or What You Will by Jo Walton and The Disorderly Knights by Dorothy Dunnett.

Next up: A Most Improper Magick by Stephanie Burgis.

*

Queen’s Play by Dorothy Dunnett (narrated by David Monteath): In 1548, Francis Crawford of Lymond arrives in France, incognito in order to protect Scotland’s queen, seven-year-old Mary. I enjoyed this, even though I am not very interested in the antics of the French court and thought The Game of Kings benefitted from having more characters who I found wholly likeable and/or who matter, personally, to Lymond. Dunnett is an impressive storyteller -- vivid descriptions, lively dialogue, nuanced characters and twists that take me by surprise. Moreover, those satisfying puzzle pieces explain the plots and intrigue, give insight into personalities and develop the narrative’s themes (here, the consequences of power). 

The Kinship of Secrets by Eugenia Kim: In 1950, four year old Inja lives with her grandparents and uncle in Seoul, while her sister Miran is in America with their parents. War delays the family’s reunion. This is a fascinating portrayal of two sisters growing up in different countries, and an incredibly poignant story about a family separated. Compelling, and beautifully written, and despite moments of intense grief, hopeful. I liked how, in the end, Inja and Miran didn’t have all the answers.. But I wonder if I’d have found the ending more satisfying if I had a deeper understanding of who they both were as adults.

Teacup Magic series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Tea and Sympathetic Magic: Stephanie Burgis recommended this novella as something similar to her Harwood Spellbook series and it certainly has a similar appeal: romantic fantasy, bordering on comedy-of-manners territory. Like Georgette Heyer but with magic and diversity and an intention to challenge problematic and outdated attitudes. Charming and cosy, like a good cup of tea rather than a frothy hot chocolate. Miss Mnemosyne Seaborne, a reluctant guest at a houseparty. She joins forces with the other guests after an unexpected abduction occurs. Entertaining, and even though it was too short for me to really become invested, I immediately wanted to read the sequel.

The Frost Fair Affair: After her previous adventures, Mneme has new friends, a suitor and a campaign: overturning the social conventions which prevent women from travelling by portal. After someone in Town steals her political pamphlets, she gets caught up in a mystery. I enjoyed this oh so much! I found myself caring a lot more about Mneme and her relationships; I liked the mixture of intrigue and danger, and how in the cause of dealing with these, Mneme learns more about the man she hopes to marry; and the Frost Fair, on a frozen river, makes a delightful setting. I'd love to read more.

Belladonna U(niversity) series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Unreal Alchemy: Oh, this is my new favourite! Urban fantasy about Australian uni students who are connected to an indie rock band, Fake Geek Girl. These stories are funny, geeky and romantic, with great chapter titles and lots of fandom references. They employ different points of view and different narrative styles in a way that’s really effective. I love the characters and how important and intense their non-romantic relationships are. Between them they have a variety of romantic/sexual relationships and feelings, but friendships and familial relationships, like the one between twin sisters Hebe and Holly, also drive the narrative. The first collection contains four stories/novellas.

Fake Geek Girl -- Ferd moves into the Manic Pixie Dream House; Holly and Sage argue about the future of the band.

Unmagical Boy Story -- Viola has feelings about her best friend losing his magic, transferring colleges and making new friends.

The Bromancers --  The band and frriends spend a weekend at a magical music festival.

The Alchemy of Fine -- A prequel about the band’s origins.

Holiday Brew: This collection is more serious and less overtly fandom-y than the first, but arguably still very meta (especially if you consider Viola, Jules and Ferd as a response to the trio in Harry Potter). I sat down intending to read just one of these stories -- and ended up reading them all.

Halloween Is Not A Verb -- Holly invites various people to their mums’ place for Halloween.

Solstice on the Rocks -- A short story about university graduation.

Kissing Basilisks --  Begins on New Year’s Day, is compelling, and picks up the non-band-related narrative threads from Fake Geek Girl.

Missing Christmas by Kate Clayborn: This novella is loosely connected to Beginer's Luck but stands alone. It's sweet. Business partners and best friends Jasper and Kristen pay a last minute trip to a client and get trapped by a blizzard, which pushes them to reconsider the boundaries they’ve drawn in their relationship. I liked the moments which showed that they’re an effective team because they know each other so well and can communicate through subtle body language. 

Finding My Voice by Marie Myung-Ok Lee: Ellen is a Korean-American teenager in her final year of high school. Her story is about applying for college, gymnastics training, Ellen’s relationships with her best friend and her first boyfriend, dealing with racism at school and with her parents’ expectations that she will follow her sister to Harvard. It’s very short, first published in 1993. I was aware of all the places where a YA novel written today would be allowed to give more details and to expand the story, but it was still interesting.

