#i wouldn’t walk on eggshells around my mother constantly

[drivemysoul]

idk i just kind of regret every choice ive made in the last 2 years

[soullessjack]

i don’t think there’s anything new I can add to the performative-jack studies because it’s like..very cut and dry, guy who’s constantly perceived as a threat does his best to seem innocuous and friendly..but there is an underlying layer of exactly how jack tries to present himself to others (that I’ve definitely already posted about but whatever).

soo like. take this outline for example:

Jack: “He still has to be killed.” Cas: “Doing that might kill Dean as well, so [I] doubt any of [us] would be willing to do that.” Jack: “I would.”

‘Cas is a little shocked by how calmly Jack says this, and Jack says he knows what Cas is thinking; that this is Lucifer’s gene pool talking. It’s not. “I’m not my father. I’m not my mother. I’m me.”

“You’re all so focused on saving Dean, but Dean is Michael’s vessel. There’s a good chance Dean isn’t even alive. Is Jimmy Novak still alive?* Could anyone save him? It’s Michael. And Michael has to die.” ‘Cas stares at Jack, who looks coldly collected.

post-war jack is straight up traumatized and jaded by everything he’s seen and experienced in apocalypse world, still making efforts to be kind and sympathetic of course, but with a bit more edge to him now. for six months he’s been fixated on killing Michael, and he’s way more willing to do the Hard Thing (kill Dean) than he might’ve been before to do so (which actually reminds me a LOT of the chicken/snake story from ouroboros but we won’t get off subject).

obviously he still cares about/loves Dean, we’ve seen that in the rest of S14, but he’s also seen what Michael did to another world and wouldn’t put anything before preventing that. *he’s also very willing to hit Cas where it hurts with the Jimmy comment

but the thing that sticks out is Castiel immediately assuming that Jack’s calm, cold collectedness in the way he talks about killing Dean/Michael is somehow evidence of Lucifer’s influence or heritage; that Jack couldn’t possibly feel this way by himself. even Jack refutes it, stating that he’s neither of his parents (ie, it’s his own decision to kill Dean if it’s necessary). I think it’s also interesting he mentioned not being his mother, because I think that’s why Cas is so surprised by his demeanor and jumps to attribute it to Lucifer.

from day one Kelly’s heritage was the only argument Sam and Cas had against the idea that Jack would be evil. to be fair, Jack does take after Kelly a lot; he even looks like her to some extent. but treating Kelly’s heritage as the It-factor that makes Jack good, treating him as basically an extension of Kelly who must be good and kind because she was good and kind (literally an inverse of how Lucifer’s heritage is treated) is still just dehumanizing.

the distrust he faces is understandable coming from AU Bobby and people who are being actually displaced and exterminated by Michael, but the fact that Jack is subject to the same scrutiny from his own chosen father as well adds to why he represses these parts of himself so much, why he puts on that naive nuclear-son personality and basically butters everyone up all the time.

I think the only times when Jack has actually unmasked himself were at points of extreme low empathy, because most of the time his facade is put on for the sake of other people and the fear they feel towards him. he obviously wouldn’t have to worry about that while he’s human, but like I said, he’s literally a war veteran/criminal by this point. he’s gonna have a little more edge to him than before, and a little less empathy for the small things.

the second and probbaly more obvious one is his behavior while soulless, completely lacking the empathy required to care about keeping up his facade—so much so that he just bluntly tells Mary that he’s annoyed by everyone eggshell-walking around him like he’s a time bomb again. then, *checks script* like a flip switched, he goes back to that facade and reassures Mary that he knows they’re doing it out of love. He’s blatantly performing his emotional responses now.

jack is still soulless for like…three (?) episodes in S15, and still incapable of really feeling any emotion despite being able to logically process them. like he is literally so empty inside that he resorts to binge eating to feel some kind of sensation. but he’s consistently playing up the happy-go-lucky shtick when he isn’t just depressed and withdrawn (especially the church basement scene where he immediately gets the dumb Bambi look when he sees Cas after his failed cannibalism attempt).

got a headache while writing this so I’ll just leave it here but like. A Lot of the reason why Jack performs so much is because specific traits he shows are not only taken as threats, but are also associated with Lucifer and treated as signs of his “true nature” <- click that link it’s important for context

Mk that’s all byeeee (*´ -`)

[snugglyrecovery]

The story of my sickness:

This is my first ever Tumblr post. I am recently two years sober, and I accidentally wrote a lot about my sobriety in the last few hours. I’d love to answer questions or hear from someone who can relate.

Just lost my job for making too many mistakes, but I’m a “joy to work with” and “incredibly talented”. Trying to figure life out.

Here’s my story. Thanks for letting me tell it.

Addiction is a cold and lonely place. The bottom of the glass is a window to the other side of the world that I watched others live in every day from my apartment on a busy street corner. Other lives seemed to be full of joy and honest fulfillment. On a molecular level, I felt that I was unworthy of even interacting with that life. The mask of normalcy I wore was made of eggshells, and it cracked when I was around the people I admired, so I hid from the world for a year.

I prescribed myself a life of misery for the perceived sins of my past. Generally a person who values truth and goodness in others, I saw the pitfall of humanity in the mirror. Disgusting, revolting, wholly wrong, and rage inducing—me. The weakest of weak links. When I became so ill from drinking and myself that I lost the ability to walk, which lasted for over a year due to neuropathic pain, I asked for help in an unwavering plea. I hadn’t left my apartment in weeks. There was dog fecal matter everywhere, which was a sign of the darkness that had overcome me considering my normal absolute adoration and care for my dogs. (They are happy and healthy!) I called a thrown-together team of loved ones with a request for help to go to rehab and the willingness to do anything to feel better. I called because I fell asleep every night fearing I wouldn’t make it to the next day. One day I actually woke up in my own blood and vomit. Scared the shit out of myself. My doctors eventually would say that a dark day had been on the horizon and would’ve easily been my demise within a month or so had I not received treatment.

There is a dense and tumultuous cloud attached to my silver linings: I had some of the money due to the sudden and life altering death of my beloved mother, but the $50,000 rehab stay was just a small percentage of what the hospitals, emergency rooms, medications, ambulance rides, and therapies amounted to. My esteemed position of four years didn’t convince my company to provide me or any of their employees with health insurance. This entire medical journey would be out of pocket and would ultimately force me to file for bankruptcy (like right now).

I had no choice but to carry on with treatment and disregard the cost. I didn’t want to hurt my family by dying. I could take or leave the constant pain I still feel daily, but I would never want to traumatize my loved ones more than I had since showing them my decaying life and shattered spirit.

I approached recovery from a place of understood brokenness and unwavering arrogance/stupidity… I was better than this. I went to rehab in two phases due to a forced three week hospital stay. Initially at rehab, I forgot often where I was, would wander off to the woods, and constantly fall from the pain in my legs. It was determined that I was too sick to stay in the program. I was taken on an $11,000 ambulance ride to a hospital after 10 days in rehab. I don’t really remember the hospital, honestly. I know I did physical therapy. There were plenty of fluids and lorazepam IVs. There were several kind nurses, unless they are figments of my imagination. I learned I could further not trust my own experiences when I hallucinated that members of my extended family were in the hall one day for several hours. No one was there. No one was coming until I had to be picked up. But I heard them speaking. Loudly. That episode eventually dissipated, and I have not hallucinated since.

I left the hospital when three weeks had passed, and I quickly reorganized at the closest thing to home base I had with my ex-fiancé. I went back to rehab to receive nine more weeks of in-patient rehabilitation for substance abuse disorder, major depressive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. Two years after the first day I went to a hospital, I am still sober with almost (no one’s mind is perfect) no temptation to relapse. A miracle for my soul.

Recovery and all of her moods doesn’t have to always be a clinical journey filled with “cans” and “can’t” do’s. I was filled with uncertainty and confusion with severe memory loss. Thrusted far from the world of being the brightest in the class to the world of endless frustration and forgetting my sister’s names. I needed something to hold at night in my twin bed at rehab. I needed warmth to make it through the darkness of constant fear and confusion. I, without intention, made sobriety a comforting hug because I absolutely had to. My earnest choice to be healthy and back in-control necessitated safety I had never known in this life. I can now rely on myself and my sobriety. Sobriety can either be a prison or a safe and snuggly home for our souls, inviting us to be the healthiest, most wholesome version of ourselves. I have effectively put some of the chaos of my life behind me. I no longer wake up dreading to hear about my out of control emotional responses or gazing in embarrassment at a reposted political article that I drunkenly wrote a very superficial rant about on Facebook.

I don’t attend regular AA meetings. I am not suggesting this is ideal for those considering how many they or a loved one should attend themselves. I got a DUI in 2017, (I was so consumed with guilt and called the cops on myself… don’t do this) and continued to drink until I saw the real possibility of death in May of 2021.

I now write poetry to keep myself from going insane. I have not yet figured out a way to escape the ease I find chaos with. It is my home. I am less anxious after I just got fired, for example. Careless mistakes, lack of conscientiousness, and difficulty with details seem to always follow me around like the angel of professional and scholastic death. Kindness and character are through the roof when I’m not behind the wheel of my car— a dark tale for another time. I just want to be.

[pxincessofcolorwriting]

I think about all the things that I could have to you, 

Or should have said to you, 

Or would have said to you. 

If I felt I could have. 

Talking with you reminded me of my father, 

And my grandfather, 

And even my mother:

Constantly watching for cracks and eggshells, 

Saying the wrong thing even though I was trying to tell you

How I was hurt and And I had to be the one to apologize because I hurt you. 

How I was manipulated and used. 

But how I wasn’t honest either. 

How I didn’t say a lot of things 

But you didn’t really ask, 

And when you did, it was more in the way 

A sword asks be plunged into someone’s body: 

You’re asking me until I bend and say yes.

You’re convincing me until I do. 

Then you’re happy.

You stole my bluntness and over inflicted yours. 

You studied me and watched and lured me and knew what to say, 

And like a lot of people, all of whom were wrong, like you were, 

Assumed I was a certain way and thought I would never leave once 

Halloween was over and you placed your mask off to the side. 

And it hurt you because I wouldn’t take your compliments, shallow and puddle thin: 

All things you thought I needed to hear to stay. 

To placate me when you fucked up. 

Again, you learned my surface and created a person who you thought I would like

Then made them disappear and tried to change me. 

I could have told you that was stupid but you didn’t want to hear me talk about my feelings. 

You turned me into your own sexual fantasy: each moment telling me 

How you couldn’t wait to slide between my thighs and go into details of 

How you were turning my sexual experimentation into your excuse to create a 

Living sex doll that did what you wanted.

Then had the audacity to tell me that I only gave you my sex when I barely did that. 

I’m angered at your audacity, 

At your action, 

At the sole fact, 

You said that to me. 

Then I realized you heard me emotionally but you didn’t care,

Because, when I said what I said earlier, you realized that I called you

Out. 

And it took me leaving for you to promise to change, to say that you would stop 

What bothered me and that you would do better.

That you were trying to grow me into being like you (which is the problem). 

I left and you changed and basically stated how I easily I quit and gave up. 

And that I would see in a few years time when I was thirty about quitting and giving up.  

I don’t give up but I do know when to leave. 

I learned that lesson when my mother, 

And grandmother, 

And aunts, 

Did not. 

I don’t give up but I do know when someone won’t be able to love me

As I am and the way that I need, and the way that they did want to be loved 

Is not a way that I can love them. 

Then I need to go. 

I don’t give up but I do know that I have to walk on eggshells around someone, 

If I feel like I can’t tell them how I feel, good or bad, and they can be an actual 

Support system for me, that I need to leave. 

And I don’t mean that “Don’t be sad; be glad” and “You shouldn’t be pessimistic” bullshit, 

Especially when you’re five seconds from re-re-re-arranging my room in anger. 

If I feel like I can’t joke with you, laugh with you, WITH YOU, WITH YOU, not you laughing AT ME, then we don’t need to be together. 

We were bad for each other. Or rather, we didn’t fit. 

And you were bad for me, but I was good for you.

You were trying to be make someone a safe haven: 

A place you didn’t have to stay but could go to when you fucked up. 

Where you were offered sex if you needed it but also offered comfort. 

A place that was like the comfort of a relationship with the responsibility on me 

But absolutely nothing required of you. 

You wanted to mold me, 

Like I said your type likes to, 

And like a lot of others like you, 

Not realizing that many have tried and failed to do so. 

You didn’t believe me. 

You made a joke of us marrying when you didn’t even if ask me my views on it.

But that said, I should have been honest. I should have been blunt.

I should have. 

I should have. 

I should have.

Because even though I know, even if I did, you will tell our story as though

I were the witch disguised as your deity, and how you’re the victor, 

And savior, 

And hero.

And I’m evil, and the spawn of the darkest creature from the pits of Hell. 

(Which I feel like I told you that I can be a demon) 

I still feel like I left this feeling like you won, and that you’re 

Somehow the more awakened, more enlightened one of us.

Or that you somehow know better and hang this over my head because

You’re secretly waiting for me to say how my personal life fell apart because 

I don’t see things through. 

No, I don’t see manipulation through.

But I realize now, if you need to claim that you’re the victor and I’m the dragon, 

To make yourself feel better, 

To make yourself feel more like a free spirit 

Instead of a spirit who is uncaring of consequences and then fears to face them. 

Then fine, do it.

I know the truth. 

I know my heart.

So does everyone else. 

Be that way. 

Fuck you though still, 

But be that way.   

[dannycathers]

“Of course she did.” Danny grinned, a genuine one that was reserved for his closest friends and family, so many David and Ophelia. It honestly hadn’t taken much wheedling to get Cordelia to tell him the password for the Prefects’ bathroom, because, as Ophelia said, he was the redhead’s favorite. Danny wasn’t entirely sure as to why ‘delia treated him a bit differently than any of her other siblings or cousins aside from maybe she had initially felt sorry for him. When he had first lost his dad, everyone had tread around him like they were walking on eggshells, constantly afraid of setting him off. Cordelia, on the other hand, had continued to act like Danny was still just Danny. She was obviously sad about his dad and mourning the loss of an uncle but she had never lowered her voice when speaking to him or quietly told the others that maybe he didn’t feel like playing right that moment. No, Cordelia had been just as boisterous, bossy, and overbearing as she’d always been. She hadn’t allowed him to sit alone with his thoughts for too long, dragging him out of the house to go flying or ambushing him with a squirt gun until he was laughing as they raced about the yard. David and Ophelia would forever be his absolute best mates, but Cordelia would always be his third. They simply understood each other and that was enough. “It’s not my fault she likes me best. See you in a bit!” The blond called to his Hufflepuff counterpart as they parted ways, heading in opposite directions to retrieve their swim gear.

“I was alright, but others were loads better.” Danny shook his head, knowing that it was unlikely either of them would make first string with how many skilled fliers had tried out this year, but at least they would probably get second. They hadn’t been the worst at least, but that was to be expected with the amount of training Cordelia had put them through when they’d expressed interest in trying out this year. She wouldn’t do to have her family embarrassing her on the pitch otherwise, to ‘sully the name Stonefyre is known for when it comes to Quidditch’ even if Danny was technically a ‘Cathers’. “I guess I was fast, but that’s not super remarkable or anything. Loads of people are fast. You were brilliant though. Your aim has gotten so good, that pass you made to Westley? Bam! Practically flew right into his hand! He didn’t have to do anything but wait.”

When they arrived at Gryffindor Tower, Danny promised to wait for Ophelia as he headed up the boys’ stairs to his own dorm. It took several long minutes of digging through the debris inside of his trunk to locate his swimming shorts, having not really known if they’d be of any use to him until at least May, if that. It was always worth packing them just in case though. Having grown up just a short walk from a lake, Danny had never underestimated the possibility of swimming, even here at school where it was typically too cold to do so. The ones in his trunk just stayed there, always ready but this also meant they tended to end up on the very bottom beneath the rest of his school things. Most of his stuff ended up on his bed as he dug, finally locating the shorts in the deepest recesses of his trunk. They were wrinkled but still in good condition, dark blue and boasting a spiderweb across one leg and his favorite superhero on the other. Some of the other boys had made fun of him in the past for the Spiderman shirts he wore when he wasn’t in his robes or the fact that his pillow case (made by his Grammy) had the character on it, but he had tried not to care too much. Davie had said they were just jealous of how cool his taste was and anyone who liked Batman better could do something neither of their mothers would have liked hearing come out of his mouth.

Stripping off his clothes, Danny grimaced at the smell of his shirt. Davie was right, it stunk and there were sweat stains in both the pits and starting to form on the back. He didn’t bother with a shower though, knowing that he’d get clean enough swimming around in a tub full of bubble potions with a bit of scrubbing. He wasn’t worried about it anyway, not when it was just going to be with his best mates. They might give him a bit of shit for smelling, but it would only be good natured teasing, nothing genuinely meant to hurt his feelings. He did pluck a few feathers from his hair though and find a clean shirt to tug on to go with his shorts. Those were a bit of a different story though. Once on, Danny’s swim trunks felt a little… tight. Not uncomfortably so, but in the manner that clothes one has started to outgrow become. Just a little bit at the seams. The waist was fine but looking down, Danny found that the length no longer reached his knees but rather, was a decent bit shorter than the last time he’d put this particular pair of shorts on. The still covered everything properly, they were just… Well, he was taller now, he supposed. They could probably be lengthened with a bit of magic, considering they were still in good shape. It didn’t matter at the moment though, he was just going to swim with David and Ophelia. Opting for pulling on some sweatpants over his shorts for warmth in the chilly castle, David grabbed his toiletry bag and headed back downstairs to the common room to wait for Ophelia. It took her a bit longer to join him, and her hair was wet when she did, indicating that she had, at least, bothered with an actual shower to get the majority of try-outs off of her. Danny looked down at himself, wondering if maybe he should have done the same after all before shaking his head. No. He was going to be swimming in a giant bath tub, what was the point in washing up beforehand? Girls were just… weird like that. Just like how Ophelia had gone upstairs in what had been a decent mood and come back down looking the opposite. Danny frowned.

“You know, even if we don’t make it, there’s always next year.” The Gryffindor said as consolingly as he could manage, figuring that Ophelia was overthinking things again. “But you’ll make it, for sure.” He was certain of that. She had worked so hard and done so well at the try outs, it would be an absolute sin if she didn’t at least get picked for second string. Shouldering his bag again, Danny pushed out through the portrait hole and led the way down the corridor. It didn’t take long to reach the statue and David, who was waiting and bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

“Finally! You two took forever. Let’s go.”

“It’s this one.” Danny indicated the fourth door from the statue by walking over to it. “Lemon verbena.” The door clicked and Danny pushed it open, revealing the large room made almost entirely of white marble. It was already warm, heated by magic to make it comfortable for whomever was using it. Danny headed inside, waited for his mates, and then shut the door, locking it so no one would bother them. It was unlikely anyone would be popping by at this hour anyway and Cordelia had said if the room was occupied, the password wouldn’t work again until they left anyway.

“It’s huge.” David said in awe, turning his head every which way as he began to strip off his own sweats to reveal his swim trunks. His were the ones he’d been wearing over the past summer and were shorter, but not as short as Danny’s had gotten. He set his things off to the sides and began turning on the taps along the edge of the tub, starting with the water and then the bubbles, his curiosity obvious. “Ooo, Fifi! Look, these ones are pink and shaped like flowers! Smells like… hibiscus?”

