#it also triggered bad memories and trauma

[the-morningstar-family]

Considering your... unique situation it might make sense to start a list with names that are an absolute no-go?

Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, probably also no Sara, Adam, any variation of the name Lilly might be confusing and the name of Alastor's "father is also out.

If you don't like Jacob that's probably also a no for Josef, Mary and David.

There are damn many names with heavy bible associations and that's not touching the popes.

So yeah. No Go list might be necessary.

And also, remember to ask Willa what names are burned in their family, you don't want to accidentally trigger any unknown trauma for Felix.

Aaaand it might be worth to check the Goetias names? Probably going to suck for your poor babies if they have one of their more annoying members as a namesake.

Damn, naming royal babies is hard. How did you settle on Charlotte?

Alastor: "Well, the process of elimination works too, just takes longer..."

Lucifer: "A list isn't a bad idea though. It does eliminate quite a few names. Like they said"

Alastor: "How many names can we cross off with the ars goetia?"

Lucifer: "Uhh, wait I have a list!"

The king rummages through some letters, until he holds a slightly glowing scroll. The demon reads it in consideration.

Alastor: "That are 72 names out of the running"

Lucifer: "74, Stolas' wife and their daughter aren't on the list."

Alastor: "And what are their names?"

Lucifer: "Uhhhhh...."

Alastor: "How do you not know this?"

Lucifer, embarrassed: "I haven't been too involved recently..."

Alastor: "Then we should figure that out"

Lucifer: "On it!"

While he types away in his phone- because didn't Ozzie say something about Stolas one time?- Alastor thinks about the other suggestions.

Alastor: "There isn't much to consider on Willa's and Felix' side of the family. Only "April", it was her mother's name. But April didn't have any family besides her daughter. Much like Willa and Felix now."

Lucifer: "Stella and Octavia!"

Alastor, confused: "Mh?"

Lucifer: "The missing names- Apparently Stolas and Stella are divorced now? And uh- their daughter is named Octavia"

Alastor: "Hm. This gives us at least a good idea on what not to choose."

The radio demon starts to copy the goetia names. Then some variations of their own names, the archangel's, his father's name (with a good bit of force), names they already disagreed upon, April, biblical names and variations of Lilly, like suggested. Then, with a smirk, he adds Fluffy.

Lucifer: "Fuck you. I was running out of ideas"

Alastor: "The name speaks for itself, darling. No need to clarify."

He only gets a middle finger in response. Which makes the demon giggle. After he sobered up, he does consider the last question.

Alastor: "How did you agree upon 'Charlotte'? It's a good question"

Lucifer: "Oh hell, we never settled on a name. We fought about it all the time, actually. Until she was born. Somehow we just thought Charlotte, and Charlie, suited her. Aw, just looking at that cute widdle face"

Alastor softens as the angel recounts the memory. Suddenly feeling slightly more confident about finding suiting names.

Alastor: "Perhaps that is not a bad idea"

Lucifer : "Mh? What is?"

Alastor: "We simply wait for them to make their appearance. And along the way we can add names to the name list we dislike."

Lucifer: "... And if we can't find the right ones in time?"

Alastor: "I am sure we can find something we can settle on"

Lucifer: "Well okay - let's do that"

Alastor, smirking: "We can be more creative than doctor Chaim at the very least. Although, Babies A, B and C does have a theme to it."

Lucifer, laughing: "Behold hell! The alphabet!"

A bit of nauseating feeling settles in Alastor's stomach, but not enough to make him go to the toilet. The demon mumbles under his breath.

Alastor: "We are simply joking, darlings"

[thattheater-kid]

The worst thing is when you get in a bad situation and you hate it, but you can’t even blame anyone else. It’s all your own fault. You have no one to blame but yourself. This was your own idea, your own choice, your own decision. You’re stuck in this bad, vaguely traumatizing situation, and it’s entirely your own fault.

[annamaryllis]

I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

[xxlethal-lunaxx]

If anyone relates to this even just a little bit, then I'm so sorry.

[another-clive-blog]

Short extract of that one WIP I've been working on !

TW are mention of death/dead bodies, mention of blood and uh I genuinely don't have the word but like. Disturbing way of thinking

It's 1 am and I have a big test tomorrow so I'm just going to post the cancel fic tonight and hopefully I'll be back to my usual posts tomorrow ! Anon if you recognize your ask expect the full thing in like two days unless I triggered myself too much lol

[thethingything]

spent half the day going "hmm I suddenly feel homesick and really dysphoric and like I really need to talk to someone about source stuff again. I wonder why that's suddenly come back..."

and then I got hit with a bunch of source memories that are basically just the same ones I usually have issues with but this time with some new emotions attached that I recognise as being from recent trauma, so I guess our brain's back to its usual bullshit of immediately repressing stuff then just masking it all with my source memories, which doesn't actually make us function any better; if anything our brain has attached so much shit to the same few source memories that it just means if one thing gets triggered I'll probably also have to deal with a bunch of unrelated stuff that our brain masked with the same memories.

I'm not really surprised by our brain doing this because it's done it so much at this point, but like, for something that's meant to be a coping mechanism, it sure is giving me a lot more stuff to cope with

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

weirdest fucking shit to fixate over but we just keep comin back to it huh

tmi in the tags probably

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.3k

abstract -> healing takes time...

y/n’s perspective

“His memories are still all over the place, it could be a trauma response that his brain has blocked him out from,” Doyoung said and I knew at this point this was true. 

“We’ll have checkups every few months but amnesia isn’t always a happy ending,” he said and I nodded as I was led out to the waiting room.

“You really tied your own hands up when you adopted troublesome hybrids' ' I heard and I turned around to see Chenle. I smiled… “I don’t regret getting them, I love them a lot. They also make me happy. '' I said and he chuckled. “I guess that's all that matters' ' he said and I nodded. 

“I remember how upset you were… with the whole break up,” he said and I sighed. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore… it's almost been a year anyway” I said and he chuckled. “You’ve been busy even after starting a book after so long. I heard he got a hybrid, too though? Something about his family taking in the mother of his family’s hybrid?” he said. He didn’t even like hybrids…

“Here she is” I heard and I saw Jaemin with San. “Take care of yourself,” Chenle said and I nodded as I took San. “How was it?” I asked and he looped his arm with mine as we walked down the street. 

“Find… all the memories I don't remember… is it better if I stop wanting to remember them?” he asked while looking down. 

“Why don’t we find somewhere to eat huh?”

san’s perspective

She took me to a cafe I think I heard Wooyoung talk about. It seemed familiar. She ordered us some food and he stared at me for a while before she decided to speak. 

“You know… you always wanted to come here?” she asked and I was shocked. “Really? Why… did I never come?” I asked and she gave me that sad smile she’s been giving me recently. “Look at the door,” she said and I did… What was so special? 

“It has a bell,” she said and I looked at her confused. “You used to not be able to stand the sound of bells… it caused a negative trigger” she explained. “I know you said I was in a hybrid ring where they made hybrids kill each other… Was I a bad guy?” I asked worriedly and she smiled. 

“No… you’re the sweetest hybrid I could ask for '' she said and I was relieved that she said so but something that didn’t stop haunting me suddenly resurfaced. “Then why did I hurt you?” I asked and she sighed.

“Because you hate humans and what they did to you. You thought I'd be the same” she explained, but I shook my head. “I feel comfortable with you though… I love being around you, why would I ever…” I trailed off feeling my vision start to blur. 

“Here’s your food” I heard as the waiter put our food in front of us. An iced tea and chocolate pancakes… “You really liked chocolate I found out… but if you don’t like it I'll–” “Thank you… you seem to know so much about me” I said and she smiled. 

“I like to think I do,” she said with a soft smile and I nodded. “I’m just sad… I don’t remember much about you. I just know how I feel” I confessed and she nodded. “Well, who says you can’t ask me again?” she asked and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re so patient… thank you,” I said and she nodded. “Always”

I know all of the hybrids back home hate humans. Wooyoung was abandoned and called annoying or anything similar all his life besides when with her. He’s known her the longest and we’ve been friends since we met. Yeosang absolutely hates the higher class… but is insanely involved with her. I know the tigers were abused all their lives to perform dangerous stunts. 

Not all humans were the same… she was really kind. I know I could trust her with anything and have never felt unsafe since returning with her. 

I also know I made her my mate… I was her first hybrid. I belonged by her side. 

As we made it to the apartment I decided to ask… 

“So should I just stop trying to remember everything?” I asked and she sighed. “One time you told me… you wish to forget everything that used to make you sad or angry. So… it’s your choice and whatever choice you choose I'll still be here” she said and I nodded. 

“y/nie! Sannie!” I heard Wooyoung as he talked to me in a hug. “Everything is okay Wooyoung. I brought some food” she said. She mentioned that if she was getting food for me she’d have to get it for everyone… She truly cared for everyone. 

I know I hurt her… but that didn’t make her scared of me. I’ve seen how her friends look at me and the orange tigers… but she always seems to reassure me. 

While Wooyoung called for everyone, I decided to pull aside the tiger… “Can we talk?” I asked and his eyes shook but nodded. He avoided me more than everyone else. Even the white tiger made an effort to befriend me.

“Are you alright?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t remember much but I feel annoyed by you…” I said and he nodded, not surprised. “Can… we get along?” I asked and his eyes widened with his tail suddenly twitching, catching him by surprise.

“Why all of a sudden?” he asked and I sighed. “She… she seemed to forgive me for hurting her and I know she also forgave you. I wanted to try following her example” I said and he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I did–” “Was just as bad as me apparently… I don’t remember much but I do remember hurting her. We both were wrong about her huh?” I asked and he nodded. 

“I will never forgive myself for what I did,” he said and I chuckled. “Neither will I,” I confessed. 

“Can you make me a promise?” I asked and he nodded eagerly. “I know you try your best to protect so please… When I'm not by her side and I'm often not, I don't like leaving the apartment. Please continue to protect her” I asked and he smiled.

“You didn’t have to ask that,” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, hyung!”

y/n’s perspective 

The panther was more cuddly than usual. He was already asleep, hugging me in his sleep when I heard a knock. 

“Come in,” I said and I saw Hongjoong. “Need anything?” I asked and he laughed. “I don’t think you can offer anything while trapped by San,” he said and I noticed slowly he started calling everyone by their name. Not panther… nor doberman… nor fox. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung he’s been calling them.

“He seems to be getting better,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. “I’m glad he is… he’s more energetic too,” I said and he chuckled.

“He forgave me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen and even a smile grow on my face. “I know… he’s okay,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “You and Seonghwa are getting along with everyone… I’m glad” I said and he nodded. 

“Thank you… truly for adopting s even though I’m trouble” he said and I offered a smile. “I’m glad… I enjoy the chaos” I said and he smiled. His tail swished back and forth happily. 

“I did have a request though,” he said. “Anything,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Well… now that Wooyoung is in the process of moving into San’s room… could I possibly get my own room?”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[keferon]

Okay- I adore the Mecha AU.. so now I have to share MY terrible idea, dunno if anyone has said this yet but- you remember that in pacific rim when Raleigh & Mako DRIFT and they both experience each other’s trauma?

What if that happened with Jazz & Prowl?

Like-

One day Prowl starts noticing a difference in Jazz's behavior, noticing how he would suddenly tense up or flinch whenever somebody suddenly started speaking loud or in the morning he’d notice how he was soaked in sweat and shakily making his way to the wash racks. Whenever he’d ask if he was alright he was always met with a smile and a reassuring remark, yet he knew something was off and he wanted to help.

So then (once he’s fully healed) he suggests to Jazz that they should do trust exercises under the guise that since he doesn’t have another Mecha so they should strengthen their own bond for any future battles. Jazz is hesitant, especially since he blames himself for Prowl being in that situation in the first place, but he also wants to spend time with Prowl so he agrees.