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas: I’ve borrowed this several times this year, only to return it unread each time, and I was starting to wonder if I really wanted to read it. But once I actually sat down and focused, I quickly realised that I definitely did! I became completely engrossed in this Mulan retelling. It’s a tense adventure. I enjoyed the characters and their interactions, particularly the elaborate courtesy of formal conversations, and the way Mulan and her companions value loyalty and camaraderie. I thought this was a very believable take on the whole girl-disguised-as-a-boy thing too.

Dear Mrs Bird by AJ Pearce: In 1940, Emmy wants a newspaper job but is instead typing up letters for a women’s magazine and discarding mail from readers whose problems are Unacceptable. Frustrated that Mrs Bird won’t offer advice to so many women in need, Emmy's tempted to take matters into her own hands. Her optimism means she makes some naive mistakes, some of which made me wince, but it’s also an incredible strength. She's delightful company. I really like how much of this story is about her friendship with Bunty and I enjoyed the insight into women's magazines and the Auxiliary Fire Service.

The Lonely Hearts Dog Walkers by Sheila Norton: Recently separated, Nicola moves back in with her mother, starts as a teaching assistant at her daughter’s new school, gets a puppy and joins a group of dog walkers, who embark upon a mission to save the local park. This was very low-angst and, once I realised the sort of story it was, kind of predictable. I can recognise the appeal of this brand of realism, but personally would have preferred more humour or more emotional complexity. Were Nicola a colleague, it’d be easy to find things in common to discuss, but her story wasn’t quite what I was looking for.

Chasing Lucky by Jenn Bennett: When Josie and her mother return to Beauty to look after the family bookshop, Josie has plans -- keep to herself, finish high school, secure a photography apprenticeship, move to LA. But after Josie accidentally breaks a store-front window and her childhood friend Lucky takes the blame, Josie’s priorities change. I enjoyed this more than I expected to. I particularly liked how Lucky subverts people’s expectations, and how Josie’s family works at communicating better with each other.

Old Baggage by Lissa Evans (narrated by Joanna Scanlan): It’s 1928 and Mattie Simpkin, a now-middle-aged militant suffragette, lives in Hampstead with her friend Florrie Lee (aka The Flea). Mattie gives lectures about the suffragettes but realises she’s not reaching the younger generation. So she starts a club for “healthy outdoor fun” for teenage girls. Mattie is wonderfully forthright -- amusing, engaging and informative when it comes to things she’s passionate about -- but she’s also fallible.  A really delightful yet bittersweet story about friendship and loss and the opportunities available for women. I liked its awareness that being able to loudly be yourself is a privilege not everyone has. 

There’s Something About Marysburg series by Olivia Dade:

Teach Me: Rose is unimpressed -- not only must she share her classroom with the new history teacher, he’s been given her Honors World History class. There’s something particularly satisfying about people who have been hurt and lonely finding support and love in each other. I like that they get to know each other over many months. I like Martin’s relationship with his teenage daughter and Rose’s relationship with her ex’s parents is so touching that one scene made me cry. And it was interesting seeing the US school system from the perspective of experienced teachers; I appreciated the details about their jobs.

Sweetest in the Gale: a Marysburg story collection contains three novellas about couples in their forties.

Sweetest in the Gale -- Griff is worried when Candy, a fellow English teacher, returns for the new school year uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. A really sweet romance about people who are navigating loss and grief.

Unraveled -- Maths teacher Simon is assigned to observe and mentor the new art teacher, Poppy. I enjoyed the threads of mystery.

Cover Me -- After a concerning mammogram result, Elizabeth marries an old friend so she’s covered by his health insurance. Predictable as anything, but that made it a safe position from which to explore serious and sobering topics.

40-Love: I’m not interested in tennis or holiday resorts; I was disappointed that this novel wouldn’t show Tess being an assistant principal; and even though some of my favourite fictional couples have a significant age-gap, I’m wary about age-gap romances (and socially-programmed to think it’s odd for a woman to date a much younger guy). But I liked the other stories in this series and I was curious. It’s Not really My Cup of Tea, but I was convinced that Tess and Lucas were both capable of making their (somewhat unconventional) relationship work. An interesting exercise in challenging my social-programming.

The Viscount Who Loved Me by Julia Quinn: After watching Bridgerton (not always to my tastes but mostly fun), curiosity prompted me to read the opening of the second novel, and I was so entertained by Kate Sheffield verbally sparring with the viscount, whom Kate is determined to prevent from marrying her younger sister. I continued to be entertained up until the viscount acts a bit too entitled on his wedding night (that’s unattractive, if outrightly problematic). Which left me in rather an uncharitable mood for the final act, so I can’t identify if the drama of dealing with past traumas didn’t meet the standard of the earlier comedy or if I just hold such scenes to differing standards.