Danny, forgetting about how much he stank and the length of his shorts, tugged off his clothes as well and headed for the opposite row of taps. He turned one and laughed as a giant plume of thick white foam pressed free, looking all the world like it could have been related to whipped cream.

“C’mon, Fifi! Let’s try them all.” David laughed, turning on another tap to see what bubbles it made before shutting it off again and moving on to the next.

The Try-Outs

“You ready for this Stonefyre?”

It was a bright October morning, just enough of a chill in the air to make it nice for a comfortable hoodie without overheating like they might have several weeks ago in early September. School had begun the same as always, but along with it came the fact that, like always, this year’s third years were taking on more of a workload than they had previously. New classes introduced on top of all their core required ones but also more opportunities for things than they had had before. Like Quidditch. It was rare for anyone under the third year to get chosen for the team and if they were, they were typically on the second string of back-up players for if a game ran too long or someone got too injured to continue which was always a real possibility. There had been plenty of excitement as well as nerves running wild in the Gryffindor third year dorms the night before with the knowledge that the team’s try-outs were starting in the morning. Not every single third year would be trying out, of course, but a fair few of them planned on it and their friends had built them up with anticipation. Currently, the wind was blowing just enough to kick up slightly long honey blonde locks and dark curls, pink ribbons dancing as several of the third years made their way down the well trodden path that led to the Quidditch pitch. A pair of identical green-eyed boys and a slightly smaller brunette girl sticking close enough together that their shoulders would bump into one another without any kind of thought to it. They had always been connected in a way, first by family and age, and then through a friendship that had simply grown as they had. It was Danny who had spoken, a bit of a crooked but otherwise nervous grin on his face as he bumped his elbow gently into Ophelia’s shoulder. They were both Gryffindors, trying out together, and while they hadn’t exactly always gotten along very well and Danny still got a great deal of fun picking on her, they were definitely friends, especially when it came down to such important things like this. Their third was their shared cousin, David, sunny and bright as he bounced along with encouraging words, his smile reassuring as he told them over and over how well they were going to do. Being in Hufflepuff, he technically wasn’t supposed to be attending the Gryffindor tryouts so no possible team secrets would be given away to a different house. He would most likely have to say goodbye once they reached the pitch, but Danny and Ophelia would still have each other if things went south.

The closer they got to the pitch the more Danny’s stomach began to swirl with uncomfortable anxiety. He knew that if he wanted on the team, then he had to try out for it like everybody else. He had been reassured over the summer by Ophelia’s older sister Cordelia who was currently a sixth year on the team and had been since her second year, which was rare, that he was going to do just fine. They had practiced together plenty over the summer with each other and with their shared aunt who was a professional Beater. Ophelia had joined them, but she was aiming more for a Chaser position, her body small enough to whip under and over and through other people with more ease than someone taller would have, able to squish herself down closer to her broom. It was a good skill to have and Auntie Ember had worked with her just as much, trying her best to make her feel more sure of herself. Now, the day of reckoning had come and whatever result they got… well, it would be a yes or a no. They could always try out again next year when they were older if they didn’t make it on this year. More practice, more perseverance and determination to do better the second time. Danny was worried, already knowing that there were several other students who had their eye on the open Beater position he was aiming for. Ophelia would also have her work cut out for her, so even though he was smiling at her as he asked if she was ready, underneath it was nervousness swimming in his eyes. He knew his friend would also be feeling the same, because even if she tried not to show it too often, all three of them knew she was as soft and squishy as a marshmallow on the inside.

As they reached the entrance to the pitch, David waved goodbye, saying that he’d be back around lunch to see how things were going. Try outs could take most of the day depending on how many people were there and what kind of plays the captain had decided to run them through in order to locate the best players. There would be about an hour break around noon for lunch and then back to business. As the day went on, people would be cut out based on skill, leaving only the most promising prospects battling it out until either enough people had been cut or it was time for dinner and the captain would convene with the rest of the players already on the team to discuss who would be the best fit. A sheet would be hung up in the common room within a few days, letting them know who got what, both first and second strings and then, if need be, a third back up if anything happened to the others. Usually they were only needed if someone had been injured severely enough to be unable to play but even then, with magic and their fantastic matron, most of those kinds of things tended to be fairly easy to fix with a potion or spell and a good night’s rest.

Stepping out onto the pitch, his broomstick over his shoulder, Danny found that there were at least two dozen other people here waiting for things to get started. They were chattering, some wishing each other good luck, others glaring from one group at another as if daring them to even try to beat them. A need to prove themselves, to show what they were really made of, tended to be a common trait among Gryffindor house, but so was friendly competition. Danny stayed close to Ophelia as they joined several of the other third years who were feeling ballsy enough to give it a go. He didn’t speak to any of them aside, giving a simple head nod of acknowledgment considering he shared a dorm with most of these guys. He wasn’t super friendly with them, but he didn’t tend to be a dick either, kind of keeping to himself. It was easier that way, not getting close to anyone and simply sticking with his family. With the people who already knew and weren’t going to start asking questions if they noticed that something seemed to be up with him. Like why he would sometimes miss classes for a couple of days without getting in trouble for skipping and no amount of asking ever did anyone any good. Danny certainly wasn’t going to be telling them, and neither were Danny or Ophelia or any of her siblings. Even her little brother who had just begun his first year hadn’t spilled the truth when it had been brought up in conversation. It simply just was and while it felt ‘unfair’ that he got away with it, none of the professors seemed to think anything of it either.

“They’re all just as nervous.” Danny whispered, leaning in to tell Ophelia without anyone else really overhearing him. He could hear several conversations going on all at once, honing in on one and then another, until the noise died down as the captain finally came out of the locker room followed by the remaining members of last year’s team. Cordelia’s red hair was easy to spot, always kind of wild and as unruly as she tended to be. Danny’s nerves lessened ever so slightly. While Cordelia was hard on him when they were training, she was also someone he could rely on to tell things to him honestly without worrying about protecting his feelings.

“We’re going to start with just a few basic drills to test how well you all do on a broom and then move on to the separate positions. After lunch, we’ll scrimmage.” The captain announced, holding up her clipboard. “Let’s start with Reed, Patterson, O’Connell, Stonefyre, and Thomas. This end of the pitch, we’re going to send your through some obstacles but you won’t know what they are until you get to them. The rest of you lot need to go sit in the locker room so you can’t cheat, I’ll call you each out by group as we proceed.”

Danny looked at Ophelia who seemed to be momentarily frozen in place. He reached out, giving a tug on one of her pigtails, not as hard as he might have when they were five but definitely enough to get her attention and a mild look of irritation. He smiled, just a little, finding the familiarness soothing. “Good luck.”

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Always

A/N:  Feedback. Reblogs appreciated, thanks!

Pairings/Characters: Peter Parker x Reader (Andrew Garfield’s Peter)

Warnings: Swearing, daddy issues, violence, possible character death, Tony being annoying

Summary: Hate was a strong word, so it was safe to say that Obadiah Stane despised you.

This is definitely post-college, adult Spider-Man

Previous Chapter: The Stark Playbook

WC: 5,230

Your life was now an annoying hell. All those schools that had rejected you were blowing up your phone constantly, trying to entice you to say that you weren’t rejected, but that you just didn’t want to go so that they wouldn’t look bad for taking bribes and denying a promising student entrance to their school. Even the many, many companies that you had applied to were scrambling now, trying to offer you positions within their company so they could say they had a living, breathing Stark in their midsts. Your current place of business? Well, their stock skyrocketed and was definitely leaving that ‘startup’ status with every passing second.

The responsible thing for a person to do would have been to send those SHIELD guys a very direct e-mail containing all of Obadiah’s misdeeds, and how he was engaged in trade with terrorists against the very people the company was supposed to be supporting and keeping safe with their weaponry.  The responsible thing would have been to send this to the proper authorities to deal with things quickly and quietly.

You didn’t really do the responsible thing.

You, a pretend anonymous source, proceeded to float this around on the internet and label Obadiah Stane as public enemy number one. It was an act laced with petty intent. Your father would be proud. Your mother, on the other hand?

“Three hours with your father and you turn into him,” She whined as she stood behind you. You were in her apartment, head on the table listening to her go on and on for the past hour on how you were making things worse. After hitting the buzzer for the lobby door, she draped her body over yours, head resting on top of your head as she sighed dramatically, grabbed your head, and started rocking the two of you side to side, which kind of felt like she was trying to decorate the table with your face. “I worked so hard to get the Stark out of those genes.”

“Mom,” you whined. “Stop! I think this is considered smothering in at least five states.”

“Smothering with love,” she replied as the front door opened to reveal Peter walking in with a black plastic bag. “Peter, is this murder?”

“Uh,” Peter stopped short and stared at the two of you for a moment. “With love?”

“See?” Rosa smirked and got off of you, moving to take the bag from Peter. “Thank you for running to the store for me, Peter. That was very sweet of you.”

“Well, you said those agents always get the wrong thing. I didn’t mind getting you what you needed,” he replied as he sat down next to you. “Is she dead?”

“She basically said I’m too much like my dad,” you sat up and looked at Peter who was now looking at the ceiling. “What’s that face, young man?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just looking at this crown molding and really admiring it,” Peter lied as he stared up. “I mean, white? It’s so crisp and clean. Is that eggshell? Bright white?”

Rosa chuckled to herself as she placed a snack on the table for the two of you, “See that? He agrees.”

You whined loudly as Peter poured you a drink and placed the glass in front of you, “Why am I here, again?”

“You wanted my opinion on apartments,” Rosa said as she sat down beside you and swore as she heard her phone ringing. “Shit. Sorry. I need to grab that, it might be my client for later. Do you mind?”

You waved your hand. Rosa took her phone and went to her bedroom to take the call while Peter scooted closer to you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Hear anything from Tony?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head, “Not a word. Happy called to make sure I was okay. Apparently, since they hadn’t heard from me for a week, they assumed I was dead.”

“That’ll do it,” Peter nodded. “They find Obadiah?”

“Nope. You find the suit?”

“Nope,” Peter cleared his throat. “How mad do you think your dad is?”

You shrugged, “Who cares?”

“Not you, according to your lies,” Peter whispered to you, narrowly missing the elbow you threw to his gut. He chuckled and nuzzled your neck with the tip of his nose, giggling to himself when your face scrunched up and you moved away because it tickled too much.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Rosa said as she rushed out of the bedroom and grabbed her purse. “My client needs to change their appointment and I have to leave now. Are you guys okay to wait about an hour, maybe two?”

“Sure,” Peter said. “But is it safe for you to go?”

“Oh, those lazy ass agents are going with me. It’s the least they can do since they seem to screw everything else up. Bye, bye!” She quickly kissed you and Peter on your cheeks before rushing out the apartment.

You were now stuck in your mom’s apartment alone with your boyfriend with a crazed lunatic out there, completely lost in the wind. You swore that you didn’t matter at this point. The fight was now between Tony and Obadiah. You had no stake, shares, nothing in the company.  Okay. Maybe you did release all his misdoings to the public, but, I mean. That could have just as easily been Tony, right?

You looked to Peter who was giving you a mischievous grin. He scooted closer to you, pulling your chair towards him and spreading his legs so they went around your seat. Laughing, you tried moving away, but Peter grabbed your biceps and pulled you close to pepper your neck with lots of little soft kisses, his lips curling into a grin as he listened to you shriek with laughter.

“Peter, please!” You laughed. “This isn’t fair, it’s cheating!”

“Not sure what you’re talking about, sweetheart, I’m just showing you how much I love you,” he said as he finally relented and rested his head on the back of the chair while he gazed at you. “You know, the usual.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“That I do,” you mumbled and leaned down to softly press your lips against his. Pulling away, you bit your lip and studied him.

“What, what’s that face?” Peter frowned. “That’s your weird little thinking face.”

“It’s not weird!”

“It gets weird when you pair it with you being hungry.”

You pouted while he laughed at you. Shaking your head, you continued, “Should I check on him? Just in case?”

“Oh, no somebody wants to check on the dad they don’t care about?”

“Want is a strong word. I was just — I wasn’t being considerate. I’m doing it for self-preservation reasons.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter smirked knowingly. “Call. What’s the harm, right?”

You nodded. You didn’t have Tony’s number, but you had Happy’s, and you knew he was around Tony far more often than usual given the current situation. You gave him a call. It rang and rang, but no answer. You tried to hide how disappointed you were by just shrugging and putting the phone away, but Peter could see right through the act. He frowned a little for you, and rubbed your back soothingly before muttering that Tony was fine. 

Naturally, you proclaimed you didn’t care. 

To get your mind off of this, you and Peter took to watching a movie together. You curled up on her sofa, ate snacks, and waited for Rosa’s return before the three of you looked at apartments together. With a few in mind, and some appointments in place, you said goodbye to your mom and were on your way home.

But, of course, you couldn’t forget the SHIELD agents that were following your every move. It even made being Spider-Man a little tricky for Peter. But, to be honest, he didn’t mind the challenge. It was almost like an extra activity for him to do, like he was playing ‘hide from the agents.’ You admired him for that. He made the best out this insane situation.

The car you were in turned down a quiet block, and Peter’s spider senses when off immediately. His eyes widened as he muttered for you to grab your stun gun before leaning forward and telling the driver not to go down this block, but it was too late. You were going down the block, and up ahead a black SUV pulled out from the parking lot just a few meters down.

Meanwhile, you had been searching your purse for your stun gun. It was always in the same exact spot, same pocket, never any issue, but you couldn’t find it today. You panicked as you kept searching and turned your purse inside out in the car. As you were searching through the bag, you remembered how you took your stun gun out in the middle of the night in the hotel when you heard Tony was in trouble.

And you left in that room.

You haven’t had it since that night. You completely forgot you chucked it at an assassin’s head and left it behind. All this time you thought you had your favorite, trusty little stun gun, and you didn’t.

“Peter, I don’t have it. I lost it,” you said quickly.

Peter swore. Before he could act, your boyfriend’s eyes were suddenly bloodshot. He slumped backwards in his seat, veins bulging and appearing blue as his waterline was red-rimmed. Blood fell from his ears as he lay there absolutely still.

“Peter!” You shouted and went to check on him, but suddenly a device flew into the window. It was a small cylinder with glowing blue lights. The second you noticed it, you too fell back into your seat in the same position as Peter, bulging blue veins, watery, red-rimmed eyes, and blood dripping down from your ears. 

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, but you couldn’t see it. Only Peter could see, and lay helplessly, as a bullet went through the windshield and struck the SHIELD agent in the center of his forehead. Peter wanted to scream. He was trapped in his own body and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was lay there helplessly, What was going to happen to you? The worst he feared was that he’d have to watch you die. He couldn’t do that. Not again. Not to another person he loved. He didn’t think he was strong enough to deal with that.

Suddenly, the passenger side door opened next to you. Peter couldn’t even scream. All he could do was look as Obadiah lowered his head and looked inside the car, a smirk on his face, earplugs in place to avoid whatever it was that was hurting the two of them.

“Don’t panic, kids. It’s just a paralytic, it’ll be gone in about fifteen minutes, give or take.” Obadiah turned you over so you were facedown on the seat, making direct eye contact with Peter as he yanked your hands behind your back and pulled out a zip tie. “You know. I was going to leave you alone. I thought that all I really needed was Tony, and then you had to go and put all my business out there, you stupid, annoying little bitch. Just like your pain in the ass father, ruining everything I worked for. I built that god damn company myself while he was wiping snot from his nose and fucking your mother!”

Peter watched as Obadiah pulled you back up into a sitting position. He pulled so you were leaning back against his shoulder as he took out a cloth and tied it around your mouth. Neither one of you could do a damn thing but let Obadiah do what he was going to do. You two were utterly helpless.

“Now, let’s see what daddy thinks about this,” Obadiah propped you against him, pressed his face against yours, and took a picture of the two of you together. You lay against him as he sent the photo to Tony before chucking the phone at Peter. It smacked him in the chest, then fell on his lap before sliding down onto the seat. “I thought about killing you too, kid. But you’re just some harmless little worm that has no idea what he got himself into. So you’re gonna relay a message for me.  When Tony comes around, tell him he’ll know where to find me, where it all began.”

Peter could do nothing. When Obadiah disappeared from his line of sight, you were dragged out of the car. Peter could hear a grunt as Obadiah heaved you over his shoulder to take you away.  Peter didn’t know how you disappeared. He assumed it would be into a vehicle, but he couldn’t hear one leave. He was frantic. How could this happen right in front of him? Was he really that weak that yet another one of his girlfriends had to die because he just wasn’t good enough?

Peter overcame the paralytic faster than Obadiah said he would, but it was still a waste of precious minutes he could’ve used to find you. He chalked that up to his healing factor, and blamed his heightened senses for succumbing to it before it had even entered the vehicle. Peter threw the car door open and took a big gulp of air as he collapsed onto the asphalt, Obadiah’s phone in hand as he looked around frantically and saw no sight of you. As he was gaining his strength and trying to get himself to stand up, a large hunk of red and gold metal landed in front of him. Peter slowly looked up to see a faceplate lift off of this massive metal suit and reveal Tony’s face.

Peter balked, “the hell���?”

“Parker,” Tony said quickly. “Where is she?”

Peter coughed and tried to stand, so Tony grabbed him by the arm with ease and pulled him up off the ground. “Obadiah got her. Said you’d know to find her, where it all began.”

Tony swore under his breath, “First Rosa, now this.”

Peter frowned, “Rosa?”

Tony’s saw tightened before he spoke, “I went by Rosa’s apartment to check on her. Happy missed a call earlier, I traced it back there. Those agents are dead and Rosa’s gone. Traced you guys back here when Obadiah sent the photo.”

“He’s gonna kill her,” Peter said as he finally regained his strength, pushed away from Tony, and grabbed his backpack out of the car. He shook his head and reached up with the back of his hand to wipe the tears that accidentally spilled from his eyes as he took a deep inhale and started walking out of the street towards the alleyway. “I gotta stop him.”

Tony watched Peter with interest as the man pulled out his mask, slipped it on, and ripped off his clothes to shove into his backpack, leaving him in just his suit. He webbed the backpack up and away from prying eyes before spinning around and pointing a finger at Tony, “‘Where it all began,’ where is that?”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t —“

“Well, think, Tony!” Peter snapped. “Think, because I cannot lose someone, not again. I can’t keep losing people.”

“Look, you’re not the only one who’s lost people. Got it?” Tony retorted as the faceplate of his helmet came down. “I was losing people before you could find your own dick. You think I don’t want to find them? That’s my daughter and her mother. I tried so hard to keep anything like this from happening.”

“Then where would Obadiah take them?” Peter repeated. “You’ve gotta know, Tony. You have to know something because I’m not losing her. I’m putting him in the ground.”

“Not if I get there first,” Tony muttered. “The old Stark Expo Center. I used it as a testing zone for my arc reactor before I built the one in Malibu. You know where it is —“

“Yeah. I know Queens like the back of my hand,” Peter started running before he jumped into the air and immediately started to swing away. “Try to keep up, old man.”