Prowl probably would go to a secluded spot in the forest they’re in, somewhere safe where, once Jazz is relaxed enough he can ask him about these strange behaviors he’s recently been exhibiting. Surely nothing bad will happen and surely Jazz will be fine like he usually is…

The training exercises go well, Jazz is feeling fine and they’re both in the zone when suddenly a bad memory spontaneously starts to haunt Jazz and it triggers a PTSD-esque Episode where Jazz freezes up and is suddenly taken back to that horrible time..

The time he was strapped down to a bedbunk, his body writhing in agonizing pain, the constant sting of needles piercing his skin followed by an intense burning sensation that can only be likened to being burned from the inside out, his vision going blurry and his throat raw and bleeding from screaming and crying, his body shaking and shivering as a thick sheen of sweat coats his body.

And right now… because of the DRIFT.. Prowl sees it too, he not only sees it but he’s there, standing over Jazz's restrained body, he hears screams and sounds he never EVER wanted to hear, not from Jazz of all people. His precious partner, he’s looking down at him unable to help or protect him from these strangers, these monsters who are ignoring the ear piercing, spark-wrenching screams of pure agony. Worst of all? He can’t move, he’s frozen in place, forced to stand there helplessly as Jazz is begging for mercy, begging for someone to help him… and. he. can’t. move.

It lasts just for a moment but for both of them it felt like an hour until Jazz screams himself back into reality, freeing both him and Prowl from his nightmare. Prowl drops to a knee, his mind racing as he tries to figure out what the actual hekk he just saw until he feels Jazz pounding his fist against his chest, he can vaguely make out his choked up plea which scares Prowl as he’s never heard Jazz make that noise before. Prowl opens it and barely manages to catch Jazz as the man tumbled out into his own shaky servo in a trembling heap.

Jazz is slightly pale and tears are in his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath, he knows he’s not there anymore but he still feels it.

Prowl rushes back to Ratchets hideout where he the others are and calls for him, fear gripping his tanks as Jazz is still huddled in a fetal position, hyperventilating as he grips his soaked hair. Ratchet immediately recognizes what’s happened and quickly moves to help Jazz calm down before he has a heart attack which he is very close to having with how high his pulse is. It works but the man is so worn out from the stress that he just passes out.

I don’t know but that’s been plaguing my mind since I started reading your AU and I just HAD to share it lol, what do you think? How do you think Prowl would actually react to that? I figured he’d freak out as humans and their fragile bodies are still new territory for him.

Also sorry if it’s all a bit unclear or confusing or like- boarderline rambling I’m not good at storytelling and just stick to RP and making RP plots lol.

OH MAN. OH FUCK. YEP UH HUH YEAH. THIS. oh my god

Knowing Prowl, he would probably rush to learn every bit of information he can access about. You know. How to help someone in that scenario. Because he’s scared that something would went wrong while he has zero knowledge about humans.

But also. I think it would make him realise just how strong despite his small size Jazz actually is.

Jazz might drop something about his brain being over dramatic when it’s not helpful at all. While Prowl is just are you fraggin serious you’re a superhuman

[zeros-sys]

ive seen people make a lot of generalisations, so I wanted to say this about system stuff :

· alters who are under 18 in adult bodies aren't literal children and a lot don't have the same maturity or act like children, they don't need to be hidden just because of their age

(^ also note that agesliders, ageless, and alters with unknown ages exist. some hosts could be under 18 as well)

· listing front triggers isn't necessarily harmful unless they are negative or you have alters who shouldnt front

(^ we are an osdd-1b system so we have no memory amnesia, we remember all switches. there's also no alter in our system who is dangerous or whatever, so triggering any of us to front is fine)

· not everyone is vulnerable to being taken advantage of. I hear people say "bad people will target you for this!!" a lot, but some people just literally don't care enough to get manipulated by someone online

(^ I'm definitely not saying you shouldn't stay safe, but as a protector with like no empathy who is pretty apathetic, it just annoys me that people assume everyone can get manipulated online when I just don't care about people)

· in a similar vain, people saying "don't list your trauma holders." I know that many trauma holders are vulnerable or triggered easily, but again, not all are.

(^ our main trauma holder also has no empathy and is mostly apathetic. he does not care and is not vulnerable to anything people online could do)

Now, I am well aware that not all systems are the same and that some of these things are necessary for some systems, but just do what's best for you and your system

[toomiieimagiines]

hihihi

uhm so am i allowed to request again (i don’t wanna spam) 😭😭🙏

and if i am can u pls do a rui x hopeless romantic best friend reader (i’m totally normal about best friends to lovers lmfao)

so like the reader is always yapping about hot guys and it’s a little angsty at first because rui is thinking to himself ‘why did i have to fall inlove with someone that won’t ever choose me’ and then one day a hot guy comes up to reader and asks her out, reader is about to say yes but then she realises that she barely knew him and there was someone (rui) who had been by her side since day one and she figures out who she really loves (RUIII) so she rejects him and when rui asks why she just hugs him and says ‘because your the one i really want’ mwah mwah i feel like such a genius (i really hope this made sense lmao be prepared for a million bestie-> lovers and angst-> fluff rui requests 😼)

thank youyoyoyoyoyuuu!!

hi guys! i’m so so incredibly sorry for how inactive i have been! unfortunately, the fanfic writer curse caught up to me, and i’ve had considerably bad things happen to me! ToT

i had developed a really bad addiction after a recent episode - which may be why i’ve loved to write my characters so miserable, but they get a happy ending in the end - and have recently relapsed after a couple months. i’ve also been struggling with a lot of things, like being bullied again, pressure from theater, classes, autism, parental issues, memory of past trauma, having no friends, things like that. i’ve just been having a really hard time, so writing has been super difficult for me. i’m currently having some of the worst mental health in my life, and am un-recovering from other things i’ve had in the past too, after seeing the results of my recovery. sorry if this triggered anybody, i just needed to get this off my chest, and felt also that i should explain where i have been. you all supporting me has kept me going, and i hope you enjoy this one too! LETS END THE PITY PARTY!!!

in other - not so depressing news - here you guys go!! sorry for OOCness, obviously this is a more dramatic approach to a story! happy ending, j tried to write the inner narration differently for how you two were feeling at the time.. and ty once again for such a great idea, mama ^3^

“I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me.”

If he has to sit here and listen to this one more time, he thinks he’ll go insane.

Rui Kamishiro loves you. He truly does. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, his-

Never mind.

Rui loves you, but he absolutely HATES your taste in guys, and it’s driving him nuts. Nodding and agreeing can only get him so far before he wants to rip his own hair out, and tonight is no exception.

“I give up! All boys are dumb, I don’t need them!” You lament, resting your chin in your hands. It’s the same song and dance over and over. You swear off boys, you get attention, you get sucked in, and he has to pick up the pieces when it inevitably fails. How many times has he thought about how much better he would treat you now? He doesn’t know. He’d be a classical lover, he’d never speak to you the way those stupid unprincipled high school boys do.

Gross. That’s his best friend, why’d he think that? And when did he start being so self confident? He really outta look at himself in the mirror. What an egomaniac he’s turning out to be.

He shakes his head.

“You do know I’m still a boy, right?” He prods, trying to cheer you up. He knows this situation well, and he knows exactly how to make you feel better. Again he’d pull you out of this, and again he’d watch you fall in love.

He wishes you could be happy. He wishes you weren’t in love with being in love. You’re too pure for true love, love is disgusting, depraved, and unkind. You’re not anything like that.

“I know, I know, but you’re the only good one!” You point, words self-assured. “I don’t need a boyfriend, you do everything boyfriendy for me anyway!”

Ouch. Thanks a lot, that’s exactly what he needed to hear right now. He’s not gonna dwell on that last bit for now, he’ll wait until he’s home. Then he can- he doesn’t know. Cry, or something juvenile like that.

“So I’m back-up-boyfriend?” He masks himself in jest, smiling teasingly at you.

“Eh, maybe,” you snicker, “you’d definitely be cute if you weren’t my friend.”

He turns to his school work sharply, trying to mask his complete and utter despair. Ugh, why does he have to be so dramatic? His own personality makes his skin crawl with disgust and hatred, and that only makes him cringe more. He could think about how obnoxious he is all day. Maybe he should use that go home and cry pass early. He pretends to check the time, as if that isn’t all he’s been doing.

“It’s getting late, after this problem I should get going.” He mutters, scribbling some random numbers into his notebook. You yawn in response, being broken out of absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

“Ugh, I wish you didn’t have to go!” You drape an arm over his torso, trying to hold him in. He smiles fondly, wrestling to get you off of him.

“I’d have to walk home in the dark then, do you want that?” He knows you’d never let him, and he sees it immediately.

Your face looks knowing, and you let him go right away. It amuses him at first, but quickly fills him with overwhelming pity. You’re so kindhearted it makes him sick. You shouldn’t worry about someone like him, it’s bad for your health.

“Would you like me to walk home with you?!” You shoot up, the idea of him not being safe running through your head. Maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. How emasculating! He’s not a helpless young girl! He’s just as manly as those boys who you long for, he’s not a puppy to be walked!

God, is jealously turning him into a bigot? He shakes his head once again, this time not just to clear his thoughts. He’s absolutely not letting you walk him home, it’d be mortifying. He takes your attention belly up, you should have a break. Maybe some time to yourself for a change? God, Rui, get a grip.

“I’m fine, I don’t want you out late by yourself either,” he assures, looking at you in haste.

“Ah. You have a point.”

“I always do.” He means more to that, and he wishes he could tell you. He wants you to see that even he knows what he’s talking about. He needs you to see him, just for once. Not as a best friend, or backup boyfriend, just as a regular one. As a lover who dances in the rain, or ties your shoes

He needs to stop. He shouldn’t think about you like that. It’s lecherous.

You two exchange goodbyes, giving him a long hug (much to his horror). He hates how feverish it is it hold you like this, it makes him feel guilty. His body gets hot, his cheeks flare up, his throat feels tight- it makes him feel like a pervert, even if his thoughts are the farthest thing from lewd.

He feels that everything he thinks about you is repulsive, though.

“Be safe”’s and “See you later”’s are passed between you two, and he walks down your front steps, now completely alone. His eyes scan the damp pavement, seeing the golden hues from the sky light the boring rock. That’s how he feels about you, he decides. You’re the sun, and he’s the pavement. He humors himself by thinking that your suitors are the clouds, stopping you from shining your light for him so he can grow weeds in the cracks of his soul. That’s what these feelings are. Weeds.

He wants to live life beautifully with you, he decides. He wants to tie your shoes, he wants to twirl you as you dance.

He wishes he could be the moon. Something of consequence- of importance, but he’s just the pavement. Not the earth, not the stars, not the clouds, or rain, he’s just a man made monster who destroys nature - you - and is walked over by people who do matter.

He should quit being this way, he grumbles, it doesn’t do anybody any good to be so flowery. He’s too girly- too weak. Maybe that’s why you don’t like him. If you’re willing to date anything that moves other than him, that must mean he’s on a completely new level, huh?

That’s what dreaming gets you, Rui. Crushed dreams and embarrassment.

He lets out a pitiful sigh, kicking a pebble with his shoe. He sees a worm in a lawn which reminds him of himself, he sees a couple shopping for a new game which reminds him of you, he sees a convenience store which reminds him that he’s hungry-

His life can be so mundane sometimes, what a drag.

He’s about to reach his front door, when he steps into a puddle. It feels like an appropriate representation of his life right now. A sense of disgraceful hilarity washes over him, and he begins to laugh. He laughs a while, he laughs as he takes his shoes off, he laughs as he peels his button up down, and he laughs as he lays in his bed. How dramatic he could be some times!

He falls asleep quickly. He has a dream about being on stage and forgetting his lines.

He wakes up with a thud, he fell out of bed. How embarrassing. He decides to check his phone.

Weirdo: RUII

Weirdo: wanna hang w me 2day?? u don’t have dance time right??

Weirdo: gonna kill you. WAKE UP

Me: I’m awake, sorry!