~*~

You were trapped, and there was nothing you could do about it. The extra portion of pain that added onto this experience was the fact that a few feet of away, your mother was restrained against a pillar just like you were. The two of you were below ground of the former Stark Expo Center,  both of you restrained to pillars several feet away from each other while Obadiah sat behind a desk, shoving what looked to be something similar to Tony’s chest piece into this massive, hulking suit, while Tony’s original suit sat off in the corner.

The suit hummed as it came to life, eyes glowing a pale blue/white color. You looked up at this giant machine before looking to Obadiah and watching as a content, devious smile graced his lips.

“To think that we almost missed out on this moment, you guys.” Obadiah laughed as he turned around to stare at the two of you. “I mean, hell, Rosa, I never had a problem with you. I respected you, actually. You got yours, and you did your own thing.” 

He chuckled to himself as he continued, “I don’t know if you guys know this, but I told Tony to make sure you creamed that baby the second you could. Another Stark running around, distracting him, causing mayhem in the press? Stark Industries couldn’t handle that while it was recovering from Howard and Maria’s deaths. It just couldn’t. But Rosa’s a champ, popped out a kid, went to New York, kept it strictly business. I admired that, Rosa. I did. It makes this so much more difficult.”

Without a second of hesitation, Obadiah lifted the gun off the desk and fired one shot into Rosa’s chest. The woman’s eyes widened as the bullet made impact, and she looked down to see her blouse darkening as blood poured from her exit wound. You were screaming under your gag as you were forced to watch your mother die in front of you.

Obadiah turned his gun towards you and fired, but it was empty. He swore and chucked the gun to the side before turning around and climbing into his brand new suit. “There was a moment where I thought about repeating this all over again with you, kid. Kill off your dad, keep you around. Imagine that, a woman legacy taking over? It wouldn’t last long, but it would’ve made the company look so damn good following Tony’s death, real progressive and stuff.”

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at him through your tears as his suit came to life and he raised one arm to aim the rotary gun attachment at you. Obadiah chuckled, “But you’re annoying. Like your dumb, stupid, arrogant father. You went ahead and ruined everything. You could’ve lived. You really could’ve, but now? Now I’m going to make sure your father gets a good look at his legacy — whatever’s left over, at least.”

You heard the gun power up and shut your eyes before you could see the bullets flying. Once you heard them, you shuddered, expecting the rip of hot metal through your flesh, but it never came. You heard a loud pang and opened your eyes to see a red and gold suit holding Obadiah’s arm and aiming it up at the ceiling.

What moron could possibly be floating around now in an annoying, ostentatious red and gold suit?

Obadiah shook off Tony and launched him across the facility. He turned his attention towards you once again and aimed his guns, but nothing ever came. A web grabbed the arm and yanked the hulking suit forward. From the darkness, you could see Spider-Man yanking the suit towards him just so he could drop kick him in the chest with enough force, you thought he broke the suit.

Obadiah was launched backwards to be grabbed around the middle by Tony, who flew towards him with enough force that it sent the both of them through several walls.

When Spider-Man landed, he looked to your mother and shot a quick web to her chest before running to you and breaking your bonds. You yanked off your gag and went running to your mother who had lost consciousness during this fight.

“My mom, my mom, Peter, my mom!” You repeated this over and over again as your hands shook while you untied her.

“I know, I know.” He said quickly as he helped you and gingerly lifted her up.

There was a brief moment where he was furious.  Peter didn’t want this to be an actual fight. Peter yearned for it to be a slaughter, where he’d run over there, rip Obadiah out of the suit, and break him in half like he’d done to Rhino years and years ago. Peter was livid. Obadiah took something from Peter that was finally bringing him happiness, making him feel alive, making him want to live as Peter, and not just Spider-Man. Obadiah almost took everything away from him, and that man was responsible for the tears you were shedding and the blood your mother was losing. Peter wanted to kill him, but he couldn’t.

“Look at me,” He grabbed your shoulder in one hand and turned you to face him. “I need you to take deep breaths because I need you calm when I Get you out of here.”

“We can’t just leave him —“

“Tony will take care of it,” he replied rapidly. “You’re not safe. She’s dying. We have to go now! Do you understand? I need to get the two of you out of here now.”

Hesitating, you nodded. You  climbed onto his back while he kept your mom steady in his arms. He assured you that she was still alive, and that all he had to do was get her to the nearest hospital. He repeated to you that she would be okay as he took a running start, jumped into the air, and started to swing away with the two of you. 

As he was swinging away, Obadiah was on the chase. He caught them from the corner of his eye, and after assuming he finished off Tony, he went after Spider-Man. Racing towards him, it was now a horrible rendition of Jaws up in the air as he surged towards the three of you. He fired his mini gun at the three of you, and Peter was swinging frantically to avoid it the closer that man got. He only had one arm since he was carrying your mother, and he needed to make sure he could swing away and get you to safety.

But you knew it too. You knew if Peter couldn’t get you all out in that moment, your mom wasn’t going to make it. You craned your neck to look over your shoulder and see Obadiah getting closer, and you could feel Peter’s shoulders tense.

“Don’t you dare do that,” Peter said quickly, a crack in his voice as he kept swinging. “Don’t. Just hold on. I can do this.”

“I know,” you replied. “And I want to make sure that you do.”

“Y/N, please. I can’t lose you,” Peter replied. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You won’t have to,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you thought about your mom, and everything she’d done, all the grief she’d taken from you over the years as you grew up with her being your one and only rock all this time. “But I need her.”

“No!”

You launched off of Peter’s back. The action sent him further ahead, while it sent you right into an unexpecting Obadiah’s suit. You grabbed onto his head and had a brief, brief second of wondering if you were actually very, very stupid and not at all the genius you were expected to be. Carefully, you were looking for gaps in his suit, and you realized you could start to take pieces apart while you were on him.

You maneuvered so you were on his back, and whatever popped out you would use brute strength, or find something loose, or a gap, or any sort of opening and start to tinker with it while you were on him. Your fingertips were bleeding and your nails were breaking, but you were twisting off one of his shoulder missiles with ease, the thought of jamming it in his face keeping you going.

Suddenly, Obadiah was flying backwards with the intent of slamming you into a wall and turning you into pudding. You quickly let go and began to fall towards the ground. At this height, depending on how you’d landed, you’d either break a leg or break your neck. Thankfully, neither happened. Tony swooped in and caught you and started flying away as Obadiah chased the two of you.

“Why the hell aren’t you with Spider-Man?” Tony seethed. “You, young lady, are in serious trouble. I think you should be grounded, actually.”

“He shot mom,” you explained. “He shot her, and she needs help, and I knew he needed time to get out so —“

“So you used yourself as distraction,” Tony huffed. “You’re annoying.”

“Fuck you. You’re annoying,” You snapped.

“Well, okay. Maybe instead of being so annoying, you can help me,” Tony began as he took evasive maneuvers with you. “You know your hacking shit, right?”

“I don’t think there’s a wi-fi connection here to do whatever hacking you have in mind.”

“There’s one,” Tony offered. I’m running out of power here, kid. I need you to hijack his suit from that computer. You shut it down, I’m gonna shove him into the core right there. You’re gonna turn that on, and we’re going to blow his bitch ass to hell.”

“Are you….fucking crazy?”

“If I can make a suit of armor to save my life, you can hack his and save all of our asses. Brace yourself!”

Tony quite literally dumped you by the computer before he spun around and went right back to fighting Obadiah. You watched as he was getting pummeled to death, the two of them going head to head which distracted you before oyu realized what you needed to do. Taking deep breaths, you sat down and started typing away on this old ass computer, muttering that it was a wonder anything worked here after being neglected for years. Then you quickly figured that this prototype, the early arc reactor to power the facility, this computer setup, it must have all been in use enough for Obadiah to get his suit made.

While you were typing, the screen suddenly flickered and went black. You swore and started mashing buttons in a panic to get any sort of response. After a moment, you realized you were seeing everything from Obadiah’s point of view. You were in his suit.

“Oh, eat shit and die, fucker.” You muttered to yourself as you took over.

Taking over his suit, you reached over to another computer to turn on the arc reactor and throw it into maximum power. You focused on the computer, typing frantically as Obadiah tried to fight your controls. You flew him directly into the reactor and shut your eyes as he started screaming in agony while the power surged through his body.

Tony flew over and landed on top of you to shield you, assuming it’d be enough to take the power and keep you both safe. However, one man did not assume that Tony could possibly keep the both of you alive, and in the blink of an eye, Spider-Man was back and carrying you both away as the facility blew up, taking Obadiah Stane with it.

The three of you landed on top of one of the buildings. Tony rolled onto his back, huffing and puffing after ripping off his helmet and staring at the sky. You unshielded your head and looked up to see Peter yanking off his mask and collapsing on the ground to pull you into him. Forehead resting against yours, his body shuddered as he shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“I’m hoping I won’t have to,” you mumbled as you hugged him tightly. “Thanks for the save, again, Peter.”

“Always, Y/N,” he kissed the top of your head and held you close for a moment. The two of you quiet in each other’s embrace as the adrenaline slowly started to leave the both of you.

“My mom?”

“Surgery,” he explained. “I will take you to her the second you’re ready.”

You cringed, “How’s it looking?”

Peter’s jaw tightened, “It’s…serious.”

You nodded slowly at first as you tried to remain positive. You slowly stood up with Peter’s help, and turned to see your father standing there and just watching the two of you like he was trying to freeze this moment in his brain forever. You walked towards Tony and stared up at him, your mouth contorting into a puckered look on the side of your face as you struggled with what to say.

Tony nodded once, “Good to see you’re not dead, spawn.”

Holding back the urge to find a reason to yell at him or insult him, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his middle, the side of your face resting against the cool, dirty metal as you hugged him. “Thanks for the save, dad.”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat, which, at the moment, made him think he was dying yet again. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he stared down at you and saw what he’d been missing out on for over two decades of your life.

“Just doing what I promised your mother, to keep you safe and out of this.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, yeah, you saw the future here?”

“Actually, yes, I predicted the entire thing and chose to ignore it,” he quipped.”

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered as you pulled away.

“Guys?” Peter pulled on his mask after peering over the edge of the building. “Got some unmarked vans pulling up.”

Tony looked over and squinted, then caught another car that was very familiar to him as three people stepped out of it. “Those are SHIELD agents. I’ll go down and deal with them. Get her to the hospital, Parker. Make sure she gets looked at too. We’ll meet you there. I’ll fly in my own surgeons if I have to.”

“On it,” Peter nodded and grabbed you around the waist, “Ready?”

You looked over at Tony who gave you a nod. Hesitantly, you nodded and draped your arms around Peter’s shoulders so he could swing away with you. In the meantime, Tony flew over and dropped down in front of the SHIELD agents, Happy, Pepper, and Rhodes. Everyone bombarded him with questions, and Tony held his hand up.

“Before we get to all that, I need to change out of this suit. My balls are drowning in sweat, and I have a baby mama to keep alive.”

[yandere-vale]

Yandere Ororo Munroe/Storm Headcanons.

Warning: Normal yandere stuff but you should know that if you read my writing anyways.

This is for The-Broken-Truth! Thank you for the request!

(I move like a snail in the winter! Hope this meets your expectations! Sorry for being late!)

"Do not worry little one, you are safe here...safe with me. The world out there is scared of us..fears us. But here..I won't let anything hurt you."

Storm has always been a role model for the students of the Xavier Institute and many students(even though they would never openly admit it) see her as a motherly figure in their lives. And why wouldn't she be? Storm is caring, intelligent, confident, strong, and brave. Always willing to put herself between anything that puts those she cares about in danger.

You don't know how important you are to Storm's mental stability. Her powers are tied directly to her emotional state and the only thing that and keep her calm is you. Storm constantly worries about you when you aren't with her, hell it's even the same when you two are together. Worries and self-doubts always flow like crashing water through her mind about everything and anything she does or says.

Did her words offend you? Do you want her to come closer? Further? Do you hate her? Do you love her? It's a never ending stream of worries that keep her on edge or at least speed her towards the cliff of the unthinkable. She needs you to be safe if she ever hopes for her thoughts to simmer down. Storm is careful as much as she can be with keeping her powers in check, normally what gives her emotional state away is the flickering of any lights nearby.

Storm would instantly take the spot as your mentor and only teacher once she's informed that you have powers just like her. She can't have someone rough like Logan or as careless as Scott to look after you. She needs to be the one to have you in her line of sight at all times. She does this by taking the spot of a mother figure for you as many mutants have issues with their parents; being the common reason for them to arrive at the institute.

Why isn't she teaching you the cooler things of controlling the weather? It's a question you want to ask her because when she's teaching you, she never ventures into the 'scary' side of the weather. Focusing on cloud shifting and making it rain(but only lightly.) When you do ask or try and voice your concerns she all but throws out the victim card. You know about how she was manipulated and used in the past and she always voices her worries of someone(not her) manipulating you. She tells you that she's only doing this because she wants to make you prepared for when you are ready to face the outside world. It will just be when SHE'S ready for you to face it.

You like how Storm is so willing to care and teach you how to better use your power but her..behaviour is a fair bit odd. You like the help she's always so willing to give but it feels like she's hovering around you, waiting for the second she can step in and take over the situation. On one hand she's stopped you from being bullied and is always there when you need some comfort in. But you find yourself feeling odd around her. You actually end up feeling like walking on eggshells because you've seen her anger flare and the lights pop and shattering.

In this school only one person can really help you with the concerns you have, Professor X. It's not like he hasn't been aware of all that's been going on either. From Storm's racing thoughts that grow more and more concerning as the weeks pass, to how uncomfortable you were getting due to the cracks in her behaviour. If he was your normal every day person, he might have a talk with Storm about how she's acting. He might, but he won't. He's a smart man and it doesn't take him long to weight the options he has in front of him. And, he's figured that it's much easier to 'smooth the edges' of the worries you've been feeling.

You aren't even aware of the mentally tampering going on in your mind. You can't even remember why you had been stressed out. Xavier only feels a small amount of remorse in his part in all of this but it's not like it can be helped. He has many things on his plate and the feelings and emotions of two single people isn't something he wants to waste time on. He'll try to talk to her about calming down but if it works is all up to luck.

Either way you have the love of one of the world's strongest mutants even if you never asked for it. As long as you can 'weather' the 'storm' is all up to how strong you really are.

[humansofnewyork]

“He could be loving. At least for a couple weeks a month. But then his pain pill prescription would run out, and things would get very tense. We were constantly walking on eggshells. Occasionally there’d be a flash of violence, but I’d only see some of that. Because my mom would always defuse the situation. She played the role of the nurturing wife, making his dinner, rubbing his feet, doing things around the house. One night when I was fourteen, I was getting ready for bed when I heard a loud thud. It was an intentional overdose. He flatlined on the way to the hospital, and he only survived because of the paramedics. A month later my mother found drugs again, and finally kicked him out of the house. She started working three jobs to support us. She’d get up at 5 in the morning to do janitorial work. Then she’d go to the library. And then the grocery store. But she still found time to encourage me in my schoolwork and support me through university. Recently I finished my first year as a resident physician, and my mom came out for a visit. We rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We spent hours in the hot tub every night. And I’m not sure why, maybe it was the wine, but she chose that moment to tell me about her life. She confessed that she regretted staying with my father for so long. But that she didn’t feel like she had a choice. She’d been raised in a religious environment, where the wife is expected to stay. And my father had been so much more controlling than I’d realized. She told me that he wouldn’t allow her to study. Or get a job. Or buy anything, even for us. He never allowed her to be the ‘fun’ parent or the ‘smart’ parent. And if she ever pushed back, it could get physical. But we never saw it, because she shielded us from everything. For my entire life, I’d seen her defer to my dad on everything. Every bill. Every decision. She wouldn’t even drive on the highway. It was always him. She had never seemed like she was in control. But I was too young to know what was happening. What she was sheltering us from. And what she eventually got us away from. I had never realized that she’d been the strong one the entire time.”

[rogerslovesstark]

No More Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Sharon x fem!reader [platonic, for now ;)]

Word Count: 2,020

WARNING: ANGST, mean Steve, Sharon being a sweetheart because she is portrayed negatively, I've done it but girls support girls!

“Steve, where are you going?” You ask quietly, scared of his response because it seemed that he was always on the verge of exploding when you spoke to him. You felt like you were walking around eggshells whenever you were around him. 

Ever since he came back from Bolivia, he was constantly angry when he was around you. You noticed something was off when the night he came back, you tried to give him a massage and he jerked himself away from you. That was two months ago, and he was away for almost three months.

You wrote it off as him being tired and annoyed from the almost failed mission. However, as days continued, Steve kept keeping a cold shoulder to you. Avoiding you in the tower, skipping on date nights saying that he had mission reports to file, sleeping in the tower instead of coming home.

It was almost like he didn’t love you anymore.

Steve saw you approaching him in the tower, he also noticed that there was no way of avoiding you without causing a scene. So he just let you come to him, the new trainees in awe of the two superheroes who were supposedly madly in love with one another. 

You beamed at your boyfriend, he had just come back from Bolivia a few days ago and you hadn’t had the chance to speak with him properly, Steve was constantly swarmed in paperwork because of the operation. 

You knew that he was stressed when he didn’t want to have sex after his mission, but you also didn’t want to force it on him. It was odd that you wouldn’t want to have sex after two months away from your girlfriend, only having jerked off while on the trip. You had doubts that Steve remained loyal to you during the mission but you hid them deep in yourself because you didn’t want to doubt the loyalty of Steve.

Steve faked a smile when he saw you walk over to him, just to keep appearances with everyone around them. He hugged you loosely and quickly pulled away, not making many conversations with you and then excusing himself claiming he needed to speak with Fury about something important. 

You stood in the hallway, visibly upset that your lover wouldn’t spend five minutes with you.

You were starved of basic affection from your boyfriend. You didn’t even know what you did wrong.

Steve was on his way out the door when he heard you ask him where he was going. Just hearing you ask him where he was going angered him so much. You were acting like his mother all the time, so needy and annoying. 

“Out Y/n, why? Do you need anything?” He asked trying not to blow a fuse, his temper was so short with you. 

“Can we please talk before you go?” You asked him, you needed validation and affection so badly that you were itching just to have him hold you again. 

Steve huffed and dropped his keys on the side table and walked towards you, sitting on the couch near you, just not touching you. 

“Are you angry at me Steve?” You asked him, desperate for an answer. You just wanted your boyfriend to kiss you the way he used to.

“No, Y/n.” He answered shortly, temper slowly rising, he was getting annoyed by you already and you hadn’t even said more than 20 words to him yet. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if I did something wrong, it won’t hurt my feelings,” You said reaching to hold his hand, in need of some sort of affection. Even if it was just holding his large hand. 

“Y/n enough, stop acting like a child, okay?” He shouted, pulling his hand away quickly when he realized that you were going to touch him. “Y/n I need to tell you something, don’t interrupt me okay, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t what happens but I just don’t love you anymore,” Steve said, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

You sat on the couch stunned, absolutely stunned by what your boyfriend had just said. He didn’t love you anymore? What does that even mean? How do you just stop loving someone? You were processing 10 different emotions at once. The one you felt most was pain, so much pain that you couldn’t even cry because of how much it hurt.

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, you just stared at him in shock. You didn’t know what to say, you just sat on the couch, feeling like an outlier in your own home. 

Steve just stared at you, seeing you process what he had just said. He didn’t know how you would take it, but it seemed like you were taking it pretty well. He didn’t say anything else to you, he just grabbed his keys and shut the door behind him. Sam and Bucky were waiting for him at the bar, it was boys night and he was finally free from the leash of your relationship.

+++

You quickly grabbed your things from your side of the closet. You still didn’t feel the urge to cry about this relationship. Maybe because you already knew it was over subconsciously. Why cry over something that you were kind of expecting. 

You left his apartment an hour after Steve had left, with your two suitcases and a large bag filled to the brim in tow, you walked to the tower. It was a far walk, from Brooklyn to Mid-town Manhattan. You received so many strange looks because what kind of crazy person didn’t just call an Uber with all that stuff. 

It took you over an hour to reach the tower. You took the elevator up to your floor, constantly asking FRIDAY for updates of where everyone is inside the tower. Once you reached your floor, you requested FRIDAY to lock your floor to everyone until further notice, ban Steve from entering your floor, and disable people from requesting your location within the tower.

You placed all of your things inside your room, not having enough energy to put any of your things away. You walked over to your bathroom and started the shower, the heat as high as it would go.

You stood under the stream of burning water, you tried to avoid thinking of the situation. You still didn’t feel like crying, just the feeling of being numb and cold. You were probably cold because your insane ass walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan in a thin shirt and jeans. 

You turned the water off and changed into a teeshirt, crawling into your bed and requesting FRIDAY to close the curtains and not to open them until you were out of bed, whenever you awoke the next morning.

You laid in the darkness looking up at the ceiling, torturing yourself with the words Steve had said to you. Constantly replaying them inside your mind, hoping that he was lying, hoping that when you woke up the next morning that he would be laying next to you, holding you to his chest.

As you replayed the words in your head, you finally felt the tears coming on. You sobbed softly thinking of your failed relationship, thinking of what you did wrong. 

You finally fell asleep, cheeks wet from all the tears. Sleeping a dreamless sleep.

+++

Steve was drinking the mead Bucky had on hand, a welcome gift from Thor. They were in some club on the lower west side. Some blonde woman was sitting in his lap, talking about something Steve didn’t even care about. All he wanted to do was to sleep with her and kick her out. 

He didn’t care for anything at the moment, not when she had died at the cost of his stupidity. 

Janet, an inter who Fury had placed on the mission in Bolivia because he believed that she was ready to take on the mission with the supervision of Steve.

The first two weeks of the mission was filled with the sexual tension between the two. It happened after dinner had ended and Steve and Janet were buzzed, Steve had walked her back to her hotel room. She kissed Steve, and they ended up entangled in her sheets, any thoughts of you were completely forgotten by Steve. The night ended with the best sex of Steve’s night.

Once he woke up, he noticed that Janet was laying on his chest naked, and he was also naked. Steve had no regrets, he didn’t feel any remorse that he had cheated on you. So he continued the relationship with Janet, claiming that he didn’t love you anymore, that Janet made him feel something that you never made him feel. 

The night before they were meant to leave, Janet went to the local supermarket to get some wine and cheese for the two, to celebrate their relationship. Only to be shot and killed before she could even make it to the store. 

Steve was devastated that Janet had been killed, he mourned her death so painful. Steve genuinely believed that Janet was the love of his life.

Steve began getting annoyed of the blonde woman in his lap just chattering away, so he kissed her quiet, and took her back to her place, tidy and small. He would expect nothing more from a young woman working in some low-paying field, she had mentioned it but Steve was too caught up in his thoughts about Janet to even care about what she was saying.

As soon as Steve finished, he got up and left. He finally made it to his apartment, expecting you to be in the bedroom, but you weren’t here. Good, it's better that way, you were so unbelievably annoying that he could barely stand to be around you. 

He climbed into his bed, the sheets still smelled like your shampoo. He had to wash the sheets as soon as possible, whenever he found the time. 

+++

You had been in a dark place for the last 3 weeks, you had begged Fury to not place you on any mission, you explained the situation to him, with him being infuriated, almost going to the length of finding Steve and shooting him in the leg. 

You realized that you were in such a depressive state and hadn’t been taking care of yourself. In 3 weeks, you had barely eaten, showered, or spoken to anyone. 

You forced yourself to get up, shower, eat a proper meal, and go for a run. The amount of energy it took to even complete those tasks was so unbelievably exhausting that you only wanted to lay in bed all day and read.

You ended up calling Sharon, asking her to come to see you and hang out to take your mind off the hurt you were going through. You and she were friends, meeting each other during the SHIELD initiative. Sharon was always so kind to you, you could sense her attraction to your boyfriend but then again who would be. Well, ex-boyfriend.

You cried your heart out to Sharon, laying in your bed with her, while she stroked the back of your head trying to soothe you, you ended up asleep in her arms. You woke up to a clean room, and Sharon wasn’t in your bed. She was in your kitchen making something to eat you were guessing. 

“Hey N/n, you need to eat some dinner, I’m making spicy penne al vodka, it’s almost ready,” Sharon said while stirring the pot she was using. You took a seat at the counter, waiting to be served by your friend. You stared out the window, just wondering what Steve was doing right now.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, hello,” Sharon waved her hand in your face. She was confused as to why you kept daydreaming, he left you, you should move on because he was a piece of shit anyways.

“I’m not hungry Shar, I ate earlier, I’ll just eat later,” You said while staring out the window.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Guilt Eater

Part 4 of the ‘Successors of the Future’ is here! And yes, I will do my absolute best to squeeze in as much Blazblue reference in this series until I can’t! (I mean, that’s how I got the plot bunny for this series anyway~)

We’re moving the spotlights today to Malleus and Ace and a special guest! I thought it’ll be an interesting shift of perspective and change. Don’t worry, we’ll get right back to the kids in the next oneshot. 

As always, big thank you to @tri3tri for letting us expand her Second Wive AU. Hope you guys enjoy this oneshot. 

-

Time tend to leave its mark differently on each species. 

For creatures who only grew stronger with time while their bodies remain near immortal, the passing of time means nothing to the Fair Folks. Time is likened to the ocean; ancient yet full of wonders. 

For Malleus, however, time has not been kind to him. Not since his dear heart and children vanishes. 

Ever since then, there is an unspoken rule among the residents of the Castle of Thorns: the Queen’s family wing is forbidden to everyone but the King.

Even Lilia nod his head to the rule; even he has been walking on eggshells around their King. 

And the years had transformed the Queen’s domain into a catacomb. The rumpled beds, the toys littered in Princess Sherrie’s bedroom, the Queen’s favourite book on her study table - everything is left untouched with layered of dust and cobwebs covering every inch of the surfaces. 

Every evening, the King would stalk the empty halls and bedrooms like a ghost; constantly yearning to feel the memories that embedded on the walls. Once he did his duties as the King and beget the male heir that the court had been pushing, Malleus has been living in regret ever since. 

He should have known that his beautiful wife would attempt to escape during the night of his second wedding. He should have tightened the security not on his concubine, but to the Queen and their Princesses. He should have assured Renata and Sherrie that only their mother holds his heart and that Bellatrix is just a means to an end. 

He should have told them that he loves them. 

Regret and guilt are terrible poisons. It festered under your skin and twist your heart painfully. They plague your mind with ‘what if’s’ and ‘should have’s’ and Malleus have been carrying them ever since that night. 

Tonight, he lost hours inside Renata’s bedroom, just staring at her favourite doll that he bought for her. He still remembers how her eyes lit up and how sweet her smile was when he presented the doll to her; how she was so happy that she clings on him and the doll that day. Deeply amused, he humoured her and carried her in her arms the whole day. Malleus even brought her to his court session, regardless how it broke propriety. 

His every waking moments now drift to MC and their daughters. Where are they? Why couldn’t he find them no matter how many soldiers he dispatched across Twisted Wonderland, no matter how far his magic blanket the lands? Are his daughters healthy, happy? What are they currently doing now? Are they safe? Have they forgotten about him - 

The mirror on the vanity table shattered. Malleus releases the doll in his grip and struggle to calm himself down; his body curl inwards and his breaths erratic. The thought of his wife and children far away and happy from him nearly drove him crazy if it weren’t for Lilia’s quick and careful words of consolation.

“They can’t hide forever, Malleus. Don’t ever give up, you hear me? And once we’ll find them, we’ll make sure her little escape routines are put to a stop. Permanently.”  

Lilia’s words are enough to ground him. For now. 

Malleus failed to assured his wife and daughters his love towards them, failed to show just how deep his convictions towards them are. The moment he finds any threads of their whereabouts, he’ll make sure to rectify that. 

And as the night made way for morning, Malleus forces himself to leave his daughter’s abandoned bedroom to prepare for another long, monotonous day. The only reason why he hasn’t delegate his duties to Lilia was because of his grandmother. His grandmother had come to visit on the eve of his second wedding and stayed when a frantic Silver announced MC and their children’s disappearance. If it weren’t for her, Malleus would’ve burned away his suit and transform into a dragon to search for them. While Lilia organise a search team with Silver and Sebek, his grandmother made sure he understood his duties as King once more. 

That was the first and last time he slept with Bellatrix before his thoughts and desire are consumed with the need to find his family. At that point, neither Lilia nor his grandmother could’ve stop him. 

The castle staffs and guards know to scattered when they see him step out of the Queen’s wing. The moment they heard the door creaked open, the room is empty. 

All but for one individual. 

“Good morning, Father!” 

Malleus stop his track. He tilts his head towards his heir, expressionless. Victor refused to be deterred by his Father’s gloomy aura yet he’s smart enough to carefully approach him. 

The king is stoic on the best days, frightening on his worst. 

“Will you be joining us for breakfast later? I heard from Grandfather Lilia that the kitchen staffs are planning to cook your favourites.” 

“I’ll be taking my meals in my office as usual.” Malleus reply and starts to walk away. 

Victor’s smile drop a little but he pressed on, jogging behind his father. In a rare burst of courage, the Prince grab Malleus’ hand. Surprisingly, Malleus stops walking. He stares at his hand before narrowing his eyes at Victor. 

“W-Would Father like a report of my recent academic progress? My tutors said that I’ve been doing well in my magic classes! O-Oh! I’ve also been diligently keeping up with my etiquette lessons.” Victor stutters out after he immediately let go of his Father’s hand. Feeling like he just committed a grave crime. 

“No need. Your tutors have been sending letters of your progress, daily.” 

“Oh... then would Father be willing to... to train me - ”

“I’m busy. Ask Lilia or any of your tutors.” And with that, Malleus refused to linger any longer, leaving Victor in the empty room. 

Crestfallen, Victor watch his Father go. Knowing that if he bothers him even more, it will just upset him and another storm would loom over the castle for the next few days. His expression immediately morph into a combination of anger and sadness as he stomps away before the staffs could return, not wanting them to see him vulnerable. 

As usual, Victor desperately hopes that one day his Father would finally acknowledge him as a son, not as his Prince. 

-

Time tend to leave its mark differently on each species.

For creatures with a set of years as flimsy as a lit candle’s flame, humans are creatures who bear the passing of time with a passionate vigor. Time is likened to fireworks; beautiful, bright but only for a short moment. 

For Ace, however, time is a constant remainder that he had failed his best friend. Being vulnerable in Night Raven College is a sure way to be taken advantage off and Ace is never known as anything but his brutal honestly, mischievous streaks and habits of getting himself (and others) into trouble. 

But when the headmaster announced that he couldn’t find MC anywhere the day after their senior’s graduation, was the moment that he, Deuce and Grim completely lose their composure. Deuce was too shocked to say anything while Ace couldn’t stop screaming alongside Grim. 

She couldn’t have just vanish! People don’t work like that! 

And even if she finally somehow found a way back to her world, she wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye! 

Ace hated himself as that moment. If only he texted them the night before. Why didn’t he? They usually send stupid texts to one another! If only he kept a closer eye on them. If only she kept Grim close to her. 

For once, the headmaster drop all pretence. For once, his guilt laden answer and heavy sags of his shoulders are genuine. 

MC is gone and he has no idea how or why. But the three of them refused to gave up just like that. Ever since that day, they would do their best to figure out or research about MC’s fate. Jack and Epel, after finding out what happened, did their best to help out too. But days passed without any leads and with heavy hearts, they accepted that their friend is lost to them. 

That was not a good day. 

After Ace and Epel managed to pull Deuce and Jack away from one another (Deuce had completely lost it when the wolf boy reluctantly admit that maybe it was best to stop their research), strangely enough, it was Sebek who finally interjects. 

They need to accept that MC is gone. Even if they could never gain the closure that they desperately want, it’ll be no good to carry this sort of horrible guilt with them forever. With a long sigh, Sebek told them to find peace with it, even if it’s hard. 

Easier said than done. Even now that he’s already an adult and have a son, Ace still couldn’t help but wonder what happened to his friend. He hopes that wherever she is, MC is safe and happy. Anything other than that Ace couldn’t bear to think. 

Ace takes out his phone and checks the calendar app. The anniversary of MC’s disappearance is coming. Usually, Ace would cook MC’s favourite food in honour of her memory and over the years, he has gotten pretty good at it. Good enough that it also becomes his son’s favourite dish. 

Just as Ace was about to put down his phone and get ready to go out for lunch with his older brother, it suddenly rings.  

The name on his phone surprises him. His son rarely calls him ever since he got accepted to Night Raven College. Something about wanting some independence from his old man that Ace retaliates by ruffling his hair because of his boy’s cheekiness. 

Ace press the accept button with a grin, knowing that this is going to be good. “What’s up, kiddo? Finally admit that you miss your old man?” 

He expects a scoff, maybe a reluctant admittance, hell even his son’s rare bout of innocent honesty. What Ace didn’t expect however, is hearing his son’s frightened shriek.

“Dad! You knew a MC/S before right!? Please tell me you know what to do when she went batshit insane!” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down! What are you talking about? I can barely hear you!” 

Ace impatiently wait while pressing the phone close to his ear as he hear his son rapidly talking to someone, shouting apologies and heavy breaths as if he’s currently running. 

“Oh Sweet Seven, ok, I think we managed to hide from her.” His son panted. “Yeah, so, I might have, uh accidentally threw my food tray all over this girl and she immediately went supernova. We barely managed to dodge her fireballs!” 

Suddenly, Ace felt his heart drop. “Girl? What girl? Night Raven College is an all-boys’ school.” He heard himself reply. Absentmindedly, his mind brought up the memories of his Entrance Ceremony, years ago. Of a girl that looked so lost in her robes as she stood in front of the Mirror of Darkness. 

“Renata MC/S. She’s the only girl that ended up a student here. I remembered that you had a friend with that surname so I thought she might be related.” 

At that moment, Ace choose to believe it. It’s way too coincidental for it not be. A girl that shares his lost best friend’s surname who also just happend to be the only girl to be accepted in Night Raven College? 

But what Ace doesn’t understand is his son’s comment about the girl throwing fireballs. MC doesn’t have magic. So what’s going on? 

“Hmm, I usually gave her some space before I apologised to her. And a little bribery never failed too.” Ace advised, recalling how MC reluctantly accepts the candy that he offered after he upsets her. 

“That’s not a bad idea, Dad! Will report back the result if I’m not scorched to death.” Ace’s son dryly answer. Some rustling noises and hush whispers can be heard through the phone before his kid ended the call. 

Ace is already calling Deuce’s number. He needs to know about this. 

-

I hope I managed to did Malleus and Ace justice in writing them! I’ll get better with writing the rest of the boys once their children are introduce. Because Renata needed friends/allies against Malleus after all~ 

Speaking of Victor, I was really nervous when I was writing him. Here, he’s not all haughty because deep down, all he want is some praises and love from a Father who only see him as something to appease his court. Not a son. Hope I managed to portray that properly! 

(Also, the name of Ace’s son and two others will be reveal in the next oneshot)

[c-ptsdrecovery]

A friendship with a narcissist

I had this friend--let’s call her G. I met G through church. She was an intelligent and creative woman, very well respected by others.

There WERE some early warning signs. She seemed to have a little affectation. Affectation is defined as, “behavior, speech, or writing that is artificial and designed to impress.  A studied display of real or pretended feeling.” Many narcissists just kind of give you the impression that they’re always on stage. Something just seems a little theatrical about their behavior. It’s a little grating and cringe. G and her husband often sang on a worship team, and the way that she closed her eyes and lifted her hands while singing seemed a little fake, a little more for show than the way her husband did it.

But then, some people just have an unfortunate manner. So I ignored it.

I knew G for a few years before we really became friends. I think we really got to know one another through a Bible study we were both going to. We were both well-educated, especially in English, both smart, had similar (liberal) politics. (Though, in retrospect, narcissists do often take on the politics and beliefs of the people they’re love-bombing, to make them more compatible. So I have no idea what her politics really were.)

Somehow, we became friends. We sat next to each other during service. We attended the same Bible study. After awhile, it became a weekly thing that I would go over to her house and we would go out to eat together. I also pet-sat for her when she and her husband went away.

It was tough holding a conversation with G. She had to use everything you said in some kind of clever comment. Either that, or she would feign being offended and twist whatever you had said into a slight or an insult against her. She did it with a smile in her eyes, to show she wasn’t mad, but still you would have to insist that you didn’t mean it like that, and often give her a compliment. It was EXHAUSTING holding a conversation with her sometimes because of the combination of walking on eggshells, trying to keep up with her clever commentary, and having to constantly reassure her of your good opinion. (A mutual friend of mine asked me once if I found it tiring to talk to G, so I know it wasn’t just me!)

Repeatedly, over the course of our friendship, she exclaimed spontaneously, “It’s so good to finally have a friend!” or, “You’re my only friend!” This always struck me as deeply weird, because I KNEW she had other good friends in our church. I often would point this out when she made comments like this, and she would brush it off, like, “Yes, but they can’t keep up with me in a conversation”, or some other compliment to me. I would let it drop, but I knew that these excuses weren’t true either, as I knew that at least a couple of the friends she had at church were just as intelligent and educated as I was. This always weirded me out at the time, and I know now that it was lovebombing: narcissists often go out of their way to pull in a target by assuring them that they have a special and unique relationship. They want you to feel flattered so you’ll stick with them.

Increasingly, I found that was I completely physically exhausted after an afternoon with G. I had chronic fatigue syndrome, so I did get tired easily, but I got more tired with G than I did hanging out with any of my other friends. After spending a couple of hours with G, I would have to go home and straight to bed. I thought this was strange, and it began to make me feel ambivalent about spending time with her. But I was very isolated at the time, and my weekly meetings with G were a way to get out of the house and go do something, so I felt dependent on their continuing. I have learned since that covert narcissists are sometimes called “energy vampires” because of how mentally--and indeed, physically--exhausting it can be to be around them.

G decided eventually to go into the ministry. (I have known a number of narcissists in the ministry; it’s a position that gives them lots of attention and narcissistic supply, and unfortunately has the side-effect of giving them lots of opportunities to victimize others through their spiritual authority.) I remember the first time she gave a sermon:

It was pretty cringe.

What she was saying was fine. The text was fine. But her affectation, which I had learned to ignore by that point, was much more obvious when she had a whole audience, a whole congregation, to impress. Public speaking seems to bring out the worst in narcissists with affectation.

But I was a good friend: I told her she did a great job, and gave her lots of reassurance (read: repeated compliments) that she had been wonderful.