Weirdo: finally sleeping beauty

Weirdo: wanna get a snack? i’m simply starved…

Me: When?

Weirdo: an hr maybe…

Me: Okay :) I’ll tell you when I leave.

Weirdo: kay!!

He really doesn’t feel like being social today, but he’d never pass up an opportunity to see you. He’s an obscene degenerate when it comes to you, pouncing on your attention like a sick dog. It’s mortifyingly pathetic.

He gets dressed, throwing on a boring striped sweater. It’s getting colder outside recently, and he’s always ran cold anyway. His hands are shaky and nervous as he brushes his teeth, the anxiousness to see you making his body jittery. He considers breakfast, but quickly shuts the idea down. He doesn’t want to be stressed out - at least more than he already is - when he sees you. Twitchy hands lock his door, and he gets a few feet away before he double checks that he did, in fact, lock it. Pull yourself together, Rui! He screams at himself.

The walk is just as unexciting as he expected, albeit a bit chilly. He’s feeling thankful for the sweater. The breeze runs its hands through his hair, and he’s reminded that winter is coming. He always liked Autumn flowers the best, hibiscus flowers are pretty too, he supposes. It’s nice to have the warmth of the sun soothing his cold hands during summer, for sure.

He trips over a rock on the way, and his pants get wet on the knees. Khaki blends into an ugly brown, and he sighs. How unlucky, would anything go right for him today?

Turns out it will, you look really good today.

You great him at the door, practically buzzing with eagerness. It makes him smile, knowing that you do, in fact, want to see him. Or at least are acting like it. You’re a good friend to him, he’s lucky to have you.

“Rui!” You hug him as a greeting, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His heart soothes, eyes closing in relaxation. Problems feel obscure and distant when you two are like this, despite his reluctance last night. He can forget about corrupt feelings - or misguided love- and he can just be your best friend. Despite his apprehension to be cared for, he is flattered that you, at least, seem to like him.

“Hey.” He breaths you in, his voice soft. He hopes you don’t notice, it’s embarrassing.

“Hey!” You reply, pulling away. “Big things planned, Rui!”

“What big things?” He asks, amused. “Big things” for you were junk food and shopping.

“Big things! It’s a surprise!” You put your shoes on, and he can’t help but feel jealous as he watches your hands tie them dutifully. He sighs, stretching. He decides to make it a challenge to act normal the whole day. No weird thoughts are going to beguile his mind, he promises himself.

You lock your front door, twisting the knob to make sure that it did, in fact, lock. This fills him with a child-like sense of delight, maybe you two really were similar.

Nah, not possible. You’re too pure - too perfect. Ugh, Rui, no more stupid thoughts.

He watches you check the time, make a face at a nearby bird, and cover your cheeks with your hands. You suddenly perk up, wrapping your arms around him.

“Warm me up, will ya?” You scowl at the cool air, grip tightening. He gulps. It’s weird he reacts like this, considering you two have done things like this all the time. It’s normal, so why does he have to be such a creep? His arms wrap around yours, running his hands up and down to create heat.

“Should’ve worn a jacket,” he chides, “wouldn’t be cold, y’know?” His voice is so casual, like everything is totally fine. It is fine. Fine, fine, fine.

“Gotta look good. I’m on the hunt, obviously,” you joke. It isn’t funny to him, but he lets out a laugh.

“You’re hopeless.”

You two stop at a convenience store first, and you all but sprint to the drinks. He had this ritual down to a science. You grab two different color slushies, and he grabs whatever odd snack catches your collective stomachs eye today. Today the two of you decide to split a cookie, and walk to the counter. The cashier gives you a smirk, and he averts his eyes.

“This it?” The boy cocks his head, and you get the memo. You immediately jump on the opportunity.

“Mhm!” You wink, resting your chin in your hands while leaning against the counter. In all honestly, he wasn’t even that cute. At least, that’s what Rui kept telling himself.

“Don’t worry about it, than. I got you guys,” he waves you off. Score! You think, but he adds. “If I can get your number.” Rui feels like falling into the floor, how awkward! You just scribble it onto a stray receipt, winking.

“Thank you! You’re the sweetest!!” You singsong, skipping along with Rui following suite. You immediately burst into laughter, throwing a fake punch at Rui. “What a weirdo! Like I’d call him over what, 1000 yen?! I don’t even know him, yuck!”

So you did have some sense, he feels like letting out a sigh of relief. You hold your hands out.

“Which one do you want? I got your favorite!!” You look so proud, and he wants to laugh. His “favorite” isn’t actually his favorite, but he’d never tell you that.

The lie started one day in middle school, when the two of you suddenly had a weird craving for slushies. When you picked them out, you had gotten a red one and a blue one, and asked him what he wanted. While he really didn’t like red, he knew you liked blue, so he said red. Now for the past four years, you’ve always ended up getting him a red one, thinking it was his favorite. He’ll deal with it for you. Seeing your blue tongue stick out with brain freeze is better than any sugary drink anyway.

“Red, duh.” He scoffs playfully, taking a sip of it. The taste doesn’t really bother him all that much anymore. It reminds him of you.

You always let him divide the snacks, thinking he gives himself the bigger half. He never does, but he eats slower so you think he did. You skip along, enjoying it.

“Y’know, this isn’t bad. Wish they had the brownie, though. That never does us wrong.” God, don’t make him think of the ‘crack brownies’ - as you two call them. Those are great, and he likes them, so you never miss an opportunity to shove them down his throat.

“Don’t complain. Remember the egg roll incident?” He points, laughing at the memory. You two steer clear of that section now, having gotten sick.

“Ugh, I haven’t thought about that in a while! I’m never eating an egg roll again after that day! Ugh,” you gag.

Moments of silly memories like this make him feel like he’s known you forever. He can’t even remember a moment where he hasn’t loved you.

“Where’re we going now, commander?” He salutes, following the trail of sunshine you left behind.

“Where ever the wind blows us, kind sir!” You salute back, pushing him along. Your constant checks of your phone don’t go unnoticed by him, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Who’re you texting? Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” He tries to sound casual, knocking his shoulder against yours playfully.

“‘M not a total idiot, I’ll have you know!” You huff, holding your phone to your chest. “It’s just somebody we went to school with a while back, ‘m seeing if I can pull the moves.”

“Do I know him?”

“Dunno, never saw you two talking, so maybe not. He was in my english class, remember, the only class we didn’t have together?”

“Ah.”

You two walk in silence, except for when he yanks you back from the collar so you don’t walk into oncoming traffic, which amuses you greatly. You two soon arrive at the small mall, and he tails you as you run with excitement. You two browse everything, constantly pointing out cute plushies, or interesting keychains.

“Rui, look! Look!” You shake him, pointing to the back of somebody’s head inconspicuously. “Wait don’t yet- Okay, now! He’s turning around! That’s the guy! What a coincidence we see him here, right? Do you recognize him?”

Ha. Yeah, he knows this guy. He definitely knows him. He’s the one who would trip him during passing periods, he’s the one who left flowers on his desk. They make eye contact, and it’s like all of his growth left his body. He’s just the same freak from middle school, he’s still thirteen.

He shudders at the guys smirk, sensing that he definitely knows that Rui knows him. He jogs over to the two of you, and Rui already knows what’s about to happen, due to the lopsided smile on your face.

Damnit, this is the first time he doesn’t think he can act like it’s okay.

“Oh wow, what a coincidence! Must be fate we run into each other like this, ehe…” You giggle awkwardly, a dumb expression gracing your face. It’s painful seeing you that way for anybody other than him, and he looks away awkwardly.

“Must be.” He answers, swaggering closer towards you. Rui thanks whatever God above because - despite his current situation - at least this asshole didn’t go to highschool with you guys.

He looks down at his shoes, and tries to shuffle away, knowing this jackass is about to say something. He’s quickly stopped.

“Who’s this, huh? Feel like a recognize him from somewhere…” He trails off, smirking through his nose as he turns his attention to him. “Have we met before?”

“This is Kamishiro Rui, he’s my friend! He went to middle school with us, remember?” You happily answer for him.

Ha, friend? What happened to back-up boyfriend? He’s a little hurt, to be honest.

He feels bitter, it’s unbecoming- God, he doesn���t care. He should feel bad for getting so angry over it, it’s not like you belong to him. He’s such a freak, getting attached to you like this.

He starts to pick at his fingers, then he plays with a loose string on his sweater. You two continue to chat like nothings wrong, and he keeps thinking. It’s something he’s gotten good at recently.

He stops feeling bad about himself for a second- a split second where he resents you, and wishes his pain upon you. Wants you to know what it’s like to be so disgustingly, guiltily, revoltingly obsessed with someone. In this split second, he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty about it, which is unlike him. He wishes you felt love like this, that you were as psychotic about it.

But this doesn’t last long, because he remembers that he loves you more than anything. He’s lucky to be your friend. You’re a great friend, you’re an amazing person, you’re the sun, the sun, the sun.

He’s the pavement, he has to remember.

“I’m- I’ll leave you to it, y’know? Fabric store.” He stutters, choking on his voice. You don’t even notice, waving him off.

You do, however, remember to press his shoulder, uttering an absentminded “Okay, Rui, bye,” and he remembers again how perfect you are for doing it subconsciously. He lets himself feel the touch, long after he’s walked away. He deserves it after the trouble he’s reliving.

When he makes it to the fabric store - which he really didn’t need anything from, Nene had gotten some the other day - he can’t help himself from wishing he could just go home. Malls were always overwhelming already, and now his saving grace has the attention of another man. He walks through aisles, but realizes that he now has to buy something.

‘Least he knows that social cue, he laughs bitterly, running his hands across his face in frustration. He’s so ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you were chatting up a storm. It was your first time talking in person since middle school, after all! You feel giddy for a while, but it cuts abruptly. You feel a strange sense of urgency, something’s missing.

Oh, your best friend.

But where had he gone? You’re sure he was just here. You smile apologetically at the cute boy, putting on your best performance.

“Oh, I better go get my friend now. I don’t like walking home when it’s late. Was nice seein’ you, let’s hang out soon, ‘kay?” You singsong, stepping closer. You want to give yourself a pat on the back, you’re so cute.

He rolls his eyes, and you’re hit with a wave of uneasiness. That noise he made sounds strangely dismissive, he’s not the kind of guy to be a jerk though, you must be hearing things-

“Leave ‘im. Between you and me, he was a total freak in middle school. Probably is now, too. Probably likes you or somethin’, total nutcase.” His voice sounds so casual, like it’s not the douchiest thing you’ve heard all day.

You let other men walk all over you, sure. You let them cheat on you, lie, whatever. But you’re not about to stand here and insult Rui. He’s the only untouched thing in your life - the only person who isn’t cruel. He’s so gangly and awkward, but in the best way. You could live a million times and not be able to deserve him, at least you think so. He’s so unusual, and that’s what you love most about him. Little things like not liking loud lights, or liking the red slushies the best, make your heart buzzy with familiarity. He’s the one constant in your life.

You’ve been awfully worried about him recently, though. His particularly (as you like to call it) has gone to the an extreme, and it’s been a battle getting him to eat real food. You’re not blind, you see the way he’s been spacing out, or tapping a little too much. You just thought he’d been overwhelmed. He worries you to death sometimes, but despite all of his own struggles, he always seems to not care about it, deciding to always be there for you instead. Ah, he’s just such an amazing guy - no, not guy, he’s not anything like those other boys you talk to. He’d never insult someone like that. He’s not just a guy, he’s like your person.

Yeah, he’s definitely your person.

Your heart sputters at the thought, and you feel something you’ve never really felt before - save for hugs between the two of you that lasted just a second too long, or words a little too romantic. The feeling makes your mind fuzzy, and your heart hurt terribly with something you could only place as homesickness.

Oh.

“I,” you begin, backing away. “Yeah, I’m sorry but I’ll really be going now-“

“What? C’mon I was just messing with you, even though having guy friend’s kinda weird.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll call you back,” you say dismissively.