I was struggling a great deal at that time with my parents. I was living with them again, and my mom had done an “emotional discard” with me. (The cycle of narcissism is to idealize the target, devalue them, and then sometimes suddenly discard them. My mom couldn’t suddenly disappear from my life, since she still wanted to be seen as a good parent, so instead she made it very clear to me in subtle and passive-aggressive ways that she wasn’t going to support me emotionally anymore and I didn’t matter to her at all. It was subtle enough that I wouldn’t be able to carry really awful stories of her to others and make her look like a bad mother, but also hurtful enough that living with her was torture.) Then, on top of that, my mom thought I had insulted her on my blog at one point and went into a complete narcissistic rage for a MONTH, doing everything possible to tear me down emotionally, while I just sat there, bewildered as to what was happening or why.

The result, especially since my parents had systematically undermined my self-confidence through gaslighting throughout my life, was that I couldn’t figure out what was going on in my relationship with my parents (and my mother in particular--I didn’t realize at that time that she was a covert narcissist, or even that her behavior constituted emotional neglect or abuse). I didn’t trust my own intuitions and my own feelings about it, and so I went to my friends to try to get an outside opinion, some kind of validation of my impressions. I had been indoctrinated by my parents with the idea that I was “constantly overreacting”, so I needed somebody else to tell me I wasn’t.

Luckily, I had one friend, Jen, who kept telling me that my mother’s behavior was abusive and unacceptable. But it’s so hard to believe that your own parents, who have raised you to believe that they’re ideal parents, are abusive or toxic. So I would bring all my troubles to G, too, looking for corroboration.

My interactions with G felt like my interactions with my mother, in the sense that SOMETIMES she would build me up and tell me I was right and that my feelings mattered and so forth, and sometimes she would side with my mother. Just like a gambling addict, I kept going back to her because I SOMETIMES got a payoff, and SOMETIMES it felt really good, but the price was that oftentimes, she made me feel like I WAS overreacting.

With Jen’s help, I eventually did figure out that my mother’s behavior was abusive (it was quite some time later that I managed to work out that her problem was narcissism; at this time I was still trying to work out if she had had some kind of minor psychotic break, her change in behavior had been so dramatic!). G seemed to support me, telling me about how she herself had felt as a child that she hated her emotionally neglectful parents. (I don’t think she was just putting this on to make me feel like she and I were similar; narcissistic personality disorder very frequently IS partially a product of early childhood emotional abuse/neglect.)

But still, I began to feel increasingly like G was gaslighting me. More and more, there were times when I told her a story about my mother’s behavior which I had already determined beyond a doubt was abusive--and G would play it down, or explain it away. I think she likely realized that my mother was like her, a fellow narcissist, and either she was sympathizing more with my mother’s situation than mine, or she wanted to keep me in thrall to narcissistic techniques of control, or both. If I got wise to my mother’s manipulative behavior, I could get wise to HER manipulative behavior, too. 

The friendship began to feel more and more uncomfortable and distasteful, but because I had so few friends in the area and so few opportunities to get away from my parents’ house, I kept seeing her every week.

(There was also an incident, when G was showing me the little apartment she and her husband had built over their garage. Knowing that my mother was abusive, I was trying to figure out how to leave my parents’ house--but I had nowhere to go, and little money to live on independently. So I asked G, “If things with my parents get really bad and I need to leave--can I come stay with you here for awhile?” Her answer was an immediate “No.” She told me that they had established the apartment so her sons could come stay with her. Her sons had homes and lives and jobs of their own, and one of them was married. But she was very emphatic that I could not come to stay with her, even if I was driven out of my house. I found this puzzling and hurtful, considering how nice she was always being to me and how she kept telling me I was her only real friend. To this day, I have never known either of her sons to come stay with her. I would like to add that it’s not that she didn’t have the right to decide who could come and stay in her guest room, and if she had been worried about something like the expense of helping to support me, I would have understood. But to claim she liked me SO MUCH and then to deny me support I needed that she could have given always struck me as contradictory--and revealing.)

Finally, I decided I needed to draw some boundaries. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what in G’s behavior was so toxic, but I knew there was something, and I needed to start working on weeding it out. So I found a behavior of hers that upset me, as a place to start.

She liked to give me unsolicited advice about things. It annoyed me because it was so often something that wouldn’t work for my situation, and getting this advice kind of triggered me. I realize now that part of the problem was that when she gave me advice, she was putting me in subordinate position. I was a full adult, over thirty years old, with a PhD, plenty old enough and competent enough to run my own life. She was about my parents’ age (25ish years older than me), and I felt like her giving me advice was her way of feeling superior to me.

So, I thought through what I was going to say, and the next time we got together, I asked her very nicely not to give me unsolicited advice anymore, because it upset me and wasn’t really helpful. I was worried about her reaction, but her reaction was perfect: a seemingly genuine, “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize that upset you. Yes, I’ll stop. And if you catch me doing it and I don’t realize, say something, and I’ll stop.” I was relieved and gratified at her immediate acquiescence.

A few days later, I was texting with her, and she felt the need to give me unsolicited advice. And this wasn’t just a single line of, “Hey, have you thought of trying such-and-such?” No, she literally sent me a text SO LONG that my phone service broke it into three long sections (and actually sent them to me out of order) because it couldn’t handle it all. IIRC, it was about daily devotions, and she was describing EXACTLY how I should be doing my devotions.

Now, not only was this an egregious example of giving unsolicited advice in terms of length, but it was also a subject on which I felt she shouldn’t have been giving me advice in the first place. One’s Christian devotional practices are very personal, and other than “you should read the Bible and pray”, how you do it is really up to you. And she was giving me GRANULAR instructions on how to do my devotions.

I was annoyed, but she HAD said she might forget and give me advice by accident. So I texted back, “Thanks, but I can’t really use that advice.” or something to that effect. She texted back--and these aren’t the exact words, but they’re pretty close--”I was just trying to tell you what you should do.” 

...which... is what advice is.

I ended the conversation soon after, and I decided we probably needed a break and I needed some space in our relationship. I had felt that she was gaslighting me on the subject of my mom’s bad behavior, and now she was overstepping very clear boundaries. And boundaries have to be enforced, not to mention I really didn’t want to be spending so much time with her if she was going to behave this way. I worried a bit about how she would react when I turned her down for our next lunch date.

I needn’t have worried. She stopped contacting me entirely. Not a call, not a text, not a lunch date. From getting together every week, she very suddenly dropped our relationship entirely, cold turkey. 

On one hand, I was relieved. This meant I didn’t need to step back from our relationship myself. On the other hand, it was puzzling and hurtful. She knew that I was isolated and dealing with abuse and that I needed a strong social support system. Not to mention how she kept calling me her “ONLY FRIEND”. And yet she dropped me flat. I have since learned that this is characteristic of narcissists--another, more obvious form of the “discard”:

“When the target asks for compromise, reciprocity, empathy, integrity, honesty, and boundaries (all healthy and valid requests that people with extreme narcissistic qualities generally do not engage in), the person with narcissism may decide that the target has lost his or her luster and is tarnished—no longer the “perfect partner” to fluff the ego feathers. Inevitably, the discarding occurs when the person with narcissism either disappears or orchestrates his or her own abandonment by engaging in some form of egregious emotional abuse.” (source)

G’s discard of me was just as sudden as my mother’s, but was demonstrated through sudden literal/physical abandonment rather than sudden emotional abandonment.

That was in October. She DID call me up again one more time, in April, and we had one lunch together. By this time I had gotten diagnosed with C-PTSD from my mother’s emotional abuse, and I told G about it. She was perfectly nice at lunch, but I had a total emotional meltdown about something about an hour later that I attribute partly to G’s emotional/physical effect on me and my resulting lack of forks. That was in 2019. It has now been almost exactly two years, and I haven’t heard a word from her since. She apparently has also stopped going to our former church (I’ve stopped going there, too), and our former pastor has commented to me in emails that he misses me and G (thinking we’re still friends). I haven’t tried to disabuse him of the notion or tell him my suspicions, that G is a covert narcissist. I don’t know if he’d believe me or not, and since she isn’t going there anymore, there’s no need to tell him. I do worry that she might still be trying to work in the ministry, though.

So here’s the point of that story:

Was any of G’s behavior toward me overt abuse? No. There was something I think was gaslighting, and there was violation of boundaries, but not something that meets most people’s definition of abuse. I think G probably went out of her way to be nice to me because she was using me as narcissistic supply--just like my narcissist mother is SO NICE to all her friends, who all think she’s WONDERFUL, and saved her nastiness for those of us living in the house with her. So G was being careful NOT to abuse me, under the common definition of abuse.

But was there harm done? Yes. Being friends with G was harmful, both mentally and physically, to such an extent that the end of our friendship, sudden and unexpected as it was, filled me with relief. She was draining me emotionally in a time when I needed my friends to build me up instead. She was reinforcing my mother’s gaslighting of me, making it harder for me to get away from my abuser. She even literally made it harder for me to escape that abuse by refusing to give me any shelter despite her easy ability to do so and her avowed affection for me.

We humans need our relationships to be mutually supportive. Narcissists don’t know how to do mutually supportive. They only know how to pump you up with flattery in order to get narcissistic supply out of you. Relationships with narcissists, even “non-abusive” ones, are not relationships: they are a covert matter of cold transaction, in which the narcissist is determined to come out on top. 

This is why narcissistic apologism rings so hollow. The argument “Not all narcissists are abusive” is beside the point. G didn’t directly “abuse” me by many people’s definition of abuse. Yet being friends with her was still ultimately harmful. She didn’t harm me as much as some other narcissists I have known, but that may be because I had begun to learn a good bit about narcissism and emotional abuse by that time, and it was my getting wise to her that made her end the friendship. Being in a close relationship with a narcissist--be they a parent, a partner, a friend, or a boss--can be very damaging over the long term, even if the narcissist isn’t overtly abusive. Yes, G’s narcissism probably came from a history of emotional abuse/neglect at the hands of her parents. This is true of many narcissists, including my mother. I feel bad for that. No, on some level she can’t help her natural instincts. But I also don’t need to put myself in danger by engaging in relationships with narcissists on the off-chance that they won’t harm me. I will also warn people about the characteristics of narcissists so that they, too, can protect themselves. 

I don’t blame tigers for being tigers, but I don’t try to make friends with them. And telling other people that tigers make for dangerous friends doesn’t make me a bad person. *

Meredith Miller writes**, “After years of talking with people in my personal and professional life about covert narcissists, I’ve come to believe that in order to really understand the nature of the covert narcissist, you have to have lived it. . . . Only someone who has been inside that nightmare can really know what the experience is like. Even then it’s hard to describe.” I think she’s probably right. So I don’t expect narcissist apologists to really understand, and this post probably won’t change some of their minds. But people who are currently experiencing narcissistic abuse need to know that narcissistic abuse DOES exist, that it IS harmful. They need to know what it looks like so they can escape their abuser’s gaslighting. Information about covert narcissists and narcissistic abuse is a necessary tool for escape and recovery. Telling someone who is being covertly abused by a narcissist that anything bad that is said about narcissists is immoral and false is only trapping them in the cycle of abuse and its debilitating psychological and physical effects.

I hope that G, like the other narcissists I’ve known, has a good and happy life. But I don’t want to be any part of it, and I would recommend that others keep clear, as well.

*This is not an attempt to dehumanize narcissists. Narcissists are people, not animals.

**Foreword to The Covert Passive-Aggressive Narcissist by Debbie Mirza

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 04

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 8.6 k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Omg I actually forgot twice in a row to post this LOL. It’s getting posted now at least!! I feel like I’ve had the sort of week where I’m extra tired. Idk.

Anyway I’ve been writing these HP prompts people sent in recently and I’m having so much fun! If you’re someone who sent it in, I promise I got your prompt! I’m just slowly but surely making my way through!!

Tags: @blue1928​

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

It’s clear that you’re on your best behaviour after Jin agrees to travel with you. 

After your detour to rescue Jin, the river is now a seven day walk away. A few days’ worth of hiking will take the three of you to a village on the outskirts of the forest, where you will be able to purchase a second bedroll and more food and water supplies. After that, it is a steady trek past the Mountains of Delaria, at the foot of which you will be able to see the radiant night sky, clearer than in any other part of the realm. Following that, it is a hike through the murky swamplands, and then finally once the three of you cross the golden plains, which grow many unique species of metallic flora, you will finally reach the edge of the river. 

One would think that you’d be excited to be on such a journey, especially given the motives that went into going on it in the first place, but instead you are intent on making Jin feel like you’re an overbearing bodyguard instead of his friend. He feels like at any moment in time you are one leaf crackle away from pulling out a broomstick and sweeping a clear path through the forest for him to walk down. You flinch at the slightest thing- a bug lands on him and you feel the need to do a full body check for injuries. A twig pokes him and you’re ready to pull out a flame thrower. It’s clear you’re on some kind of self-assigned mission.

And it’s sweet, it is. If he stops and thinks about it, you’re obviously trying to make up for past transgressions. It’s nice, to know that you value him enough that his harsh words are motivation to treat him better rather than just cutting him out of your life. 

But. For goodness’ sake. It’s getting to be a little out of hand. 

“You’re shivering.” Jin groans, his voice raspy with sleep. You turn your head from where you are huddled at the base of a tree to where Jin has raised his head from his lying position to glare at you. He’d only been joking when he agreed to take your bedroll, but you’d insisted. And now it’s been a few hours and it’s not like he can get a wink of sleep with you shivering from cold a few metres away.

“I’m not.” You insist through chattering teeth, even as you hug your knees closer to your chest and release an indignant exhale that puffs against the cold air in a cloud. Jungkook, who is sound asleep in the pocket of your jacket, releases a loud snore. Jin groans and sits up, swaddled warmly in your bedroll. 

“I told you to take the bedroll!” He snaps. He doesn’t mean to be quite so harsh in his tone, and he instantly regrets it when you cower like a scolded puppy. It’s too reminiscent of times past. He always makes you flinch away when he’s just trying to make you understand. Why he’s worried. Why the things you do are reckless. What it means to the people who love you were they to lose you. But he can’t seem to separate the fear and anger that comes with that sentiment and what has resulted is you constantly thinking he hates you. Which isn’t true! He’s not mad and he doesn’t hate you... he just feels bad. And in all honesty... You can’t honestly expect him to sleep peacefully when he knows you’re miserable, can you?

“You said you wouldn’t sleep on the forest floor and I don’t have enough money for that inn we passed.” You mumble. You’re no weakling. You had promised yourself this was going to be the best trip of Jin’s life and so that’s what it’s going to be. You weren’t about to make him sleep in the cold when you’d dragged him to this realm against his will in the first place. Jin is silent for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“I didn’t want you to give up your bedroll. I thought you were only joking when you said that.” He mumbles, shuffling closer. He stares at you for a long moment. He’s been procrastinating bringing this up with you all day because honestly, he feels awkward and he doesn’t know where he stands with you. Everything is weird and messed up- there’s so much history and hard feelings between the two of you, but at the same time you both care too much to give up. What has resulted is this weird limbo where the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. But he doesn’t think he can last another moment of your overbearing actions, let alone another few weeks.

“Listen, (Y/N), I get that you want me to have a good time on this trip. I do. But really, you don’t have to try so hard. I actually would not enjoy it if you froze to death when there’s a perfectly good bedroll for you to use right here.” You bite your lip and stare at Jin. His hair is messy, and his eyes are squinted from sleep. He’s rolled up in your bedroll like a burrito and he looks comfortable and warm. You’re struck by the thought that it would be nice to curl up beside him, but you push the thought down as quickly as it arrives- you’re good at pushing away those kind of intrusive thoughts.

It’s difficult to articulate the feelings that have you on edge, but they largely come down to this: You don’t want Jin to keep seeing you as a burden. It’s not like it’s new news- a certain incident in highschool springs to mind- but it’s never occurred to you until his outburst just how frustrated he is by your relationship. But now that you know, you cannot bear the thought. The bruises and swelling have long vanished. Those are the last remnants of the attack on him by the Saishtas, but though they are almost gone, every now and then you see him stretch his shoulder in discomfort and you are reminded anew; to Jin, you are a pain. An inconvenience. An unwanted responsibility.

“I know.” You finally say. “But I really, really want you to have a good time. I don’t want you to keep thinking of me as this annoying brat you have to look after all the time.”

That’s why you asked him to come with you to see the river. You want to prove to him on this trip that he doesn’t have to constantly be responsible for you. You’re not an untrained puppy. And, if you’re being really honest, you want to go back. To the times before things got messed up between the two of you. Back to when you were kids and your biggest concern was what bugs you would catch at the river near your village or who could climb to the treetops faster. You just... you keep remembering his face, the night your mother announced her engagement, and his words won’t stop playing on repeat in your head. “I’ve let you step all over me our whole lives”, he had said. You... don’t want to be that person to him. Not anymore. 

Jin feels guilt eat at him when your brow furrows. It’s clear that his earlier words to you at the portal are affecting you profoundly. Which had never been his intention- he had been hurt and confused and had lashed out. He doesn’t actually think you’re selfish and immature. You have your moments, for sure, and he’s not about to go singing your praises off roof tops any time soon, but the level of guilt and self-loathing you are experiencing in response to his earlier outburst is more than he intended. 

You flinch when you feel pressure at the space between your brows. Jin is pressing his index finger into the crease that has formed there in your moping.

“Relax.” He sighs. “You know we could have just shared?”

He unzips the sleeping bag and spreads it and shuffles forward until he can spread it over the two of you like a blanket. He leans against the tree trunk you rest against as well. You find yourself huddling in closer to him, just on instinct, because as embarrassing as it is to admit to yourself, you’re freezing. And Jin’s body heat feels like the inside of a toaster.

Jin clears his throat awkwardly. He hadn’t expected you to cave quite so easily and curl into him like that. A peaceful moment of silence lingers in the air, however, until he breaks it.

“(Y/N).” He says slowly. “I know things have been awkward between us, and I know that over the past few days we’ve said a lot of things to each other, but I want you to know you don’t have to try so hard.” 

“I do.” You insist. “Jin... every word you said about me earlier was true. I’ve been so selfish, and immature and you’re the one who’s had to suffer because of that.”

Jin chews at the inside of his cheek for a moment, before dropping his gaze. 

“I was wrong to say those things.” He finally says. “You can be immature and selfish sometimes, but I shouldn’t have said it like that. And I shouldn’t have said those things about your father. I know... I know you’re trying, (Y/N). And it probably seems like I’m really harsh on you and only seem to nag you all the time, but that’s because I know you’re so much more than what you let yourself be. So please. Just relax, and be yourself. I’ve known with you my whole life- I don’t want a personality transplant.”

When he finally gathers the courage to look at you again, you are gazing up at him with round, watery eyes. The look in your eyes is a little overwhelming. It’s the same look you always give him; like he’s a hero, who can only do right. He bites his lip- there it is again. That urge, to live up to the image he knows you have of him in your head. 

“I never thanked you, you know.” He says suddenly, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome that urge. You merely continue to gaze up at him. Jin is always handsome in a way that is otherworldly, but up close he’s simply overwhelming. You can just barely make out his face, but even in the meagre light, your heart still does a weird pulse against your ribs when you meet his dark eyes.

“For what?” You finally say, and it’s a struggle for you to keep your voice even under the weight of his gaze. He shrugs and smiles, pulling you in close enough that you have to shift to avoid crushing Jungkook in your pocket. 

“For saving me.” He says. “I think I was too shocked earlier to say it, but I really thought I was going to die back there. So, thank you.” 

“You were in trouble because of me.” You point out. “It wasn’t bravery. If anything had happened to you, it would have been my fault.” 

Jin nods, pressing his lips together awkwardly. He doesn’t know what he can say to convince you otherwise, so he forgoes giving you an answer. Instead, he reaches his hand up to press against the side of your head until you are forced to rest lay your head down against his shoulder. 

“Go to sleep, (Y/N).” He whispers. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.” 

He feels your body relax beside him, and your head sinks against him. He cannot resist the smile that slides onto his face, and he turns his head away, lest you look up and see it. He’s missed moments like these. They are few and far between, especially as of late since you’ve been avoiding him more and more. In the silence that follows, he thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, but then you break it.

“Jin.” You say softly. The words are hardly more than a whisper, almost lost in the exhale of your breath. If he weren’t a guardian with enhanced hearing, he surely would have missed them. 

“Yeah?” He asks, allowing his head to drop so that it rests against the crown of your head. Tomorrow he will wake up with a kink in his neck, but it’s almost worth it.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” The confession holds a lot of weight for you. For just yesterday, you had had every intention of letting Jin fade from your life. Of letting your insecurities and sense of inferiority guide you. You had hated him, the way he made you feel, the way that you could never be around him without remembering all the ways in which you did not and could not measure up to him and the kind of people he liked to keep company with. But at the same time... you cannot hate him. You want to despise him, to let the feelings of jealousy and misery consume you, to continue to mope if your pity party, but this is Jin. The person who has been there for you in your darkest moments even if he did not want to be. The man who could not leave you, even when he should have. The man who had cradled you like you were something precious as you fell through into this realm.

“I know.” He sighs, turning his head away to gaze up at the fractured glimpses of the stars above. “I was letting you.” He confesses right back to you. The words hover between you and it forces you to confront how messed up the relationship has become between you. If you continue to do nothing about it, you really will lose him. 

But you don’t want that to happen. You know that now, after everything the two of you have endured together. You want him in your life. And it’s not too late to fix it all. You really, truly believe that.

“But I don’t want to avoid you anymore.” You announce, and Jin snorts. 

“I figured, since you pretty much begged me to spend the next two weeks with you and the fruit fly.” He observes, and you smile and look away. “Now go to sleep. We have nearly two weeks of hiking ahead of us and I have every intention of making you carry me if my feet hurt.” He sniffs. You can’t resist one last parting shot before allowing yourself to drift off, however. 

“Thank you.” You call softly, right when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. He stirs slightly and glances down at you in surprise. You shift and peer up at him with sleepy but warm eyes.  And something about the look makes his throat feel tight and the tips of his ears feel hot and he is once again struck by the thought that you suddenly don’t look like the annoying little girl that he’s known all his life. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy to him that night. He’s not really sure why, other than the fact that he feels strangely aware of the way the warmth of your body spreads to his beneath the cover of the bed roll, and the way your shoulders rise and fall in steady comforting breaths. It must eventually lull him to sleep, however, for when he rouses, you are still fast asleep, but Jungkook peers at him with amusement from his position on Jin’s outstretched knee. Jungkook lies flat on his stomach which his legs kicked up in the air like he is a young girl at a sleepover about to spill the secrets of her latest crush to her friends. 

The pleased, almost catlike smile Jungkook gives as he rests his chin in his hands and kicks his legs back and forth has Jin instantly on his guard. He and the oversized mosquito don’t get along at the best of times, and Jin knows Jungkook well enough to discern that a look like that on the pesky pixie’s face only spells trouble for Jin. 

“So...” Jungkook begins, drawing out the “so” for an obnoxiously long amount of time. Beside him, you still snooze peacefully, unaware of the trouble that is about to unfold. Jin shifts slightly so that he is in prime position to glare at Jungkook with full power, taking care not to jostle your head where it rests against his shoulder. 

“What?” Jin asks. To his credit, he doesn’t snap or anything like that, which is rare when it comes to Jungkook. He has the unique ability make Jin lose his temper, which is usually a rare occurrence. (Excluding any involvement with you, of course) 

“Nothing. You just look very comfortable.” Jungkook observes, with a pointed look at your sleeping form. You shift and tuck your head more securely against Jin. His gaze flicks back for a moment, distracted by the movement, and when he turns back to Jungkook, Jungkook’s tiny smile has widened. 

“Jungkook...” Jin calls warningly, although he is unsure as to what he is cautioning Jungkook against with the edge in his tone. He just knows that he will not like whatever comes out of Jungkook’s mouth next. 

“When’s...” Jungkook has to pause in a fit of snickering, struggling to get the words out because he really thinks he’s that funny. “When’s the wedding?”

Jin is silent at Jungkook’s little joke, and Jin’s lack of response has Jungkook almost rolling off Jin’s knee with the force of his guffaws. The noise is loud enough to cause you to stir in your sleep. Jin ignores this, however, because he knows from past experiences that your bed could literally be on fire and you’d remain asleep. 

When Jungkook finally calms down enough to stop laughing, he pauses at the glare present on Jin’s face. 

“What?” He questions, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Is it really that offensive?” Then his expression turns mischievous. “Does it hit too close to home? Me implying you like her in that way?” His wings raise him up in the air so that he is eye level with Jin, and he lounges mid-air, idly examining his nails. 

“No.” Jin snaps, shifting uncomfortably. The weight of your head against him, previously comforting, now seems to weigh him down. He feels pinned in place, and his lungs feel stiff like they are refusing to expand. “I’m just astounded at how you can make such a ridiculous joke. I’d never like her.”

Jungkook shrugs, spinning around in the air so that his back points to the ground like he’s lying in a hammock, and folds his arms behind his head. 

“I mean if you’d seen the look on your face when she got sucked into the portal, you’d probably be thinking the same thing as me.” Jungkook points out. Jin grits his teeth- he cannot explain the sudden unease he feels, the way Jungkook’s words seem to burrow under his skin and make the world seem off-kilter. It’s not like people haven’t made jokes about him liking you before- some of his exes have even dumped him because they were so unsure about how he felt towards you. But this makes him uncomfortable, for some reason. The way that Jungkook watches him, seemingly nonchalant, but concealing sharp, observant eyes, just gets to him.

“Wouldn’t you have been concerned if your friend was getting sucked into a dangerous portal?” Jin retorts, oddly defensive. Jungkook taps his fingers ponderingly against his chin. 

“My friends are you, Taehyung and (Y/N).” Jungkook reminds him. “You’re literally members of the most feared species in this entire realm. I wouldn’t have to feel concerned. But that’s off topic anyway. Even if I were hypothetically human and could have something like a friend... I don’t think I would have pulled the same face you did in that moment.” He sits up and meets Jin’s gaze steadily. He’s serious in a way that Jin has never really seen Jungkook be before. “You looked like your entire world was about to end.” 

Jin is silent because he has no defence against Jungkook’s observations. He’d looked that way because he’d felt that way. He’d tried so hard, in that moment, to walk away from you. To leave you to your own devices. But then he’d been struck by that feeling- the fear of losing you. Of not having you in his life. It’s a similar feeling to dangling over cliff face by his fingertips.

“I’m just saying,” Jungkook announces, as reclines lazily in the air once more. “You go on dates with literally any female with a pulse... why not with the most convenient female you know?”

Jin stares in consternation at Jungkook because he is absolutely floored by the absurdity of Jungkook’s statement. Dating you would be anything but convenient. It would be the most troublesome, headache inducing investment of his life.

Suddenly, you shift once more, bringing up a hand to curl into the material of Jin’s shirt, and he allows his gaze to fix on you, on the way hair hangs in your face and your lashes rest against the apples of your cheeks. Dating you is amongst the stupidest suggestions Jungkook has ever made. Because dating you means... well, because it means risking you. Risking you seeing him differently, risking you seeing all the ugly things about his personality that you’re currently blind to... it means risking your position in his life. Because as it stands, you are already avoiding him and pulling away from him - if he were to date you and then things didn’t work out... he’d never see you again. 

This is all hypothetical of course. Jin isn’t even interested in dating you. He doesn’t and probably never will see you in that way. 

“Listen, Jungkook,” Jin finally says. “Maybe you got the wrong idea, but let me make it clear for you: I have never, and will never see (Y/N) in that way. She’s just someone I have a responsibility towards; nothing more, nothing less. Besides, back home I have a queue of women waiting for me- do you really think I’d settle for someone like her?”

The words sound harsh and rattle around in the air and Jin regrets them as soon as he says them. But he can’t take them back, once he’s said them, and the words are true. Or at least, they have to be true. Jungkook shrugs like he couldn’t care less, which, really, based off Jin’s knowledge of Jungkook, is probably true. 

“If you say so.” Jungkook says dismissively, and Jin is saved any further answer or uncomfortable answer by you rousing slowly. You blink sleepily at Jin a few times, and he only just manages to catch you by the forehead when you go to lean your head back against him and settle back into sleep. 

“Not so fast.” Jin scolds, secretly grateful for the distraction and wanting to dwell on something other than the unpleasant churning in his stomach Jungkook’s words have triggered. “No more sleeping.”

You groan and push away from Jin, ready to curl up on the forest floor. 

And Jin misses the disbelieving look Jungkook shoots the two of you in his distraction. Because he can’t see what Jungkook sees in that moment, and that is the thinly veiled affection and warmth that lingers in his eyes despite the scolding that follows. 

Jungkook sighs and shakes his head- Jin will figure it out eventually. 

++

The journey after that night is supposed to go smoothly. After your chat with Jin that night, you feel that a burden has lifted from your shoulders. You never realised how something as simple as talking to Jin could clear the air. It wasn’t so much the things that were said, but just the way that you now know that Jin is no longer holding it against you. It gives you hope, that things can be normal- you can be friends once again. So as the three of you set off, you expect the journey from there to be the light-hearted, soul-searching endeavour you had set out to have. 

Only, from that night Jin starts acting strange. It’s weird- you had felt so relieved and freed by your conversation, but it seems to have had the opposite effect on Jin. He is tense and cranky, always snapping at Jungkook. He’s never rude to you, at least, but he is oddly reserved. The three of you start to approach the edge of the forest- the bluish peaks of the Mountains of Delaria peak through the canopy overhead and the tree start to clear, but Jin’s mood does not seem to clear. You can’t find a cause or rational explanation for it.

Perhaps it doesn’t help that Jungkook seems to thrive on Jin’s irritation.

“I spy... with my little eye.... something starting with “T”.” Jungkook hums, right beside your ear where he is seated, cross legged on your shoulder a couple of days after that night. You spot Jin’s eye twitch slightly in the way that it does when he is really, truly annoyed. Today he has been especially on edge, and with each passing moment, Jungkook’s grin widens and Jin’s ire increases.

“Tree?” Jin suggests with gritted teeth, and Jungkook’s eyes widen. 

“Wow that’s the third time you’ve guessed it on the first go!” Jungkook cries, his voice laden with admiration. You have no doubt that it isn’t a genuine admiration. Jungkook is absolutely taking advantage of the older guardian’s foul mood.

“It’s the fourth time you’ve used “tree” as your word!” The outburst comes so suddenly that you flinch and Jungkook nearly tumbles off your shoulder. You wince- you had been trying to ease the tension that hovered in the air with a simple game, but you guess after four hours, Jin’s patience has run thin. It’s better than the conversation earlier that morning, where Jungkook was talking about his favourite romcoms and Jin’s hands kept twitching like he’s just barely restraining himself from going after the irritating creature.

“That’s not true.” Jungkook argues and you know he’s pushing it purely to be contrary. “Two rounds ago the word was “twig”!” 

You reach out hastily to plant a hand on Jin’s shoulder, hoping to placate him before he grabs Jungkook and launches him like a javelin across the forest floor. Jungkook would probably enjoy it, but you don’t know that he’d survive it. Jin blinks in surprise at your hand, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He then very subtly shrugs off your hand, in such a gentle manner that you almost feel like you imagined it. It’s weird- you don’t know why such a simple and meaningless gesture hurts, but it does. You quickly withdraw your hands and flex your fingers in an attempt to shake off the embarrassment.

“L-let’s try a different game!” You suggest in a desperate attempt to salvage things before Jin actually goes looking for bug spray. He glares at you for a moment, but then his expression softens just slightly. He takes a long, slow inhale and squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them again, his expression is calmer. 

“What did you have in mind?” He asks at last.

“It’s a word association game.” You explain hastily, knowing Jin’s temper is hovering by a thread and one wrong word will launch him into a Jant. “We count to three and then say the first word to come to mind. And then we have to say a word associated with the words we just said, until we guess the same word. Ready, Jungkook and I will go first, we play this game all the time.” 

You shoot Jungkook a warning glare to remind him to behave. You then inhale deeply and prepare yourself.

“Three... two... one...” you count down. “Leaf!” You cry in the same moment that Jungkook shouts “Tree!” In top volume. 

You aren’t quick enough to stop Jin when he makes a furious grab for Jungkook. You’re not sure how you get Jungkook out of that situation alive, because things go a bit blurry after that. And you still don’t have an explanation for Jin’s behaviour.

And if it were just his crankiness with Jungkook, maybe you could justify it. Jungkook, after all, is very annoying. But it’s his attitude to you that really baffles you. He suddenly treats you like you have the plague- he’ll accidentally brush your hand and then suddenly scramble away until the two of you are walking a metre apart. He refuses to share the bedroll again- instead he curls up on the cold forest floor and shivers the whole night, and any attempts to get him share like that first night have him responding with such vehemence you have to stop yourself from tearing up in hurt. You wish he’d just explain.

Finally, things come to a head right at the very edge of the forest, where the three of you will finally be able to enter a village and restock supplies and pick up another bed roll. The confrontation comes in the form of Jin screeching like his life depends on it. Of course, you are instantly on your guard, searching out the danger he faces and ready to fight off any intruders alerted to your location by his scream. But you fail to locate any obvious threats to Jin, who continues to dance about wildly, still in near hysterics. 

“What’s wrong?” You cry, managing to grab his shoulders and barely evading his swinging arms. Jin regards you with eyes on the verge of dislodging from their sockets, his face red with exertion and veins popping in his neck. And then his gaze drops down to his trouser leg. 

Instantly, the fight leaves you when you notice the most exquisite beetle you have ever had the fortune to lay eyes upon. Gaze filled with wonder, you instantly drop to a crouch and stretch your hand towards Jin’s leg, allowing the tiny creature to disembark from the dark grey fabric onto your outstretched hands. The sight of it brings back fond memories instantly, of playing in the sunshine with Taehyung, chasing such beetles in the hopes that you could keep them as pets. The term for them was “rabjou” but Taehyung and you had dubbed them “gem bugs”, for the shimmering structures that protruded from their carapaces, catching the light and scattering it in the way that a precious diamond might. You observe the shimmering ruby carapace as the beetle makes a slow march across your index finger, before turning to Jin excitedly, momentarily forgetting his odd behaviour.

“Look Jin!” You cry, holding the beetle close to him until he nearly goes cross-eyed trying to keep it in sight. “It’s a gem bug! Like the ones we used to play with when we were kids-“

“He doesn’t look so good.” Jungkook notes suddenly, in the same moment that Jin’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he crumbles in a faint. You barely have time to catch him with one arm, holding the other aloft in an attempt to protect the gembug, and it is then that you recall why Jin is not in any of your memories of the time spent chasing these bugs. 

Because he’s deathly afraid of any and all bugs. 

The bug spreads it’s wings and quickly alights from its perch upon your finger, leaving you to clean up the aftermath of its presence. You stare in horror, wondering how to handle this situation, but Jin starts to rouse a few moments later, much to your relief. His eyelids flutter and his head lolls in your arms. He blinks a few moments, staring up at you with bleary, disorientated eyes. A puzzled, dopey smile curls at his lips. But then full consciousness hits and his eyes bulge with horror.

And then he’s scrambling away from you like he’s been burnt by you. You didn’t even know the crab-like scurry he does backwards out of your arms was physically possibly. His eyes are so wide and panicked that for a second you think that maybe the bug has returned. But after a quick check over of your body for any unusual flashes of red, you realise that it’s you that Jin stares at with such alarm and panic. 

Something in you feels like it shrivels. Maybe it’s your heart. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact emotion. But just a few days ago, you had finally felt like things could be patched up between you and Jin, but now that he’s acting like this... maybe the gap is insurmountable. Maybe there’s just been too much damage. Maybe there’s no avoiding losing Jin from your life. You haven’t felt this hopeless since that incident in highschool all those years ago.

Jungkook lands on your shoulder and quirks an eyebrow when he notices the hurt expression on your face. 

“Why do you look like that?” He asks, ignoring Jin who is busying himself with getting to his feet and brushing the dirt from his clothes. 

“Like what?” You ask, quickly angling your head away. 

“I dunno... like you’re constipated or something.” He observes. “Or like someone punched you in the stomach.”

You bite your lip as you gather yourself. Jin has turned away with Jungkook’s observation. You are probably pulling that face because you are upset. But there’s no use in being hurt or frustrated by Jin’s actions- you need to understand them. You’ve spent long enough sitting and moping and being miserable, and you know now that the only way the two of you are going to get through this is if you don’t let his odd behaviour slide. You square your shoulders and stare at Jin, long and hard. His shoulders have gone tense and his back is facing you- you can see the tension written into every line of his posture. 

“Because I’m upset.” You announce assertively. You whirl on Jin, then. “What’s wrong with you?” You demand. Jin shoots a furtive glance at you and shoves his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Nothing.” He mumbles. “It was a bug.” His gaze flicks to Jungkook, who watches him curiously. You have a feeling Jin’s not talking about the gem bug. Annoyed, you step forward and press a hand onto Jin’s shoulder, forcing him to turn and face you. He avoids your gaze though- his eyes dart around like a they’re in a pinball machine, despite your best efforts to look him in the eye. 

“Jin.” You call sternly, folding your arms in what you hope is an imposing posture. Jungkook sits cross-legged on your shoulder with his ankles grasped in his hands. He looks like he’s watching an entertaining soap opera. “You need to explain. Why are you acting like this? You’re cranky with Jungkook and you’re treating me like I have the plague. Are you... are you still mad about the stuff we talked about the other night?” Your tone wavers just a little. Jin’s eyes widen and he meets your gaze. He looks so uncertain when he does so- nothing at all like the confident, clever Jin you’ve known all your life. It makes you pause. “Did... did I do something wrong?” You question and he hangs his head, scrubbing a frustrated hand over his face. 

“No! Nothing like that. I’m... I’m sorry if it feels that way.” He corrects hastily. “I just...” he buries his face in his hands and the tips of his ears go red, before he raises his gaze to glare openly at Jungkook. “Jungkook made a stupid joke and I was trying to prove him wrong. I’m sorry- it was stupid of me to take it out on you.”

You blink in confusion, while Jungkook starts snickering at Jin. You pluck Jungkook off your shoulder by the back of the tiny hoodie he’s chosen to wear today so that you can stare at him. He dangles from between your thumb and forefinger.