You’re totally lying, you laugh, you’re not calling him back.

He didn’t seem to like that.

“Damn, can’t even joke around with you people. Whatever, weirdo, sorry I insulted your little boyfriend.” The change in tone amuses you.

Yeah, good riddance, pal.

You turn away, walking through the mall with pace. It takes a while, but you spot him watching a pet stores aquarium.

He’s a funny one.

You wave your hands, trying to get his attention. He swallows, knowing that it’s probably to ask him if it’s cool to walk home by himself. Emotions are stupid, and ironically, you both think that at the same time.

“Rui! Rui! Hey c’mon, let’s go home, yeah?” You smile, face feeling warm. It’s a different feeling from when you usually talk to him. He looks at you, a little shocked. He had assumed you were smiling wide because you set up a date, so he turns his head.

“Where is he, huh?” He looks away, back to the fish tank. You shift in place, was he mad at you? You’re a little irritated at the mention of the guy, though, and huff.

“Don’t worry about that. Seems like I only attract douchebags, so I decided to go.” You explain, poking his shoulder. “Hey,” you start, “let’s just walk home, I wanna talk to you about something.” The idea makes you feel dizzy, but you’ll have to illustrate your feelings one day.

You can leave out the “I think I’m in love with you” part, you think.

The two of you walk in an excruciating silence, staring down at the reflection of the setting sun in the puddles. His heart tightens, remembering his earlier comparison. Even now, you’re so perfect. Even if he’s frustrated with you - despite you turning down the guy in the end (he doesn’t know why, he wanted to ask) - even if he’s ready to scream, and cry, and ask you what it is he did for you to be so turned off by him, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly, divine person to ever grace his view. He wants to be where you see him, he wants to be in your orbit.

“You’re like the sun-“ He blurts out, immediately regretting it. He didn’t mean to say that, God, he’s so fucking stupid. He sees you stop walking, smiling that same stupid, dopey, lopsided smile that he’s always so jealous of-

Oh. It’s for him.

He chokes, stopping to meet you eye-to-eye. You look up at him too, laughing giddily.

“What does that mean?”

He sputters, stepping away. “N-no it’s nothing- It was stupid anyway so-“

“No, tell me!” You urge, laughing a little harder. “What if it was something bad, ‘nd you were making fun of me? That’s not nice, Rui!”

“I- Hey-“ His voice goes a touch higher, a defensive tone rising. “That’s not-“

“Then tell me.”

“It’s just,” he breaths, trying to word it in the least creepy way possible. How does convey the fact that he sees you as a divine presence, that he sees himself as a worthless creature compared to you, without sounding like he’s hopelessly possessed by love for you? “I just- you’re so amazing,” he starts, “I thought of this stupid thing the other day when I was walking home - you know how I am - and well, I just thought of you when the sun reflected off the pavement - since it rained, y’know? - and well, it just- Sorry, it was dumb-“ He rambles, covering his face in anguish.

Nobody’s ever put that much thought into you. Sure, you’ve received a few ‘You’re so gorgeous’’s, where you’ve had to wonder where they learnt such a “big word”, but never something as poetic as that. The usual Rui-ratic explanation endeared you to him even more. You look at him, the smile never leaving. He’s just… so Rui. His stupid striped sweater, his half up hair - that you’d begged him to grow out - his eyes, whatever. Everything about him you treasure, and little do you know he cherished you even that more intensely.

“I think you’re the moon, Rui. Or maybe the earth, since I take care of you, hah!” You snicker, stepping closer to him. He takes a step back in return, and you grab his hands to make him stay put. His heart throbs, and he almost goes crashing down.

“I.. I don’t-“

You yank his hands, making him look back up at you. “Hey, Rui, I,” you look at him assuringly, “I wanna say something, and you can’t laugh okay?”

He holds his breath, so do you.

Fuck it, just tell him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Rui.” You gaze at him, the words shooting out faster than you can second guess them.

“I don’t-“ He breaks away, his fists balling up. You messed up, you think, you really, really messed up. “I’m not- I’m not going to- You can’t just say that because you got rejected. I- It wouldn’t be nice to- You don’t love me-“

“Rui,” you beg, grabbing his arm again, “holding hands on the way to school, cuddling while doing homework, knowing everything about eachother, these aren’t-“ You breath, “I’ve wanted somebody to love me for so long, Rui, and I was so blind to the fact that I was loved. But the love that I felt for you, - that I feel for you - Rui, isn’t the kind where I can be- where I can just be so- so normal about those things!” You monologue, saying whatever’s on your mind. You’re the rambling one now.

“I found myself comparing you to these piece-of-garbage dude’s I’m always with, wishing I could just date somebody like you instead! But now I realize that it is you-“

His heart falls into his gut, and he breaks free from you again. His hands move to his face, covering his eyes. His voice is broken and cracky as he begins to cry. “That was- you-“ He pulls you into a desperate embrace, arms holding you like you’ll disappear. “You shouldn’t, you’re wrong.” He sobs, “I’m- the way I love you is- You don’t understand, the way I feel isn’t normal I- My love is disgusting, and horrible, and depraved-“ He shakes, you rub his back. “You are so perfect compared to me, I’d never be able to- I love you so much, more than friends are supposed to, more than anyone’s supposed to at our age-“

“Rui, hey Rui please don’t cry.” You beg, smoothing out the ridges in his sweater. “I don’t- I don’t agree with that, and I can scream that at you, but I’m sure you won’t believe me. You’re not disgusting for feeling emotions different, Rui that’s what I love about you.”

“Stop- stop saying my name like that. It’s too hard to-“

“Rui, I love you. You don’t need to accept it, but I love you. More than being in love, more than being loved-“

“I love you, too,” his voice cracks, “that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to ruin a friendship that’s all I have, if this is just- I’m scared I’d lose you in any way, and I can’t live in a world where you don’t see me. I won’t. It’s sounds horrible but-“ He stops as you pull away from the hug, and wipes his face hastily. You put your pinky out, and his stomach drops again.

“C’mon, just like when we were kids. Pinky promise that no matter what, we’ll always see each other. That way you don’t need to worry anymore, y’know? I never break my kissy pinky promises, ever.”

Just like when you two were little.

He locks his with yours, just like you taught him all those years ago. He remembers your shared handshake for theater, he remembers your shared handshake for testing, and he remembers the song you two had to duet for choir - when you have forced him into it for a year. He holds everything of you so dear to his heart, you endear everything about him to you as well.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I see you.”

“I see you, too.”

You two kiss your hands, then bring them down, still interlinked. You stare at him, and he stares back at you. In a moment of profound sincerity, you lean forward, and kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, and you unlock your hands half way through to hold his face, which he mirrors. His heart settles for the first time. You see him. He’s your moon, your earth, you’re his sun, his stars.

He’s suddenly alarmed by a quick pushing off of him, gasping out a “Rui!”

“I-“ he pants, wiping his mouth. “Hm?”

“we’re in the middle of a park!”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry Potter and PTSD

I think no one would argue Harry Potter isn't traumatized, but I actually wanted to go through PTSD symptoms and find evidence of them in book quotes. It's mostly as a fun, little exercise (the word fun is debatable here, it made me quite sad, actually) as I'm not a licensed therapist, and I have no qualifications to diagnose anyone with anything. But I wanted to take a look at some of how Harry's trauma manifests especially in the final 3 books as the signs of PTSD are most obvious and glaring after Voldemort's resurrection and get worse after Sirius' death.

(As the title and first paragraphs suggest, this post isn't a happy one, so beware. I will be discussing symptoms of trauma as shown in the HP books)

I will be using adult PTSD symptoms since:

Older children and teens usually show symptoms more like those seen in adults. They also may develop disruptive, disrespectful, or destructive behaviors. Older children and teens may feel guilt over not preventing injury or death, or have thoughts of revenge.

(Source)

All further quotes regarding PTSD and its symptoms and how they might show were taken from the same website linked above.

To be diagnosed with PTSD, an adult must have all of the following for at least 1 month: * At least one re-experiencing symptom * At least one avoidance symptom * At least two arousal and reactivity symptoms * At least two cognition and mood symptoms

So, let's get straight into it and go into the diagnosis categories:

Re-experiencing symptoms

* Flashbacks—reliving the traumatic event, including physical symptoms, such as a racing heart or sweating * Recurring memories or dreams related to the event * Distressing thoughts * Physical signs of stress Thoughts and feelings can trigger these symptoms, as can words, objects, or situations that are reminders of the event.

Harry definitely suffers from nightmares post-Voldemort's-resurrection, and memories coming back about it:

Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn’t it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed ... ? Don’t think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer. It was bad enough that he kept revisiting the graveyard in his nightmares, without dwelling on it in his waking moments too.

(OotP)

In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he escaped nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.

(OotP)

And it continues even months later, he's still dreaming about the graveyard:

He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. He knew perfectly well what his regular nightmare about a graveyard meant, he did not need Ron or Professor Trelawney or the stupid Dream Oracle to tell him that...

(OotP)

Distressing thoughts are par for the course for Harry, but I'll bring up some examples:

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent’s arms meant that nothing could hurt him.

(HBP)

He feels responsible for all of their deaths even though they are all adults who chose to be there and protect him. Harry still feels guilt and responsibility over them, even when it isn't his fault, and he shouldn't feel responsible for those who stood between him and Voldemort.

While Harry shows physical signs of stress (such as a racing heart or sweating), They are shown in actual moments of stress where any human would be stressed, so I don't count them here since they are not an immediate result of trauma.

Regardless, I'd say he does have relieving symptoms. Recurring dreams, thoughts, and a sense of guilt are all present.

Avoidance symptoms

* Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience * Avoiding thoughts or feelings related to the traumatic event Avoidance symptoms may cause people to change their routines. For example, some people may avoid driving or riding in a car after a serious car accident.

Harry doesn't actually have the luxury to really avoid anything (poor boy) but he does avoid talking about his dreams of the graveyard, as mentioned in the quote in the Re-experiencing section. He doesn't tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione about his nightmares. Neither does he want to talk about Cedric. He doesn't even want to think about the graveyard and Cedric as mentioned in one of the above quotes:

Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn’t it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed ... ? Don’t think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer.

(OotP)

Even though Cho keeps bringing Cedric up to process her own experience, Harry does not want to talk or think about him and what happened at the graveyard.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m — sorry,” she said thickly. “I suppose ... it’s just ... learning all this stuff... It just makes me ... wonder whether ... if he’d known it all ... he’d still be alive...” Harry’s heart sank right back past its usual spot and settled somewhere around his navel. He ought to have known. She wanted to talk about Cedric.

(OotP)

“I came in here with Cedric last year,” said Cho. In the second or so it took for him to take in what she had said, Harry’s insides had become glacial. He could not believe she wanted to talk about Cedric now, while kissing couples surrounded them and a cherub floated over their heads.

(OotP)

Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You- Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know — ” “If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith’s aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

(OotP)

And when he mentions some of it, he's emotionally overwhelmed and stumbling over his words. He didn't really process everything that happened in the graveyard and he doesn't know how to talk about it:

Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling so angry. “Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” he said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!” The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. He became aware that he was on his feet, though he couldn’t remember standing up. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa; Ron and Hermione’s smiles had vanished. “You don’t know what it’s like You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me — ”

(OotP)

He mentions how it isn't easy for him to talk about it when he does his interview for the Quibbler:

Harry had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed him for every little detail, and he had given her everything he could remember, knowing that this was his one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. He wondered how people would react to the story. He guessed that it would confirm a lot of people in the view that he was completely insane, not least because his story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters had given Harry a burning desire to do something, whether it worked or not...

(OotP)

So, I'd say Harry shows avoidance symptoms in abundance as well.

Arousal and reactivity symptoms

* Being easily startled * Feeling tense, on guard, or on edge * Having difficulty concentrating * Having difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep * Feeling irritable and having angry or aggressive outbursts * Engaging in risky, reckless, or destructive behavior Arousal symptoms are often constant. They can lead to feelings of stress and anger and may interfere with parts of daily life, such as sleeping, eating, or concentrating.