“What’d you say?” You question suspiciously. Jungkook shrugs and grins like you’ve just gotten him a great Christmas present. He makes no effort to break free from your hold.

“Just wanted to know when the wedding is.” He says, and he still finds the joke as funny as the first time he said it. You stare blankly at him, however. 

“What wedding? My mum’s?” You ask. Jungkook’s jaw drops. 

“No!” He cries out, as if the idea is offensive to him. “Yours! With Jin!” 

Jin has dropped his gaze and glows an interesting shade of red, and you can’t say you understand the situation. 

“We aren’t getting married though?” You point out. You shoot a look at Jin and the tips of his ears are nearly purple. They only tend to go that colour when he is really, truly embarrassed, and rare are the situations where Jin is embarrassed. “Are we?”

Jin splutters in horror for a few moments. 

“Absolutely not!” He blurts, the words choked and frantic. You’re taken aback by his vehemence. Is the concept really that horrifying? You shake the thought off as quickly as it comes and instead focus on the matter at hand; Jin was acting strangely because he was trying to prove he has no romantic feelings for you, it seems. Which... you already knew that. You’ve known that since you were in high school. You hate recalling that incident, but in that moment, it resurfaces despite your best efforts.

You had overheard him having a conversation with some of the other seniors in your school about how you how you have the same amount of appeal as an un-toilet trained puppy. Strictly “not girlfriend” material. It wasn’t a life-changing revelation or anything. And it’s not like you’d had feelings for him at the time. But you can’t deny that things had changed since that day. Jin had firmly been rooted in ‘strictly friends’ territory, and you’d been very, very careful to never let him out of the box he had placed himself in. And you’d done a really good job of never letting the memory bother you- after all, you’d long ago shirked the embarrassment and sadness of that day, and it annoys you that all these years later Jin is resurfacing the feelings of that time when you’re trying. so. hard. to fix things between you. You blink back the hurt tears that threaten to well in your eyes. You’re better than this- and you’ve never wanted him in that way, anyway. At least not since you’d overheard that conversation, you hadn’t.

“You could have just said something.” You mutter resentfully, and even you are surprised at the barely suppressed anger in your tone. Jin whips up his head like he’s been electrocuted. “Like I get it. I’m not girlfriend material. I’m not... I’m not trying to be your girlfriend anyway. And Jungkook’s a dummy who likes to push your buttons. You... I’ve been sitting here panicking over what I could have done wrong and it’s because I’m that gross to you that you need to prove to Jungkook of all people that you don’t like me?”

“Wait-“ Jin protests. “I didn’t mean it like that- I just-“ 

“It’s fine.” You cut him off and to be honest, you can’t really articulate why you’re so torn up over that. It’s not like he even did anything that bad. Just like that incident, back in highschool- he hadn’t said anything bad. He just pulls away when you touched him. He has just been making it very clear how he feels about you. But... it just feels like so much more than something simple as him not wanting to touch you. It’s not like you’re new to the idea anyway. A lot of girls in highschool and a lot of Jin’s girlfriends have always been jealous of your friendship with him and have been quick to point out the ways in which he clearly views you as a friend. And it’s not like you wanted anything more. Or well, maybe a small part of you did, but you were also smarter than that. You had better things to worry about then the fact that Jin doesn’t like you. And everything you’re doing is because you want him back as a friend. You’re not greedy. But... something still hurts. Even after all these years. Even hearing it afresh. “Just forget it. It’s not a big deal. We can just... go back to normal.” 

Not that you even know what normal is with Jin at the moment. Everything is so off-kilter and you’re so confused by everything. You swallow deeply, willing the hurt feelings away. 

“(Y/N),” Jin calls guiltily. 

You wince- not because of the tone of his voice, however. You wince because in the next moment you feel a weird stabbing sensation in the side of your neck. Confused, you raise your hand to your neck. What you find there is an odd, feathered device, tapered to a sharp point that is currently speared into the muscle of your neck. Jin’s eyes widen as he stares as it, and you pull it from your neck. You wince as blood droplets start to flow down the side of your neck. The feathers are a brilliant red, the colour of blood, and the thin pointed tip glistens with your blood. You’ve never seen anything like it, and a weird nauseous feeling floods through you, starting at the wound in the side of your neck and flushing outwards.

“Is that...” Jungkook questions, but then Jin is interrupting him with a pained cry. He flinches violently as a feather device whistles through the air and lodges in the side of his neck. He mirrors your actions- he plucks it from his neck and scrutinises it. You don’t think he’s realised it, but he’s started to sway a bit, much like you have. The nauseous feeling worsens, and Jin has gone pale.

“I think it’s a…” Jin trails away, squinting his eyes and shaking his head as he struggles to focus on it. His voice starts to slur. “It’s a tranquiliser dart-“

The three of you exchange fearful glances and that’s really all you have time to do before your vision swims. And then everything goes black. 

++

When you come to, you are instantly struck with the thought that there have been far too many kidnappings on this trip. You groan in pain, your head still swimming, and find that you have been restrained. Blinking open your eyes, you’re in some kind of encampment- the ground is thick and sponge-y and the houses seem to be made from woven twigs. If you had to describe it… they were almost like birds’ nests. The area is darkened- the foliage here is thicker and almost entire blocks out any light. Lanterns of blues and pinks line the path to compensate for the lack of light. On the edge of the area you see a muddy creek curling around the encampment. It’s more swamp-y than the forest you lost consciousness in.

Behind you, Jin also groans, and that’s when you realise you’ve been tied so you’re back to back with him. Neither of you can move your arms. And there’s a noticeable lack of the sound of fluttering wings. Your eyes go wide.

“Jin,” You gasp in horror. He grunts, trying to adjust his position so he’s more comfortable but he just ends up pushing you forwards. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“The pixie is here.” An unfamiliar, high-pitched voice calls. Your eyes widen at the interruption, and you turn your head to find a humanoid figure. Well, humanoid in that it stands on two legs and seems to have functioning arms. But if you were being pedantic about what living creature it resembles, you would have to say it’s more birdlike. Complete with a thick, yellow-ish beak like it’s an eagle, and brightly coloured plumage coating its entire body, apart from the white feathered head. It wears clothes- loose, airy fabrics like it’s straight out of a live-action adaptation of Aladdin, in a rich purple that compliments the bright red of its feathers. A brilliant plume of feathers sprouts from the top of its head and flows downwards like a waterfall. And held aloft in a clawed hand, protruding from the appendage that is a weird cross of an arm and a wing, is a small glass jar, with Jungkook snoozing obliviously within its depths.

“Jungkook!” You cry. Your eyes widen in horror. You immediately begin to scrabble around wildly, but with your arms pinned to your side with the coarse rope, and your back planted against Jin’s, you realise you aren’t going anywhere any time soon. You gaze around the camp, suddenly aware that this bird creature is not the only one- the sensation of being watched creeps along your skin and dozens of pairs of golden eyes peer at you, concealed safely in the shadows of the camp.

“Give him back!” You demand. Your feet stir up the soft, loamy soil you are seated upon as you kick about wildly, trying to stand, or loosen the bindings that hold you in place. Jungkook is no doubt the most annoying being in existence, but he’s also a precious friend and you couldn’t stand if anything happened to him.

“Calm down, Guardian.” The imposing, birdlike creature calls. “We will return this creature to you, eventually. We needed some leverage for you to hear out our request, for we knew we could not bind you for long.”

And it’s right- already with your frantic flailing, the ropes have started to fray and stretch. Jin does not seem to be as panicked as you, but he does remain still in a way that allows you to pull forward against the bindings, stretching them forward.

“Will you hurt him?” You demand. The bird-like creature turns sharp, hawklike eyes to the jar, peering curiously at the unconscious pixie.

“We will hurt him if you give us reason to hurt him.” It finally answers, tilting its head at you. The move is quick and fluid, like the way an owl’s head flicks around easily as it watches for prey.

“Hypothetically,” Jin cuts in quickly. “What would it take for you to deal with him without a reason from us? Just hypothetically.”

His back is to you, so he doesn’t see the way you glare, but you quickly turn your attention back to the bird-person, gazing up with imploring eyes.

“Anything. We’ll do anything- please. Don’t hurt him.” You beg. You are surprised by the ferocity of the protectiveness you now feel. The only time you have felt a similar amount of concern for him is the time he almost got eaten by a dog. The bird-creature glares down at you for a moment, still dangling the jar with Jungkook in it by the handle. It then combs its claws before the brilliant crest of feathers that flows from the top of its head and cascades down its body like a ponytail and steps forward. It crouches down low until it is eye-level with you.

“The two of you have brought the Saishtas into our territory.” It informs you. “And the Forest Spirit hates Saishtas. They are a foul, disrespectful beast and have been corrupting our swamplands.”

You cower away slightly- the sharp tip of the beak that hovers centimetres from the bridge of your nose could easily gouge out your eye and you’d be defenceless to stop it if this creature choose to do such a horrible thing. You can feel the way Jin’s back has gone rigid with tension behind you.

It straightens then, walking around the two of you to peer curiously at Jin. You crane your neck, trying to keep it in sight, but you can’t turn your head around far enough. Instead you feel Jin flinch.

“Our chief went to placate the Forest Spirit, and she has been taken captive. Luckily for us, two guardians came stumbling in our territory like it were designed by the fates.” It comes back around to face you and folds its feathered arms. The feathers flare outwards like sleeves of a baggy coat. “Rescue her, and we will return your… pixie to you.”

You glare at the creature, staring forlornly at Jungkook. It’s a dangerous request this bird is making. In theory, you could probably snap these ropes with enough exertion and make a grab for Jungkook. But you do not know why he is asleep or what measures they have put in place to ensure you can’t take Jungkook back by force. And you can’t risk his safety.

��What if we don’t want the pixie bac-“ Jin starts, but is quickly cut off by you throwing your head back to headbutt the back of his head. “Ouch! I just meant hypothetically- I was reviewing all our options before we-“

“We’ll do it.” You say hastily. “We agree to your terms. We’ll rescue your chief. Just please… don’t hurt him.”

Something in the posture of the bird-creature softens.

“Of course we get captured by Psittanurans.” Jin mutters resentfully as the creature, a Psittanuran if Jin is to be trusted, bows deeply to you. “Just our luck.”

“You have our word.” The Psittanuran informs you, ignoring Jin’s mumble. “We will not allow harm to come to the pixie, so long as you do not allow harm to come to our chief.”

It makes an odd, clicking noise, snapping its beak together and two more Psittanurans appear, wielding knives. They are in similar attire, brightly coloured, airy clothes, but all are in slightly different colours. One’s feathers are warm, an earthy brown with a deep pink plume of feathers atop the crown of its head, while the other is a midnight blue, like a peacock. They make quick work of releasing the bindings around you, and you and Jin quickly get to your feet. Jin rubs at his arms, looking quite sulky- he’s probably upset over being kidnapped yet again.

You glare at the main bird, the instigator, as it steps out towards you and reaches a clawed talon towards you. It presses the tip to your forehead, and you wince at the slight pressure.

And then your eyes widen as images flood your head- a dark cave, a bone white cliffside, their chief held captive, and Saishtas, lurking behind every corner. And the whole time, an overcast presence lurking behind every step of the journey- you can feel its churning fury, bubbling beneath the surface, and you shudder. When you open your eyes, the Psittanuran gazes down at you curiously.

“Do you understand what you must do?” It asks. Your heartbeat is in your throat and you’ve broken out in a cold sweat- you are not sure you have the strength to overcome this beast, let alone rescue the chief. Your gaze flicks to Jungkook, who has been so soundly asleep that you suspect it is actually some form of enchantment that keeps him slumbering.

Jin must sense your fear because you feel his hand slip into yours. His palms are slick with sweat, and there’s a slight shake to them. You realise then that he’s been absolutely terrified this whole time. You spare him a glance, and he meets your eyes head on.

You don’t know why, but you feel your heartbeat calm when he meets your eyes. It’s an impossible, terrifying task before you, but he’ll be beside you the whole time. That’s what the look in his eyes reassures you. No matter what happens or has happened between you, despite your fight, despite the weird state of things right now, Jin will be by your side.

You swallow deeply and nod at the Psittanuran.

“I do.” You solemnly agree, unsure what the journey ahead may bring.

But you have to save Jungkook.

[imtrying-butimpissed]

How do deal with hearing about diet culture? I’m in a relapse with my Ed (bulimia) for about a year now and how do i deal with hearing about weight loss, calories ect? I’m in the process of getting into treatment again and I’m currently working with a dietitian and therapist doing outpatient. But my dietitian knows I need more help than what I’m getting and with being in my home environment 95% of the time it’s been quite difficult to get better. My sister had started to lose weight during the middle of quarantine and is getting weight loss surgery soon and her and I had an argument because all I asked of her was not to talk about calories or anything about food while I’m trying to eat and follow my meal plan. She got all defensive and was saying how she shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells for me and that I need to handle my triggers better. I also struggle with borderline personality disorder which also makes it difficult for me to regulate my emotions. My family has always been bigger and even in treatment I was always the biggest one there and it was so invalidating. What I’m trying to ask is how do I try to get better in an environment that’s so invested into dieting but also how can I make my motivation for recovery better because I constantly put myself down and tell myself I don’t need to get better because I’m fat or not sick enough to get better.

Changing environment. Changing mindset. Changing support system.

I also lived in a similar environment but it was my mother who decided to be extra loud about calories right after I told her I was diagnosed with bulimia. She also had weight loss surgery and would show off how little she would eat and talk about how she would throw up all the time. It was the most infuriating and painful thing. It sent my ed spiraling and I struggled for years because of it and because if her negligence.

Sometimes the people who should care the most will end up caring the least. And there isn't much that can convince them to give a crap.

I wish I could give you some tips but if they don't shut the fuck up about it around you, you won't get better. And until they actually LISTEN to you and your needs, you will continue to struggle. Idk how old you are or your financial standing, but if you are able to find a different living situation, that would be pretty sweet and totally beneficial. If not, just avoiding them can help. I would have movie marathons alone in my room to avoid my triggering family. I'd also eat by myself too.

Getting rid of opportunities for triggers is cool. Stop spending time with them. Doesn't do you any good.

I know it's super common for literally everyone with an ed to think we aren't actually sick enough. Dude the fact that you even took the time to ask me about it proves you are suck enough. Someone who isn't sick wouldn't be in treatment, wouldn't be with a dietitian or therapist or in outpatient or be needing more treatment options. Someone who wasn't sick enough wouldn't be in all of those things you are in right now. Someone who wasn't sick enough would not be triggered over diet talk from people around them. You ARE sick enough.

You need to tell yourself you are sick enough over and over until you believe it yourself. Even when people around you don't seem to believe it, what matters is if YOU believe it. What they think is irrelevant. Your recovery is about you, not them.

Put your time into other people. Whether it's friends IRL or even people online. Put your time into people who actually support you, and stop putting your time into the people who continue to trigger you.

I have a hard time with keeping my cool too especially with confrontation. Writing it out in a letter could be helpful. Getting your thoughts out in a nonconfrontational way, and giving it to your shitty family so they can read it and not feel threatened, and then can respond in their own way. You could even request they only respond to your letter by writing their own letter. Takes out the emotional conversation part. Try it out.

Also... There isn't going to be any instant fix. The reality is, not everyone is able to make the changes that will benefit them best. Especially changing environment. Packing up and moving to someplace new isn't really an option for a lot of people. It's fucking shitty but sometimes you just gotta power through. Gotta deal with it until you don't have to anymore. If you can't move now, you certainly will in the future. And you gotta keep fighting the good fight until you get there. You know?

It DOES get better. It's happened to me, it will happen for you. It really does get better. Keep fighting until you get there, trust me.

Please take care

[vampiregirl1797]

Bad Days End With Cuddles

GIF Not Mine.

 Summary: You have an argument with your father, but what else is new? You’re left feeling sad, anxious and wishing your profiler boyfriend was home. Don’t worry, he gets there eventually and when he does, cuddles are in store.

 Warnings: Some family inspired angst but it ends in fluff, I promise.

 Click Here For Masterlist.

 Word Count: 2,230.

 Spencer Reid x Reader

 Today was a bad day. There were perhaps more eloquent ways of describing it, but that’s what I was going with. It was bad. It hadn’t started out that way; the morning and most of the afternoon had actually been pretty normal. I woke around noon, had some toast for breakfast and spent most of the day watching the Big Bang Theory on Netflix. All was well, until I received that phone call from my father. He spent fifteen minutes yelling at me for a post I’d shared on Facebook with some of my thoughts added onto it. Apparently he disagreed and spent a quarter of an hour yelling his opinions, not listening to what I had to say, and telling me I had no right to be angry because it was his opinion. The phone call ended with tears forming in my eyes and a lump of despair in my gut. That was how most conversations with him ended, and I don’t know why I hoped for something different every time I picked up the phone.

Since I’d moved out four years ago, things had been better, but that just meant my interactions with him were now minimised, it didn’t have any affect on how the conversations ended, which was usually with me in tears.

 I always felt bad for even thinking it, but my life with my father in it had meant unhappiness for me. When I lived at home, I was constantly walking on eggshells, taking care with my words when it actually came to speaking to him. I was never completely relaxed whenever he was home, because I knew how quickly his temper could change. He wasn’t physically abusive, but knowing he could go from joking to furious in a three second interval prevented me from feeling comfortable in my own house. Which was why it was such a relief when I could finally afford to move out and buy an apartment of my own. It hadn’t been anything fancy, but it was big enough for me, fairly close to work, and most importantly it was mine. Somewhere I could be me; somewhere I could be completely relaxed. It was a place where I could leave the place a complete mess and decide when I wanted to clean it up, rather than living under one roof with three other people and being anxious as to whether my dad would target his anger in my direction when the messy house was suddenly unacceptable.

 It was my safe haven, and it stayed that way until I met my boyfriend a year and a half after I’d moved in. Spencer Reid, special agent for the FBI, behavioural analyst, doctor and love of my life. We’d met when he’d passed through my hometown with his team to catch a serial killer who was engraving pentagrams into his victims’ foreheads. I’d been interviewed as I’d treated one of the victim’s a few hours before his death at the ER, where I’d worked as a nurse. Something had sparked between us, and I thought I’d imagined it until he returned the following day after the unsub had been caught, to ask me for my number.

 We kept in touch as best as we could, both of us worked long hours, but him especially. But we made a point to make time for one another, whether it be a random text at any hour of the day, or a phone call that stretched from five minutes to five hours depending if we both had the time or not. And despite the distance, I had been happy to have him in my life, I looked forward to hearing his voice, or checking my phone on my break at work to be greeted by a text from him. Weekend trips were managed once a month, I went to him a few times, but usually he came to me, eager to create some distance between him and Virginia for a few days. He loved his job, but he confided that a little space to be with me and to only have to focus on me was somewhat of a reprieve for him, something he didn’t realise just how much he needed until he met me.

 This continued for six months, until I realised that my sanctuary lost its calm, its tranquillity when he left me after our weekends together. He had become my happy place, my home. So, I’d tentatively proposed the idea of me moving to Quantico so that we could be closer. He’d beamed at the idea and just as bashfully asked me to live with him instead. I’d accepted, and now here I was, at our apartment on one of my rare days off, crying, anxious, frustrated and hurt. Spence was on a case here in Virginia, which meant he was working from their home base. I briefly considered calling him, but I banished that thought before it could fully form. He needed to be fully present at work and I’d never forgive myself if my problems clouded his mind and prevented him from doing his job. He’d never blame me of course and if he knew I was thinking this way he would be quick to assure me that I can always come to him, no matter what case he’s working on. But I couldn’t be that selfish.