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" anyone?

But more seriously, Harry is extra vigilant and alert in the final 3 books especially. As mentioned in the above quote with Smith, Harry is more angry in the final 3 books:

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again.

(OotP)

His temper, which was always present, got worse after the graveyard. In book 4, Harry holds Ron back from hitting Draco when Draco throws his usual insults:

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy

(GoF)

In book 5, Harry punches Draco himself over similar insults because he's angrier and has less of a handle on his emotions and reactions. He is barely aware of what he's doing:

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach —

(OotP)

And in general, Harry is much more on guard:

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. One of the horrible painted kittens behind Umbridge had great round blue eyes just like Mad-Eye Moody’s magical one, and it had just occurred to Harry what Mad-Eye would say if he ever heard that Harry had drunk anything offered by a known enemy.

(OotP)

He startles easily and is ready for an attack at all moments:

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.

(OotP - after the dementor attack)

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus, and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another — 

(HBP)

“Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, after a while. “Here — let me show you — ” He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, “Protego!” His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

(HBP)

By HBP and OotP, Harry is always ready for an attack and he defends himself on instinct. It doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing, fight or flight instincts take over and he's acting. It's always there, under the surface, ready to spring.

After Sirius dies, we also see a change in what Harry keeps to himself and what he says out loud. All his sassiest quotes towards Snape come from after Sirius dies. Harry becomes more reckless with his words (and actions in general). The pain makes him care less about his own life and future:

“What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.

(OotP - after Sirius' death)

“Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.” The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.

(HBP - yes, this famous scene is because Harry is depressed)

This is Harry just speaking his mind with complete and utter disregard for the consequences of what comes out of his mouth. This is something we see with him only after Sirius died, as before that, he made an attempt to not anger his professors, even Snape. In the earlier books, Harry is all for de-escalating situations with Snape:

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?” Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

(PS)

“Let’s see,” he said, in his silkiest voice. “Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it’ll be a week’s worth of detentions.” Harry’s ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too — for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room.

(GoF)

Harry may be thinking of wanting to say/do something, but he doesn't, because he has some self-preservation. This self-preservation disappears as the books go along. Harry in the early books is much more concerned for his own well-being than in the later books, and I don't think it's due to bravery or childhood trauma, at least, that isn't all there is. I think it's a reaction to some of his more recent trauma as well. A combination of feeling responsible for everything and thinking it's fine he goes through pain and danger because that's what he should do. In HBP and DH, he repeatedly says how willing he is to endanger himself, but not others. It's why he breaks up with Ginny, it's why he initially doesn't want Ron and Hermione to come with him on the Horcrux hunt. He thinks his own life is worth less. That it isn't so bad if he dies.

So he shows 3 arousal and reactivity symptoms at least.

Cognition and mood symptoms

* Trouble remembering key features of the traumatic event * Negative thoughts about oneself or the world * Exaggerated feelings of blame directed toward oneself or others * Ongoing negative emotions, such as fear, anger, guilt, or shame * Loss of interest in previous activities * Feelings of social isolation * Difficulty feeling positive emotions, such as happiness or satisfaction Cognition and mood symptoms can begin or worsen after the traumatic event. They can lead people to feel detached from friends or family members.

I already mentioned Harry's guilt regarding people "who stood between him and Voldemort". And it's true for this section as well. And I mentioned above how Harry considers his own life as worth less than others, which leads him to be incredibly reckless.

Besides the above two points, Harry also shows clear signs of depressive states:

On the fourth night after Hedwig’s departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when his uncle entered his bedroom. Harry looked slowly around at him. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit and an expression of enormous smugness.

(OotP)

Harry mentions that after the graveyard in the summer between 4th and 5th year, he starts having what he calls "apathetic phases", in which he just feels too tired to even think, just staring blankly at the ceiling. Him calling it "phases" as in, plural, suggests this is a common occurrence at the Dursleys.

Even later in Deathly Hallows, we see this is something Harry still does. After Ron leaves Harry and Hermione are at their most depressed:

She [Hermione] threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry. Harry felt dazed. He stooped, picked up the Horcrux, and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off Ron’s bunk and threw them over Hermione. Then he climbed onto his own bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain.

(DH)

Hermione reacts to her emotions by crying and letting them out, she's processing her emotions in some capacity, as hard as it is. Harry, on the other hand, just gets tired. His mind goes blank and he just stares blankly at the ceiling. Another one of these "apathetic phases". Instead of feeling, he goes numb.

We also see in book 6 how he loses some of his interest in Quidditch. The one pastime that reliably brought him joy, wasn't as important to Harry post Sirius' death. Sure, he was still playing, still interested, but there was none of the joy described previously. He doesn't have the same passion and interest even though he's the captain:

Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. 

(HBP)

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ron sharply. “You couldn’t have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malfoy, you’re the Captain!”

(HBP)

Some of it is to follow Draco who Harry thinks is a Death Eater, sure, but Harry in 4th year would not have acted the same. He wouldn't have let it make him miss a game, he wouldn't have even considered it.

In Deathly Hallows we also see Harry struggling with happiness in many ways. Yes, the situation is bad, but he is so incredibly affected by it, and I do want to mention that:

But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

(DH)

This above quote makes me so sad whenever I read it, and I do want to mention it here. Like, Harry isn't actively suicidal, but he's in a lot of pain that he wants to stop. These negative thoughts are practically a constant in DH even when he isn't wearing the Horcrux.

A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast. ... He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in midair and fade; and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling. . . .

(DH)

Harry is the character with the most reliable Patronus, but even for him at some point, it's too much and he struggles with it. Struggles to bring up the happiness he needs for a Patronus. The happiness part is what he always struggled with most when it came to this spell, after all:

“No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is. ... Hang on. ...” He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory . . . one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus ...

(PoA)

So, I'd say he shows at least 4 cognitive and mood symptoms.

Conclusions

Someone get this boy a hug and therapy, I really don't have much more to say.

I started writing this post to see if I could find evidence of PTSD symptoms in the books, and I searched and found so many that it just made me sad. So, yes, Harry obviously deals with untreated PTSD he has no idea how to regulate in the final 3 books and I think his readiness to walk towards his own demise is influenced by it.

[fluff-lover]

Healing Touch | Chapter 5: Return Home

Chapter summary: You and Logan travel to Alberta in search for some answers as he slowly regains his memory.

Masterlist

This chapter contains a lot of Logan’s origin story, but it’s more based on the comic than the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

7K words… who am I?

It’s been a few busy weeks to say the least.

After you and Logan agreed on working on his trauma together, you started having small sessions at night where you would use your power on him. In each session you placed your hands on each side of his head while he laid down on the lab’s bed and started healing his amnesia. You worked slowly, not wanting to trigger any bad memory without warning. 

There was only so much you could do, and there was no guarantee any of it would work. Your powers only worked on a physical level, meaning you could heal parts of Logan’s brain that didn’t heal on their own, despite his enhanced healing. But Charles saw this as an opportunity to train and even expand your powers, hoping that in time you would be able to heal the emotional type of wounds, or be the one to caused them.

Fragments of Logan’s memories began to resurface, scattered and incomplete, like pieces of a puzzle he wasn’t sure how to assemble. He remembered his parents: his mother, Elizabeth, and the man he believed to be his father, John Howlett. He could recall the house he’d grown up in, the details hazy but still familiar. He even knew his name wasn’t really Logan. But that was where the trail ended.

What had happened to them? How had he discovered his mutation? The answers felt just out of reach, buried beneath layers of fog he couldn’t penetrate, no matter how hard you tried.

In search of more answers, you started planning your trip to his childhood home: Howlett Estate. You would take a flight to Lloydminster and then drive for two hours to Cold Lake. Originally you suggested taking a smaller plane from Lloydminster to Cold Lake’s regional airport, but took pity on Logan’s distaste for flying and decided to rent a car instead.

You knew this would be hard on Logan, facing his memories and old traumas wasn’t easy, so you wanted to make sure this was a pleasant trip.

Coincidently, the trip took place during Jean and Scott’s wedding, so Logan wouldn’t be in the mansion during that time. Hopefully this trip would also help you rebuild your trust in Logan. Despite reassuring him over and over again that you’d forgiven him already, your friendship changed and required a lot of care to go back to how it was before.

The day of the flight you had maps, flyers and all kinds of accessories for your trip, and you had a blast going from one place to the other in the airport, getting lots of snacks and things to pass the time. Logan was never too far behind, following you around and indulging on anything you wanted.

Despite his nervousness, Logan enjoyed seeing you so excited and bubbly, but most importantly, so relaxed around him. He worried your friendship was ruined when he first hurt you but you were slowly building the trust back up.

It was only after you landed at Lloydminster and got in the rental that the real fun started. 

“I booked the cutest, cosiest looking Bed & Breakfast I could find, it’s adorable.” You said as you entered the address to the GPS. Logan groaned from the driver’s seat.

“I’m regretting this already.” He joked. “You know what? I take that back, I regretted this the moment you gave me a plane ticket.”

You laughed. 

“Oh come on! It wasn’t so bad! I took your nausea away, didn’t I?” 

His frown deepened.

“I still don’t like flying. If men were meant to fly, we would be born with wings.”

“Good thing I’m not a man.” You joked. “Be glad I got us a car instead of another flight for this part. Just drive, old man.” You said before opening a bag of snacks.

“Old man? Fuck off.”

You giggled.

“Aren’t you like a thousand years?”

Logan scoffed.

“...No.” He said after an awkward silence. “Your math is off. Also, don’t eat in the car, you’ll leave crumbs all over.”

You giggled again, and despite his grumpiness, Logan smiled.

“Whatever you say, grandpa.”

“Fuck you!” He said, but there was no malice in his voice. You just looked at him and took another bite of your snack.

“I���m hungry!” You said as an excuse. “Do you want some?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I don’t like candy.” He said, throwing you a look.

“Who the hell doesn’t like candy?” You asked dramatically “I think I have some Sour Patch kids around here, you’ll like them.” You said as you looked through your back.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because… your face looks like you’re constantly sucking a lemon.” Logan turned his head to look at you in disbelief. “Hey! Eyes on the road!”

“What do you mean I look like I’m sucking a lemon?” He asked confused.

“You know…” You pursed your lips, frowned your brow and raised your shoulders, trying to give your best impression of Logan. “Like you’re sulking.”

“I don’t sulk.” He said.

“Right… And I don’t cry while watching The Notebook. Are we just telling lies now?”

“Just give me that.” He snatched the bag of sour candy from your hand. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Yes, but you love me anyway.” You smiled and Logan just shook his head in defeat before pouring some candy straight into his mouth.

The ride was filled with banter and jokes. Seeing Logan so relaxed and somewhat happy made your heart flutter. You had never seen him like this, and you hoped it would last.

Watching him drive with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a relaxed smile on his face also did things to you. He looked so handsome, you would try to steal glances every once in a while.

When you finally arrived at the B&B you squealed in delight and jumped out of the car. The building had a “cabin in the woods” feel to it, but much bigger in dimensions, and it was surrounded by a large garden.

“It’s perfect! Just like in the photos! Isn’t it lovely?”

“It looks like a flower shop threw up on it.”

“Ew.” Your face quickly dropped. “Just because of that, you’re carrying the suitcases while I check us in.” You said before stomping towards the door.

“I was carrying the suitcases anyway!” Logan grumbled.

He took the suitcases and quickly caught up with you as you made your way to the reception. There you were welcomed by a sweet looking old lady.

“Welcome! You must be the honeymooners, the Wyatts!” She greeted them.

You quickly shook your head, your belly filling with butterflies at the idea of the two of you looking like newlyweds.

“Oh no, we’re not together. I mean, we’re together, but not together-together… We’re not married!” You tried to explain awkwardly while Logan tried not to laugh. “We booked two bedrooms under the name Howlett.” You said, your face growing hot.

“Yeah, we book two rooms in case the first bed breaks.” Logan joked, making you open your eyes so widely he thought they would pop out of your head.

“Logan!” You hissed and slapped his chest. Logan simply smiled and winked at you. Any other time you would be giggling like crazy at the idea of Logan and you breaking a bed, but you weren’t alone. The lady looked back and forth between the two of you before handing you two keys.

“You have room 13 and 14, they’re down that hall, across from each other. Breakfast is served from 7 to 10 in the dining room.”

You took the keys and nodded your head.

“Thank you ma’am.” you said before walking away fast, your face warm.

Your room was beautiful. It was tastefully decorated, had flowers on pretty much every surface, and the bed looked very cozy. You jumped on the mattress while Logan put your suitcase down.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Mhmmm.” You were barely audible with your face squished against the covers. Logan chuckled.

You felt the bed dip and raised your head to see Logan sitting down on the foot of the bed. He looked like there was something he wanted to say, so you sat up on the bed to give him your full attention.

“So, um… Listen,” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say… I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did, and I wanted to say thank you.” 

You smiled shyly. Logan wasn’t a man of many words, so when he opened up like this you made sure to appreciate it and soak into the moment.

“Nothing to thank me for. Helping people is what I do, it’s what I love. Maybe I never realized there are other ways I can help other than using my powers.” You shrugged. “I guess I never had a friend that mattered to me as much as you do.” You said with a certain vulnerability in your voice. Of course you left out the part of you being completely, utterly in love with him.

The admission took Logan by surprise. How could you, a sweet, selfless, beautiful woman not be surrounded by people you loved and loved you back.

“Why?” He asked. You tilted your head and frowned.

“Why, what?”

“Why me?” He shook his head, confused. “Not only I didn’t do anything to earn your friendship, but I also hurt you. You could have so many friends, so many people, why did you stick with me?”

You stared at him for a moment in shock.

“What do you mean you didn’t do anything to earn my friendship? You’re the first friend I made at the mansion.”

“That’s it?” Logan scoffed.

“For starters.” You placed your hand on top of his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Logan, you earned my friendship with respect and support. Most friendships don’t start with great gestures, they start with kind words, spending time together, showing kindness. My first morning there I was nervous but you told me I would be okay. Words matter, Logan. And I knew I wanted you officially in my life the day you took me to the hospital to help. Remember?”

Logan looked down at your hands together and nodded.

“I remember thinking I had never seen anything like it. Not only you healed those kids, but the relief their parents must’ve felt…” He said softly. “And you never cared about people giving you credit…”

You chuckled. 

“It’s better that way.” You shrugged. “I also knew we would be friends when you started training me. You didn’t think I would be useless on the battlefield just because I don’t have fighting skills. I appreciated that, I appreciated you having faith in me.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“I couldn’t have you running around trying to save everyone but not knowing how to protect yourself.” He said teasingly.

“I would’ve been okay. I can heal, remember?”

“Just because you can heal doesn’t mean you should allow yourself to get hurt in the first place.” Logan whispered.

Those words touched you deeply. Without even thinking you leaned in and kissed his cheek. Logan blinked and looked anywhere but you, the tips of his ear turning red.

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me. Thank you.” You whispered.

Logan cleared his throat and got up, dropping your hand in the process.

“Right. Of course. Anyway, we have a big day tomorrow, right?” He rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs, looking awkward as hell. You nodded your head. 

“Meet me at 9 for breakfast and we’ll head to the Howlett Estate afterwards.” you said. 

“Aye Captain!” He picked his suitcase on his way to the door and turned to look at you. He looked like he wanted to say something again, but this time he just pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Good night, Logan.” you said after a moment. 

“Good night, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” he winked at you and walked out.

-

Logan was used to sleepless nights, but tonight felt different. His mind kept drifting to you, no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away. At one point, he got up, rummaging through his jacket until he found his lighter. The one you’d given him. He turned it over in his hand, his thumb brushing over the engraving, something he often did when he thought of you.

Yet you managed to get him flustered all over again. The little kiss on the cheek you gave him earlier was driving him mad. It had been so long since he felt anything like this, so kind and gentle, so intimate without being sexual, he didn’t know how to act about it.

There was no way he could keep denying it: he had feelings for you. Could you possibly feel the same way? Your last conversation was about your friendship, how come all the sudden friendship wasn’t enough? Where did all these feelings fit in?

Logan raked a hand through his hair, frustration tugging at him. You were everything he wasn’t: beautiful, sweet, kind. The kind of person who made the world a little brighter just by existing. Surely you didn’t feel the same way about him... right? You were kind to everyone; that was just who you were. It didn’t mean you liked him.

Still, he couldn’t ignore how deeply these feelings had crept up on him. They hadn’t come all at once but had grown slowly, quietly, in the peaceful moments you’d shared: the late-night talks, the easy silences that somehow said more than words ever could. He hadn’t even realized how much you’d come to mean to him, until tonight. Until that kiss.

This would explain why he felt so jealous of Alex Summers, why he was so traumatized by the sight of your blood on his hands. Only you could get him to board a plane willingly, so what else would he do for you?

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with frustration. Things were about to get a lot more complicated. There was no way he could tell you how he felt. You deserve the best: someone kind, someone who could give you everything you deserved. That wasn’t him. Not after everything he’d done. Especially not after that night…

The memory hit him like a punch to the gut. The night he attacked you. The guilt from that moment never left him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. You’d forgiven him, but he hadn’t forgiven himself. He didn’t deserve someone like you, not after that. Not ever.

Logan sat back on the edge of the bed, staring down at the lighter in his hand. His thoughts spiraled, a storm of self-loathing and regret. He convinced himself, as he always did, that he was destined to be alone. No good woman would ever settle for someone like him, let alone you.

-

The next morning arrived with an unexpected cold, so you threw on your warmest clothes and headed to the main hall for breakfast, excitement bubbling inside you at the idea of finding out more about Logan’s past. 

But the feeling wouldn’t last. When you got to the dining room you found Logan was already there, looking grumpier than usual. He had a deep frown on his face, and looked at his coffee cup as it had personally offended him.

“Hey, good morning.” You greeted him.

When he looked up at you, his face softened and his shoulders seemed to relax.

“Morning. Slept well?” He asked as you sat down across from him.

“Not really, I guess I was too excited about today to sleep. What about you?”

Logan mulled over it for a moment.

“Same.” He said simply.

“Are you okay?” You asked. “We don’t have to do it today if you’re not ready.” You reassured him. He quickly shook his head.

“No, there’s no point dragging this on any longer.” He ran a hand down his face. Your heart ached for him, he looked tired and angry.

“Logan…” You went to reach his hand, but he quickly pulled it away.

“You should go get some breakfast, we have a long day ahead.”

You got up and headed to the table where the food was served. If Logan wanted to be a grumpy cat, so be it.

He really did look like he was sucking a lemon.

The ride to the Estate was quiet, a big contrats from the ride the day before. There was no banter or jokes, just music playing softly on the radio.

When you finally reached the Estate, you let out a whistle. 

“Damn, Logan! I didn’t know you grew up filthy rich.” You joked. The main building, a manor that seemed frozen in time, stud tall and big at the top of a hill, surrounded by a vast land.

“Neither did I.” He said with a somber tone. Being back here after so long made Logan feel uneasy, like he was entering a sacred place that was prohibited to him, while at the same time walking into a dangerous place. Either way, he didn’t want to be there. You could tell this wasn’t easy for him and you wanted to make him feel at ease, but you could only help him as much as he would allow it. And right now he was being too stubborn for that.

When he parked the car you both got out, but as Logan headed to the door he noticed you weren’t following. Instead you stood by the car, arms crossed on your chest and a pout on your face.

“You coming or what?” He asked annoyed.

“No.” You stomped your foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. “Not until you tell me why you’re being such an ass this morning.” You pressed.

Logan glared at you.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on.” 

You shook your head.

“Nope. Something happened and I wanna know what.”

Logan groaned.

“Coming here was your idea, so come on, let’s get moving.”

But you didn’t budge, shaking your head.

“You’re doing it again!” You said.

“Doing what?” Logan asked confused.

“Pushing me away.” You replied, your voice shaking. It made Logan stop in his tracks. He had sworn he wouldn’t push you away again. With a defeated sigh he ran a hand down his face and walked back towards you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to. I guess I’m really stressed right now, not knowing what we may find there.” He said pointing at the building with his thumb over his shoulder. “I barely got any sleep but I don’t mean to take it out on you.” He reassured you.

Damn, you really had him wrapped around your finger, didn’t you?

“Why didn't you just tell me? You know you can tell me anything.” The sad look on your face, with a little pout on your lips, made Logan’s defense crumble.

“I know, I’m sorry sweetheart. You already did so much for me I didn’t want to burden you with something else.”

You pouted even more.

“After all this time you still haven’t learned that you’re not a burden for me.” You shook your head and stepped closer. “I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you.” You took his hand and walked towards the door. “Come on!”

Logan smiled softly. Of course you forgave him right away, you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

He was so screwed!

“Is it anything like you remember?” You asked him and he looked around the building.

“Somewhat, yeah. But mostly things look out of place.”

Several families lived there after the Howletts, and in the latest decades functioned as a museum, so changes were to be expected, but at least most of the structure was left the same since the last time Logan was there.

You were spotted by an employee behind a counter.

“Welcome to Howlett Estate! Would you like a guided tour?” He asked.

“No.” Logan said simply. You threw him a look.

“We would like to explore on our own, but we may have questions for later.” You added politely.

“Okie dokie! Here are some flyers and you can use your phones to download more information.” 

You took the flyers and smiled.

“Thank you!” You said before taking Logan by the arm and walking away. “I like him, he says okie dokie.” Logan simply rolled his eyes.

Stepping into the museum felt like traveling through a time machine. The furniture, the lamps, the carefully preserved clothes, all of it carried the weight of 200 years of history. You couldn’t help but wish these artifacts could speak, sharing the stories they had witnessed. How many footsteps had echoed through these halls? How many secrets were tucked away within these walls?

With your arm gently hooked around Logan's, you strolled at a leisurely pace, making sure he didn’t rush through the space. You wanted him to take it all in, to truly absorb every detail around him.

In the main room rested an imposing portrait of the Howlett family: John, Elizabeth and little James.

“Is that you?” You whispered pointing at the boy on the painting.

“I think so.”

“Awww you were so cute!” You gushed. Logan blinked and looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Look at those little shorts!”

“I looked ridiculous in those clothes.” He deflected.

“Uh I’m sure they were very fashionable at the time.” You shrugged. “Your mom was very beautiful.”

Logan stared at the woman in the painting with a newfound pain in his chest: he craved for a motherly love he never felt. For someone who lived such a long life, he surely missed out on a lot of things.

“She really was.” He said softly.

You stayed quiet, knowing Logan needed a moment to process everything. There were signs of recognition in his eyes, but you didn’t dare to ask. If he wanted to share a memory with you, he would let you know.

You moved from one room to the other, until you reached a children’s bedroom and Logan stopped in his tracks.

“I remember this place…” He walked in slowly, taking everything in.

“Yeah?” You were curious. “Was this your bedroom?”

“I think so. It looked a bit different then, but yeah…”

“You had a big ass bed.” You pointed out the fancy mahogany bed. “I bet you were very spoiled.” You teased, but you dropped your playfulness when you saw the lost look on Logan’s face.

“I remember spending a lot of time in bed. I was a sickly kid.” He then walked to the bed and stared at it for a moment. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly Logan pushed the bed to the side, as if it weighed nothing.

“Logan!” You chastised. “We’re not supposed to touch anything!”

“Just keep watch.” Logan said before kneeling down and reaching behind the head of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked before leaning against the door, watching out for anyone coming your way.