 So with a sigh I tossed the grey comforter I’d pulled around myself aside and headed for the bathroom. A bath with one of my bath bombs would help, at least I hoped—I planned on closing my eyes and pretending Spencer was there; assuring me everything was going to be all right. But when I reached into the wicker basket that held my bath necessities, all of my bath bombs were gone. A fresh wave of tears fell down my cheeks, perhaps an overreaction, but I already felt so low—couldn’t I just have something to make me feel better? I decided to forget the bath idea and headed into our bedroom instead, climbing into the centre of the queen-sized bed, curling up into a ball under the covers while hugging Spence’s pillow to my chest. His cologne was faint in the cotton, but it was enough to ease the ball of sadness in my gut. A small sigh fell from my lips as my eyes slipped closed, unconsciousness eager to claim me and I wasn’t about to fight the reprieve from the melancholy.

 //

 I wasn’t sure what bought me to the land of consciousness, but it bought me so gently that it took me a moment to realise that I’d actually woken up. I blinked a few times, urging the sleep out of my eyes, as a yawn worked its way up my throat. I looked around the dark room, able to see the basic outlines of furniture thanks to the slither of light shining in from the hallway. That made me pause—I’d come for a nap in the early afternoon so I hadn’t left any lights on. That meant Spencer was home. A burst of energy shot up my spine as I shimmied out of the thick duvet to look for my boyfriend. I found him in his armchair, his brow wrinkled in thought as he read over the case file in his lap. The sight warmed my heart—I loved seeing his expression of concentration, how his lips pursed and his brow furrowed—and made me hesitate. I didn’t want to disturb him if he was still working. He must have sensed that I’d joined him in the room as he looked up, his eyes beaming with happiness as he took in my sleepy, dishevelled appearance. No matter how I looked, he always stared at me with such love, adoration and bewilderment, as if he couldn’t believe I was stood here in front of him. I felt my cheeks darken, as they always did, and my smile mirrored his own as it grew on his lips.

 ‘Hey honey, are you still working?’ I asked, my voice thick with sleep. I crossed my arms over my chest as I attempted not to fidget and show just how much I needed him to hold me right now.

 ‘Not at all. Just filling in some paperwork, but that can wait, come here darling.’ He tossed the case file onto the coffee table in front of him and held his arms open by way of invitation.

 I didn’t hesitate, closing the five-steps that separated us with ease and climbing into his lap. The softness of his cardigan, his warmth and the cologne that was a lot stronger than what lingered on his pillow, made me melt into him. A long sigh left my lips as all of the tense emotions left my body, leaving behind the relaxation I only felt in his arms. I tried to hide it in his chest, but of course he wasn’t fooled, he was one of the most observant people I’d ever met, which was typical of a profiler. His hand moved up and down my spine, the touch gentle and coaxing.

 ‘Everything okay?’ his voice was soft and I appreciated it, my eyes fluttering closed as my face nuzzled into the spot in between his neck and shoulder I always sought out.

 ‘My dad called earlier, pissed about the comment I added to the post I shared on Facebook.’ I said, my tone matching his but I knew he felt the few tears that fell onto his shoulder when he held me tighter and kissed my hair.

 I didn’t need to say anything else, he knew about the relationship between my dad and I, and he never commented on it. He never advised me on what to do, and I knew he wouldn’t unless I specifically asked him, but I’d been avoiding that for a while. I had a feeling I knew what he would suggest, and I didn’t know if I was ready to terminate my relationship with my father, because that could mean I’d lose my mother too. As estranged as my relationship was with him, I was close with my mom, and I didn’t know if I could bear losing her. But I’d reached the point where I had to consider it, because I shouldn’t have to go through this when I spoke to my dad. Not every conversation ended this way, but it happened often enough that every interaction had me walking on eggshells for what had the potential to happen.

 ‘Spence… what do you think I should do? With my dad?’ I murmured into the skin of his neck, where my face was safely tucked away.

 ‘His behaviour is consistently repeated and the way he interacts with you isn’t something I see changing without conscious effort from the both of you, and I don’t think you’ll get that from him.’ He paused, kissing my hair, ‘I think you should do whatever is best for you, Y/N. Whatever makes you happy, and whatever that is, you’ll have my support.’

 It was easy to realise when he put it like that. My dad was toxic to my happiness and if I continued to allow him into my life, it would always be that way. Spence was right, it was never going to change, and I was just wasting time and putting myself through this despair in hoping that it would. And if my mother loved me like I loved her, she could continue to be in my life and hopefully respect my decision.

 I pulled back to rest my forehead against his, my eyes fluttered shut at the touch but I forced them open so he could read the emotions in my eyes: love, gratitude and adoration.

 ‘Thank you, Spence.’ I kissed his lips once, ‘you are the most wonderful, kind, considerate person I’ve ever met and I’m so grateful for you every single day. I love you.’

 His eyes softened to cinnamon, his hand caressed the side of my face and he returned the sentiment, whispering the words into the kiss as his lips once again moved with mine. We pulled apart after a few moments and I made us both a mug of camomile tea to take to bed, knowing he’d need the calming herbs to help him sleep. Once we were all snuggled in bed, the hot beverages drained and the lamps turned off, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was. It was something that often crossed my mind, and how could it not when I had someone as amazing as Spencer Reid in my life? The truth was, as tempted as I’d been to cut my father from my life over the years, it hadn’t been something I’d really considered until I had him in my life. Because he was the person who showed me what it was like to have someone you could depend on, always. To have someone whom I knew would love me, and be there for me no matter what I decided to do. To have someone who would support my decisions without judgement or question. The truth was you could face anything alone, but having someone you loved by your side, someone you knew would be by your side, holding your hand no matter what, made the battle that much more bearable.

 A/N: Don’t know where this one came from! I’ve been binge watching Criminal Minds the past few days and binge reading Spencer Reid x Reader fanfiction, so I suppose this was bound to happen. Of course it had to end in fluff, especially with this wonderful man—I have a soft spot for him—though it was mostly angsty I hope you enjoyed!

[lassieposting]

I know you want weird ships but can I blsssss have some valdug? Bls fren

Who starts most fights?

Val. She'll start being sulky and combative, which he's dealt with enough to know it means there's a storm coming. He'll ignore it while they're working, but eventually he'll call her out on it - "You think there's an argument coming, so you've started arguing early. It's what you always do."

Who surrenders at the end of most fights?

It's usually Skug.

Who is more likely to cry during a fight?

Val, by virtue of being the only one with eyes.

Who is more likely to storm out during a fight?

Skug. If she's being especially unreasonable he'll grab his keys and walk out in the middle of whatever she's shouting at him and go drive around until they've both had time to calm down, maybe start some fights with people who aren't Val - but they only have a row this bad every few decades.

Who is louder in fights?

Val. One of the things Ghastly's parents impressed upon Skug way back in the 1500s is that a good man never raises his voice at his lady - he'll yell up the stairs for her or shout instructions while she's learning to fight but he never really shouts at her. She shouts at him though, if he's being too annoying or she's having a depression session or it's that time of the month. Depending on how upset she is and how self-destructive she's feeling, sometimes it actually bugs her more that he won't engage and shout back.

Who is more likely to throw things in fights?

Val. She canonically throws things at him when she's angry with him. Most of the time he sees it coming and deflects it, but she's beaned him in the face a few times over the years. It's. Never really occurred to him that maybe this is Not Okay - he thinks it's normal.

Who is more likely to bring up past mistakes?

Skug, because she has a tendency to be a hypocrite, and that's one thing he prides himself on not being. He can't help himself - he has to butt in if she's being hypocritical. "Let me remind you that you only told me about the Darquesse thing after you had Nye seal your true name. You may continue." He can be really patronizing about it though, and it drives her nuts.

Who is more likely to give the silent treatment?

Val. He...doesn't cope with it very well. Even when she was younger, he'd last a grand total of three days before he'd start bugging her to talk to him again, because he had nobody else to talk to. But now, knowing that she can and will vanish to another country and abandon him for an indeterminate length of time? Lowkey getting the silent treatment makes him worry she's going to disappear on him again, and it stresses him out a lot more.

Who is more likely to blame the other?

Val. Nothing is ever her fault, and he won't really stick up for himself if she bares her metaphorical teeth at him, so it's very easy for her to happily hand over the blame. She often knows, deep down, that she's being unfair or lashing out at him over something unrelated that's upsetting her, but she also has a tendency to find little excuses for things not to be his fault, so. Well yes, I'm stressed about X, but if he hadn't said Y and annoyed me I wouldn't have lost my temper so it's his fault we're fighting.

Who is more likely to blame themselves?

Skug. His problem is that he's used to a certain pattern of behaviour in his relationships - he gravitates towards manipulative, emotionally abusive women. He has all the signs of someone whose abuse started so early - probably with his mother or sisters - that he has no idea it's even happening. He's used to being gaslit and snapped at and told that things are his fault.

And? He never used to have that problem with val. They bickered constantly, and she sulked a lot, and sometimes so did he, but it was all in good humour, there was never any real anger behind it - except for the Vile thing, and honestly, he can't blame her for that. But then she went away, and when she came back, she'd bite his head off for no obvious reason or snap at him for calling her or sit in the passenger seat and scroll through her phone and ignore him for an entire stakeout and if he asks her what's wrong she says, "Nothing! God, I'm grand, okay?" in that voice that says Nothing Here Is Okay so? Of course he's going to slip back into the old pattern of assuming he's done something wrong. That's what it always was in all his other relationships.

Who gets jealous more easily?

Skug. All she has to do is mention Solomon Wreath and she can hear him grinding his teeth from across the room. She on the other hand has never really had cause to feel jealous of anyone else in his life: she knows she's his favourite person and top priority, she knows that given a choice between her and literally anyone else he's been with it wouldn't even be a contest. And at this point all his friends are dead, so he literally doesn't have anyone he cares about left but her anymore.

Who is angered more easily?

Generally, Skug. In their partnership, Val. It's very, very rare that he gets angry with her. She irritates him on the regular, but it's a fond kind of irritation.

Who is more likely to break off the relationship?

Val. He never would, lbh. Skulduggery doesn't know the meaning of "short-term relationship". He committed to 1000+ years with the same woman when he was only 30, China is still his lesson that he can't seem to learn after like four hundred years, Aby was at least a five year relationship. Skug doesn't do short term, and his normal meter is so screwed that even Aby's straight-up abuse didn't chase him off. At this point he's locked in for life.

Who is more likely to threaten to leave?

Val, but she regrets it immediately, and it's not so much threatening as just sort of, entertaining the idea. She knows he didn't have a good time during her five year Colorado-based depression session, and she knows he walks on eggshells now because he doesn't want her to leave again. She just says it occasionally, sometimes I just want to get away from all this or sometimes I think I never should've come back, because part of her does want to leave and go somewhere else and never have to look at Roarhaven again, and she doesn't even think before she opens her stupid mouth and she only realises she just said that out loud because he's gone very stiff and quiet and when she asks him about it he'll either act like he didn't hear her in the first place ("Mm, sorry, what? I was miles away. Did you say something?") or he'll overcompensate and act like he's grand ("Me? No. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. A bit discombobulated, perhaps, but fine [launches into 20 solid minutes of talking at 90mph]") and by that point she feels bad enough that she just lets him and goes quiet because she can't seem to say anything right anymore.

Who is more likely to actually leave?

Also Val. He'd never walk out on her. We all know that.

Who is more likely to forget the other first?

I don't think either of them could ever forget the other, but if we take this as "who'd move on first", it'd be Val. She does seem to like to bounce from relationship to relationship without much of a break in between, and she has considerably more romantic options than he does. Even in self-imposed exile in a pit of self-loathing, where she wouldn't even go into town to buy her own groceries because she Didn't Deserve To See Another Soul, she still had to have a boyfriend.

[deadcapriwalkin]

Dear, You

It’s insane, it’s been half a year and yet I seem to still catch myself thinking about you every single day. I hate that I miss your smile more than anything. I hate that she took you away from me. You would have rather chose a woman who lets you do drugs than the person who was encouraging you to get better for the sake of your health and your future. You would rather move to an entirely different city with a woman who won’t do anything for you besides provide the resources needed for you to have a guiltless fix..

I remember the day I came home, locked myself in the bedroom and your mother gently tapping on the door with the tips of her fingers so she wouldn’t startle me. For all she saw was my face drenched in tears that symbolized pure fear and my lips turning a shade of purple from the panic of losing you. The days you told me I never cared about you behind a phone screen sitting at home while I’m in the middle of the Target aisle holding on to every fiber of my being to not breakdown and cry in front of everyone around me. I loved you so much, the last thing I wanted to do was lose the person whom I thought loved me.

Days you spend taking your anger out on your mother and I because you lost a video game or maybe lost something that was supposed to be in your possession, possibly the drugs you said you didn’t buy but your inability to pay rent that month was soulfully because the first winters snow had you by the throat and taking your every last breath. Your anger was bone rattling, your voice made it seem like there was an Earthquake in the middle of Wisconsin. I was genuinely terrified of the person you may become further down the road. I watched as you made your mother cry because you didn’t give one full damn about what you said to her. The slamming of doors was impossible to ignore between me, you and your mother; two of us crying and you sitting there angry that you upset us due to what you said to us. The things you said to us really put the deepest pit in my stomach and my heart had never felt so heavy.

There was a time where I had thought you would take your anger out on us physically in a black out rage. That was never the case however, the truly disturbing phrases you claimed me to be as a person or how I was just this awful nightmare for you gave me a shock to my system. I felt utterly disgusted with who I was even though the things you said about me I knew for a fact, were false. You made me believe what you were saying was true though. You took my worst nightmare and made it a pure reality for me.. So I hid from you, locked myself away from you slowly what felt like decaying in a dark room with the food I had snuck into the bedroom without you being home so that way if you saw my face you wouldn’t get upset. The old food on the floor, the truly painful depression setting in to my aching, terrified muscles. Flinching at the sound of footsteps coming towards the door.. Sadly it was never you to come and check in on me.. Your mother was the only one who out of the kindness of her heart, cared about how I felt. Seemed like every single thing angered you, and on the good days I would make sure to walk on eggshells to make sure that, that day you did not strain yourself from yelling. You never seemed to care, I loved you and you were my everything.

I was really fooled on what the depiction of love was. I knew couples fought but this was a complete 180 compared to the normal lovers bickering. Of course, there were good days. But at the end of said days, I still slept in the bed while tears silently poured down my face burning my hot red cheeks while you’re facing the opposite way.. There was no more goodnight kisses from you. 

Crying myself to sleep had become a ritual. It was sooner than later that I had starting sniffling in bed for a different reason other than your anger. The man I loved whom slept next to me at night had been sleeping with another woman. I have to say, you sir were not sneaky. Between the “smoking sessions” with your buddies and not returning until early the next morning to sneaking her into the house after I had told you that I don’t feel comfortable with her in my home. As soon as she had set foot in our living room my body froze into fight or flight mode. She would always pretend to be nice to me, she hadn’t a clue that I had known about the tussles in the sheets after hours. Either of them did not realize that I had certain resources that would tell me a recap whenever he would visit her. I had known how long they’d being seeing each other behind my back for a while at this point and our relationship would just go further downhill to the point he wouldn’t sleep in the bed anymore and I had changed the locks on the bedroom door. My house didn’t feel like home anymore, my little family was being ripped out of my grasp and placed firmly into hers. I was losing every sense of hope I had left.. 

I have regrets please do not get me wrong. Granted, I struggled with forming the correct sentences when attempting to explain myself and how I felt. It was if no matter how I said anything you got angry at me for feeling emotions that I couldn’t control. I would stumble over words, stutter when frazzled and become over emotional because, all I wanted to do was tell you how i felt inside. How it felt to lay in a pit of stomach pressure and an empty beating heart basically dying from the inside out. I wanted you to know and be aware of the things that I had noticed and detected. But you refused to hear me out, I would try and try, I wouldn’t stop pushing until I could get it through your head that I was hurting so badly.. But you didn’t seem to care. You, you were my person; someone I should’ve been able to confide in, express my feelings and be open, honest. We were supposed to be a team but that faded away very quickly. 

Like I said, I have regrets during the relationship. I know I wasn’t perfect and there could always be room for improvement. Although to this day I really do believe we were soulmates, we were just two very different people. You lacked sympathy, empathy and all around a cold person. I was the person who felt everything too much, felt your emotions, moms and my own. I was constantly stuck in a cage of everyone emotions and I just wanted to tell you that. 

I regret hiding when you were angry, I regret not figuring out ways to calm you down when you were upset. I regret not paying 100% attention to the things you were extremely passionate about. I never took the time to listen to you about the things you love. I regret constantly trying to fix you when you didn’t want to be fixed. I regret being as worried as I was. Your well being was a top priority to me.. I didn’t want you going down the same path I went down before getting clean. I regret forcing you to listen to me about my side of the story and refusing to hear your side because it upset me. During the time I believed your side to be idiotic and selfish. You were trying the best you could I like to think. I regret isolating myself in the bedroom I was so used to running and hiding that I didn’t think about how you were feeling in that moment. I regret not coming into the living room to wake you up and bring you into the bedroom so your back wouldn’t hurt the next day.  I know you have regrets too but, I will never know what they are. 

Everyone says people come into your life for a reason.. I like to believe you were in my life to teach me that becoming the best version of myself was the only way I could actually help someone who wants to be fixed. Turns out, the person I needed to fix, was me. I wasn’t the best for you however, I will be the best for the next. 

There is still underlying pain, anger, sadness on the way you went about it though. I was nothing but loyal and honest to you. I was devoted to you because I loved you. Instead of telling me you simply didn’t love me anymore you decided to create a separate life, one that was without me. Falling in love with another woman behind my back even though I felt the knife pierce near my spine. To this day you still do not know that. 

As I sit here in my apartment seeing this beautiful life I created for myself by growing through the hurt, pain and anger that took half a year to find myself in a different light staying single, because the pain is still here. Every single day is progress for me. I am learning something new about myself every day. I get to learn about myself, without you.. The pain I had to bare was too intense so I decided to do something about it. I refuse to feel the way I felt that night you told me you two were dating. 

You had claimed to be dating her two weeks after our separation. I knew about the affair for much longer than two weeks after the breakup. That night that you said the words in my passenger seat “yes we are dating” I told myself that I reuse to ever feel like that for someone again. Because although you were one mentally abusive man, you were literally everything to me. To hear those words come out of your mouth was like taking the knife out of my back and placing it directly into my heart. I cried for weeks after that. You will never know the pain I had felt so deeply because you had someone “waiting” for you. 

I should be thanking you to be quite honest. Because of you I can walk differently, talk differently, feel beautiful inside and out, I finally get to smile and I actually mean it. I haven’t been this social-able in years. I glow differently, I can laugh and not be drowned by the tears I had shed in the past for you. Thank you for giving me the agonizing pain and torture of this heart break. Because now, the only person I’m good enough for at the end of the day.. Is me.