“I left something in here…” he tapped around the wall until he heard a hollow sound. The room had clearly been reformed through the years, but to Logan’s surprise his little hidden spot was untouched. With one of his claws he managed to pull out a piece of skirting board and there it was: his little box of treasures.

He quickly put the board back in its place and then moved the bed.

“What is that?” You asked as you both sat on the bed. Logan opened the tin box, dust flying everywhere, and was met with little pieces of his childhood. There was an uncharacteristic tenderness in the way Logan picked the first item, his movements careful and deliberate, a stark contrast to his usual rough manner. 

It was a little lead soldier.

“I remember this, my grandfather got it for me during a business trip.” He said before going for another item, and then another, and another. “He wasn’t very nice, so little things like this meant a lot to me.”

In the box were all kinds of things a boy could treasure: a few colorful marbles, a feather, some coins…

“It’s like a time capsule.” You whispered before reaching in and taking a postcard from the box. It had a beautiful painting of a rose. You turned it around and read outloud “Love you forever, your little flower -Rose.” You smiled softly. “Mmmm who’s Rose?” 

Logan took a moment to think before picking the car.

“A childhood friend.” He said. It was a lie, or at least not the whole truth. Logan and Rose’s story was a long and messy one, one that ended in tragedy.

“A childhood friend.” You repeated with a scoff. “I didn’t know you called your friends “little flowers”.” you teased, elbowing him playfully.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He said before snatching the card from your hand and placing it back in the box. If it wasn’t because of the shy smile on his face you would think he was actually mad.

Then something in the box caught his attention and his smile dropped. You watched as he carefully picked up an old pocket watch from the box.

“This was my father’s.” He said softly. “It was broken, so he didn’t use it anymore. He told me I could keep it and maybe one day I would figure out how to fix it.” He frowned, caressing the watch with his thumb, the same way he did with his lighter. “That day never came.” He said sadly.

You watched him quietly, before placing your hand on his back and rubbing soothing circles on it.

“You just got a piece of him back, that’s something…” You commented.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Excuse me?” A voice behind you said. You quickly threw your coat on Logan’s lap, hiding the box, before turning to see a tour guide standing by the door. “You’re not supposed to sit on the bed.” He said, a disapproving look on his face.

“Right! Of course! I’m sorry!” You jumped from the bed and walked towards him. “So, I have some questions, I saw there are a lot of portraits on the staircase, are they members of the Howlett family? Who are they?” You talked fast, pushing the guide out to the hall to give Logan a moment alone. You gave Logan a pointed look over your shoulder before stepping out of the room.

Logan kept looking into the box before finally closing it and putting it in your bag. He would look more into it later, for now he had to make sure you weren’t getting in trouble.

He found you asking all kinds of questions to the poor guide, who looked confused and flustered.

“... so if the mattresses were filled with feathers, how many geese or ducks would they need to fill in a king sized bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”

“I imagine it would be a lot!”

“Right.”

“And they made their own candles, right? Now, how do you make a candle?” You asked, playing dumb.

“I think that’s enough, sweetheart.” Logan said, stopping by your side. The guide sighed with relief.

“I have one more question!” You said before turning back to the poor guy. “What happened to the Howlett family? Are they still around?”

“I’m afraid the family’s history is a tragic one. For starters John and Elizabeth’s first son, John Jr. passed away when he was a baby. Years later they had their second son, James. There aren’t any actual records, given the time, but for what we could gather James was an illegitimate son Elizabeth had with the groundskeeper, Thomas Logan. Either way John raised James as his own. Not that he had much of a choice, at the time it would’ve been a massive scandal if people knew James was a bastard child.” while the guide talked and pointed out some portraits you glanced at Logan. There was a storm brewing behind his hazel eyes and you worried he would lash out any moment.

“Whether Mr. Howlett knew or not isn’t clear, but we do know he fired Logan. One evenight Thomas returned and the two men fought to death. It’s believed that he came back to take his son away and was killed in the process, not without mortally wounding John first. Still, someone must’ve taken little James, because he went missing after that. People in town searched for him, but he was never found.”

Slowly and very discreetly you stood by Logan and took his hand. With a squeeze to his fingers you told him you were there for him. This couldn’t be easy for him to hear. He squeezed your hand back, your touch grounding him.

“Feeling incapable of carrying on without her husband and her soon,Mrs. Elizabeth Howlett took her own life. The Howlett name remained, thanks to John’s father, who kept the place up and running until his death. He never stopped looking for James.” The guide concluded.

There was an extended silence, as everything seemed to sink in.

“That is very sad.” you said softly after a moment.

“Indeed.” the guide said. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

You looked at Logan and he shook his head.

“No, that would be all, thank you.” You replied.

“Of course, don’t forget to stop by the gift store!” the guide said before retreating away.

You turned to look at Logan fully.

“Are you okay?” 

Logan barely nodded his head.

“Enough for today.” He mumbled before walking away. 

It wasn’t long before you were both sitting at a table in the far corner of a bar. Logan knocked back drink after drink while you nursed a beer. The tin box laid open on the table while Logan inspected some of his old “treasures”. You were quiet for most of it, but you were worried about him and couldn’t keep silent much longer.

“Are you okay?” You asked. “I know today was intense and a lot happened, but did you at least get some answers? Any memories?”

Logan nodded before downing another drink.

“He was wrong.” He mumbled.

“Who?”

“The tour guide. He got most of the story right, but some details were wrong.” Logan took his father’s watch with a longing look. “My father didn’t kill Thomas Logan, I did.” He confessed. “That night I found out I was a mutant, I killed him with my claws… I was just a child.” He shook his head in shame.

“Oh Logan, I’m so sorry.” you said placing a hand on his arm.

“Thomas Logan was my biological father, but he didn’t mean anything to me. John Howlett didn’t raise me to avoid a scandal. He loved my mother and he loved me. In my heart he will always be my true father.”

“What happened after?” You asked.

“Rose and I ran away with help from my grandfather. The memories get hazy after that, but I do recall…” He took a deep breath. “I recall killing Rose by accident.” He said sadly.

“Oh, Logan…” You didn’t know what to say. 

“I hurt everyone I care about, even before I knew I was a mutant I hurt my family.”

“No, Logan, stop. The way you were conceived wasn’t your fault, you didn’t choose to be your father’s son. You didn’t kill your mother, that’s on her.” You shook your head.

“What about Rose, uh? Or the others that came after her? My life is an endless battle, one death after the other.” He shook his head in defeat. “You should go back to the Mansion without me.”

Your heart dropped.

“What?” the question came out in a shaky voice. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Angel…” Logan sounded exhausted. “I’m a bad man. You don’t need a bad man in your life.”

You frowned and felt hot tears threatening to spill out. 

“Logan, I need you to listen to me.” You said while taking his hand over the table. “I know you say you’re a bad man because you feel guilty, because you have a conscience that weighs on you. But what if I told you that doesn’t make you a bad man. It does the opposite.” He looked at you confused. “A bad man doesn’t care if he hurts someone else, he only cares about himself. A bad man doesn’t have a conscience. And this, James Logan Howlett, is how I know you’re not a bad man. Because you care, I know you do, you care so much and behind this tough exterior there’s a good man craving forgiveness, companionship and even love.”

Logan looked at you for a moment, his eyes going from one side of your face to the other, as if he was memorizing your face.

“Sweetheart…” He breathed out.

“Please don’t leave me.” you begged, catching him by surprise. “You left once and it nearly killed me, please don’t do it again, don’t push me away.” Without realizing, tears started rolling down your cheeks. Logan reached up to touch your face and your eyelids dropped as he wiped your tears.

Your heart ached for him. You were convinced he would never love you back, not the way he loved Jean, but when he touched you like that you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope.

In the meantime Logan wondered how he got someone like you to care for him so much, to see the good in him when he couldn’t see it himself. You were so beautiful and if it was up to him you would never cry tears of sadness ever again.

“It’s been a long day, we both need some rest.” He said, both of you exhausted.

Once back at the B&B Logan walked you to your door.

“Will you be okay tonight?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” Logan replied without thinking too much, before frowning and rubbing his neck. “I think so...” he added unsure. “...probably not.”

“We can stay up and talk a little bit more, if you want.” You offered.

Talking was the last thing Logan wanted to do.

“Angel…” He stepped closer, something shifting in his eyes. He lifted a hand to your face, so slowly it felt as if he was trying not to scare you, and placed it on your cheek. Your breath hitched and you tilted your head against his hand, seeking his touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.” Logan whispered.

As if drawn together by an invisible force, you stepped closer until your chests were nearly brushing. Logan hesitated, his gaze searching yours for any sign to pull away, to stop. But all he found was an invitation: a soft, loving look that made him feel like the only person in the world. It was as if nothing else existed, no one else mattered, and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“I would do anything for you, Logan.” you confessed. 

And that was all Logan needed to take the next step. He leaned in and pressed his lips against you in a chaste, tentative kiss. Your hands moved up his chest to rest on each side of his neck, pulling him closer, his free hand resting on your hip.

When Logan pulled back he didn’t go far, he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly and looked at him still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he had kissed you. You dreamed of this moment so many times, you weren’t ready to let go.

You tilted your head up and kissed him again, this time with more enthusiasm as the initial shock washed away.

Logan wrapped his arm around your waist while you ran your hands up his neck and your fingers through his hair. When your tongue slipped past his lips, Logan let out a low growl and pulled you closer.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He hissed against your lips. “I should’ve kissed sooner.” He said before kissing you again.

“I wish you had.” You whispered. 

Logan pressed you against your door, wanting to feel you impossibly close.

“I don’t think I can stop.” Logan admitted. 

“I don’t want you to stop. I've wanted this for a long time.” You said, but before he could kiss you again you pulled your face away slightly. “But I need to know…”

Logan pulled back to look at you better and waited.

“Yes?”

Suddenly you felt like you couldn’t speak, no words would come out of your mouth. When Logan saw you struggle, he tilted your chin and made you look at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry if I pushed you too much.”

You quickly shook your head.

“No, it’s not that… It’s just that…” You took his hands, wanting to ground yourself. “If we’re going any further, I need to know it’s not because you can’t be with Jean.” You looked at him shyly. “I don’t want to be your second choice.”

Logan stared at you for a moment in shock. He knew you were aware of his feelings for Jean, you even held him when he cried over her engagement with Scott. So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you had your doubts. He wanted to shut those doubts down fast.

“You’re not.” He said. “I’m an idiot, this entire time I’ve been pinning after her yet you were here by my side, putting up with my crap.” He shook his head. “All those times I talked about her, did I hurt you?”

You chewed your lower lip as you tried to come up with an answer. But you didn’t need to, Logan saw right through you.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You instantly clinged onto him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” you tried to comfort him. “I’m sorry I killed the mood.”

Logan chuckled lightly against your skin.

“You didn’t kill anything. I’m glad we talked about this.” He pulled back and cupped your face. “I don’t want Jean, not anymore. I want you, even though I’m convinced I don’t deserve you.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shirt a little tug.

“You keep saying that, can I convince you otherwise?” You asked with a flirty tone as you played with his dog tags. Logan smirked.

“Perhaps I can be persuaded.” He flirted back.

You quickly opened your bedroom door and pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but giggle as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he kicked the door shut. This was everything you dreamed of! Logan easily picked you up by your thighs and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You better not drop me!” You laughed.

“Never!” He chuckled and kissed you again.

Logan set you down carefully on the dresser where he took his time tasting your lips and exploring your mouth. Your hands wandered all over his chest, his broad shoulders, his biceps… you wanted to touch every inch of him. You couldn’t get enough of him.

At one point he pulled back and caressed your cheek.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic softness. His eyes held a rare tenderness, mirrored in the gentle way his fingers brushed against you. It was a good thing you were sitting down because your knees were weak and you felt like melting inside. “My sweet little angel.” Logan added before kissing you again.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning his flannel and quickly pushed it off his shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to his jacket.

“Logan…” You whispered against his lips. “Take me to bed…”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You spend the rest of the night in Logan’s arms, making love and having all kinds of conversations in between, from deep and revealing to fun and silly. But you only had so much energy, and after the fourth round your eyelids started to drop. Logan watched you as you curled up against him, his fingertips caressing your arm up and down. You were breathtaking and he kicked himself for not realizing sooner.

At one point you felt the sheets rustling and the bed moving. You turned to see Logan sitting on the bed, slowly dressing himself. With your eyes heavy with sleep, you tried to sit up, lifting yourself up with your elbow.

“What are you doing?” You asked softly.

Logan turned to look at you and smiled at the sight: you looked adorable, half asleep, your hair a mess, your lips bruised from all the kisses. and the sheets barely covering your naked body.

“Go back to sleep, baby.” He whispered.

Your heart dropped.

“You’re leaving? Why?”

The worry and sadness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed to Logan.

“It’s not what you think.” He shook his head and leaned to kiss your forehead. “I just can’t fall asleep next to you.”

“Why?” you pouted.

“I’m worried I may hurt you again.” He admitted.

You looked at him for a moment, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I wish you didn’t leave.” You wanted nothing more but to sleep in his arms.

“I know, baby, I know.” He sighed. “I’ll keep working on it, I promise. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

You reached for his hand. What he didn’t know is that this was hurting you too.

“Will I see you in the morning?”

Logan smiled and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Darling, after tonight, you won’t ever get rid of me.” He chuckled and leaned to kiss you. “Get some sleep, I’ll bring us breakfast in a few hours.” He promised.

“Mmmokay.” You sighed and nuzzled your pillow. “It better be a good breakfast, with lots of kisses.”

Logan chuckled and got up.

“All the kisses you want, my angel.”

--

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[atombombkaytee]

I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

[tigersharkapologist]

Caracalla was, understandably, simply having a mental attack because the people were calling for their heads—but I like the little detail that Caracalla literally cannot think of one bad thing his brother did to him other than “trying to strangle him in the womb” lol. Which implies that Geta was that good of a brother to him.

_______________________________________________

bonus because I think there’s way more to it than just being Ha Ha Funny Gag to Lighten Tension and because I have a hyperanalyzation for hyperfixations problem:

TW: mentions of physical and emotional abuse, child abuse, bullying and murder

That or the darker undertone being that he cannot remember anything bad Geta did because of his memory loss from neurosyphilis (a disease that can cause memory loss). Which also implies that he probably doesn’t remember any of the crude specifics of the abuse they had to undergo in their childhood—only how it made him feel. Which is why, if you look really closely at his facial expressions during his episode, he hesitated only a little at the mention of that, but still didn’t falter entirely.

An even darker undertone being that he was experiencing so much of a specific kind of stress that his brain assumed it was being attacked by the same assailant that he had dealt with as a kid, Septimius Severus. So much so that it went into fight or flight. Caracalla was shouting “you lie!! You always lie!!” at his brother. From what we can tell with the little screentime we got of them, Geta has never shown to have any malicious intentions towards his brother, he had quite the opposite actually. He never lied to him. Like ever. But you know who probably DID lie to them constantly?

Their. Despicable. Sleazebag. Narcissistic. No show. Parents.

What if the neurosyphilis combined with the onslaught of the immense stress he was experiencing (so much so that it threw him into a fight response) made him believe Geta was Septimius? Think about it. Caracalla is under the full influence of an injured brain, and that same brain is being influenced by a hyper aggressive disease; neurosyphilis. What if he was so affected by the lies told to him in his childhood, that the minute he figures out something is a lie, or suspects of lying, it causes him to snap. Look at how he got with Acacius when he found out that his loyalty was basically a lie.

Lies cause him that much stress, they have to be connected with abuse. Look at him!! Lies are definitely his PTSD trigger.

Roping it back to Geta’s death. ,, Caracalla’s amnesia and panic response from his PTSD very well could have made him confuse Geta with their father. Though not all, it is not unheard of that survivors of immense physical abuse (in Caracalla’s case—being constantly punched and beaten up by a grown man when he was like?? 10??) attack someone close who they’ve confused with their abuser when an episode strikes. (keep in mind these are rarer cases but Caracalla is a rare and extreme case himself). It could be a huge possibility that Caracalla mistook Geta as their father and, he (understandably sick of Geta standing in between his father and taking those blows for him) decided to take his father head on and strike back—ultimately killing who his brain confused as Septimius. Another reason I believe this is because he literally reverted back to childlike tendencies and hid under the table when he felt this stress. Trembling, crying, whimpering, a very sore sight. It was as if he was taken back to the time where he felt this kind of fear before-- because that's literally what happened. I genuinely do not think Caracalla would ever kill Geta, his brother, his closest and only real friend. Even if he wasn’t in his right mind. Those two have lived through hell together, those trauma bonds are the strongest bonds Ive ever seen. They could fight, they could get real disgusting towards eachother, but I know nothing could break that sibling trauma bond, and I speak from experience. You could hate that man but he will always be your ride or die. Geta and Caracalla were TIGHT. He had to have confused him with his father during his PTSD episode. I highly doubt thats what the directors were going for but UHH idc lol that's what aus are for.

I want to know more about Septimius Severus. Was it just beating up his kids? I'm not undermining the grotesqueness of those actions, I want to know what else he did. It was clear he was a liar, it was clear he was a physically abusive "father” (he doesn't even deserve that title), but if it was so easy for him to hit his kids, than that opens up a whole new possibility of things he did. Like if it was so easy for him to punch a child, what else was easy for him? Did he refuse to feed them? Did he refuse to give them any gifts or luxuries? Is that why the twins are overindulgent to the point they suffer from it? Did he lock them out of the house to freeze in order to assert dominance? Did he publicly shame them as punishment? Did he shame them for the way they looked? How they were an embarrassment to the family name because of their appearance being too similar to the barbaric northern tribes they were conquering? Were plates thrown at them? Were they bullied by other children in their age group for having unloving parents? Did anyone worry for them? Did any bystander care? Did anyone ever intervene? Did they cower in fear of facing that same wrath that those children were forced to endure? What was the twins reaction to the death of their father? Were they overjoyed? Were they hollow? Were they, in a twist, mournful? Did they ever have real friends? Like friends that they didn't need to change themselves to feel accepted?

_____________________________________________

To pivot off that last sentence (not really related to the main point at all but I NEED to say it),

I don’t think so on that last one. I think they had to change themselves entirely and put on this fake persona in fear of being disliked. They did everything to follow the Patrician crowd, everything that made their lives even worse. And I bet you they thought they were making friends.

Nah. They were making temporary fragile alliances. For every 10 “friends” they’d make, 1000 enemies would be formed. And I bet you further that the Patrician didn’t respect them at all. Those blue bloods know when there’s blood in the water and they know that the two changed and rewired themselves just for acceptance. In their eyes, Caracalla and Geta are weak emperors (unfortunately they are. Conquesting counts do not equal to strength in oneself); easily replaced. And if Macrinus was thinking it, you can count on the rest of them, too. Remember in that deleted scene where Caracalla forgot he killed his brother? EVERYBODY knew about the murder but him and NOBODY batted an eye. Either they were scared of Macrinus (which I doubt they even knew he was apart of said murder) or they DEAD AHH DID NOT CARE ABOUT GETA LIKE AT ALL. THEY DIDNT LOOK EVEN SLIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE BRO 😭🙏. It was the SENATORS. SENATORS. That looked shocked. They weren’t even going to say “ave Dondas” out of pure shock until Macrinus said it first to pressure them.

Enough of my prattling. In conclusion, Caracalla is so far off the deep end he literally thought his own brother was his father DURING the height of his episode let me be clear (which isnt really the biggest stretch to be dead honest—it’s caracalla bless him my poor baby), is pretty much permanently ruined and scarred because nobody is going to help him—no one cared enough, and he is never EVER going to live a normal happy life. Geta tried so, so very hard to give him that, but in the end, the two were born hated, born broken, and the world reminded them that until both of their untimely ends.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) Scenario: Sexual Assault

Pairing: Dark Ethan Landry x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SCENARIO: Ethan's girlfriend suffers sexual assault.

WARNINGS: Sexual Assault (Rape!) + Don’t read the end if your heart is weak.

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

The only person that would be more heartbroken than you is your boyfriend. You can see it in his face how much it hurt - broke - his heart that such a tragedy happened to you.

Blaming himself for what happened. He’s your boyfriend so you’re his responsibility. He should've been there to protect you, to shield you from the evil in this world. 

But he’s here for you now. Every therapy appointment, every medical exam, every police interrogation, he’s always there. Giving you a shoulder to cry on, drying your tears away, giving you all the love and support you need.

He’s the only person that makes you feel better as your whole world shatters. 

You never saw it coming. It’s one of those things that always happens to others, never you. And this time, you weren’t so lucky. 

That whole night is a blur, only shreds of it coming back. It was Halloween’ night party and you went out with your group of friends.

Ethan also tagged along but you vaguely remember kissing him goodbye as he left early because of a headache but not before practically demanding your friends to take good care of you. 

You remember the sharp lights, the banging music, the pushy crowd. A red plastic cup in your hand and while the content seemed normal at the first few gulps, it made you dizzy with a speed that wasn't natural. 

You remember stumbling back to your dorm, you’re not even sure how the hell you managed to walk back in the awful drunken state you were in.

You never saw his face, quickly manhandled into the bed with your face shoved on the bed as he fucked you from behind. You’re grateful for the blurry memories you have, only fragments of it coming back.

The punishing pace he had, like he was taking out his anger on you. The brutal thrusts that lasted forever as he furiously chased his high, ignoring the pain he was causing you. How strong he was, body weighing heavy on top of you, his hands holding your body down, making sure you didn’t get away from him. 

Ethan is the only one that doesn’t pressure you to remember things. Everyone asks for details - any small detail would help, they say - but Ethan allows you to hide in the darkness of the oblivion, maybe he knows that, deep down, you don’t really want to remember. You want to forget it. 

What happened changed you. 

You become more secluded, preferring the comfort of your house as you move back instead of going out. Nights out are a heavy no for you, not even your parents feel at ease with it and neither does Ethan, but you also don’t mind.

You join online college, effectively becoming a hermit. Hiding behind a screen makes you feel safe, people can’t judge you like that. 

Ethan frequently keeps you company after his classes and the two of you spend evenings in a lazy but comfortable way, watching movies or studying. It’s a nice routine and soon you get used to it.

He always hesitates before touching or kissing you and you feel grateful that he’s considerate of your feelings. His kisses are soft and short, never leading to anything more. He knows you still need time to heal from your trauma. 

You slowly push away your friends, avoiding their texts or invitations to hang out. Even when they come to visit you, you barely utter a few words. You don’t know why you’re doing it, maybe it’s a coping mechanism or maybe you blame them for what happened to you.

Maybe if they had stuck closer to you instead of leaving you on your own…

But it’s fine, you have Ethan and that’s all that matters. 

Hugs make you claustrophobic but not his. No, having Ethan’s strong arms around you makes you feel protected, secured. Like no bad thing in this world can get to you. 

One day Ethan comes to your house only to rush back  to the college, having forgotten a book of his. You chuckle when you notice he left his phone behind, but you let it be. He’ll be back soon, anyways.  

You only wanted to check for any games he could have on his phone, but the sweet collection of photos he has in his gallery distracts you. 

It makes your heart melt when you look at them. Dozens of pictures of you and Ethan light up the screen and you fondly recognize them as most of them were taken by you. 

You almost pout when they come to an end and you decide to check his cloud for more photos, he probably has more there given how he likes to keep everything safe in his online account. 

But the warm smile soon slips from your face, heart dropping to your stomach as a video automatically starts playing. 

And you’re in it. 

It’s a bit hard to see, only a dim light illuminating the room but you know it’s you. 

That’s you, pressed against the bed as Ethan hovers over you, his movements never stopping even as you cry. 

Your boyfriend is the one that assaulted you.