#ive missed a lot of my teenage life because of her

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Thirteen: Outburst

Tim’s parents had to leave early one afternoon before dinner. I’d grown attached to Tim’s mom and dad. Especially Janet… And I knew why. I sat in the living room with Tim while he ate popcorn. “Tell them to stay,” I whispered.

Tim looked at me like I had two heads. “Why would I do that? They’ve been planning the Zanzibar trip for months. We’re here by ourselves all the time,” Tim replied. I shrugged, swallowing hard as I tried to seem like a normal human being. “Popcorn. Eat. Movie. Watch.”

Janet passed by my side of the couch, and I made eye contact with her. It was stupid and desperate and-. I cried. Tim was appalled, Janet was bewildered, and Mr. Drake was-. Well, he was uncomfortable. “Jason, what’s wrong?” Janet asked. She kneeled beside me and touched my face.

As soon as I started crying, I realized it was wrong. “Nothing… I’m sorry,” I replied, “I’m sorry. I just-. It’s dumb.”

“So dumb,” Tim muttered as he shoved the popcorn bowl in my arms. He stormed out of the room, and Janet felt split between us, so I wiped my tears away and made it easy for her. I stood up and chased Tim.

“Tim, I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He rushed upstairs, and I limped upstairs after him. “Tim, wait-.”

“What’s your deal? They’re my parents,” Tim whispered. He had every right to be angry with me.

“I said I was sorry. Tim, it was a stupid reflex,” I whispered, “I didn’t realize how much I miss my mom… I looked at your mom, and it-. Tim, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Tim crossed his arms, but his expression softened. His eyes scanned me as he sighed. “Jason, you’re not my friend… You’re my brother, and I’m being selfish,” Tim mumbled, “There’s no reason why we can’t share parents.”

I rubbed my neck, still embarrassed by my outburst. “Tim, you don’t have to pretend you’re okay with-.”

“Jason, we’ve shared a bed. I know all your secrets. You know all mine… We spend every moment of every day together, and I have never been happier. I think-. My parents are hardly ever around, and it hurts. It’s gonna hurt a lot until you stop caring,” Tim explained, “I don’t want you to like my parents because I don’t want you to get your hopes up. You want a mom and dad that stay home and support you and have nice family dinners-. I hate that it’s not that way… But it’ll never be. Look downstairs. They’re gone because they couldn’t be late for their flight.”

I frowned. He was right. I got caught up in the delusion that they could be more than what they were. “I’m glad you don’t hate me… Can we finish the movie?” I asked. Tim nodded. The maid went to bed, and Tim pulled out his laptop.

He’d been itching to return to our plan despite me telling him parts of what was going on. “Jason, when are we gonna go through with the plan?” Tim questioned.

“Halloween… Or New Year’s… We’ve gotta wait for a time when people are extra weird because it’s harder for him to sift through the actual threats and the costumed partygoers,” I explained, “So, while everyone’s having the time of their life… We’ll show him that a couple of teenagers can do his job as well as he can.” Tim grinned.

“What were you gonna make for dinner?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know… Maybe quesadillas. Why?” I questioned.

Tim shrugged. He took the popcorn bowl from me and stared at the TV. “Last night… After you went to bed, I sat with my mom in her office. She told me she was worried I wasn’t happy. Mom was right… I hadn’t been happy. I was sort of-. I dunno… I was alive, but I wasn’t living. I have friends and stuff, but they don’t get me like you do. This is the happiest I’ve been since I was a little kid,” Tim confessed. I hugged my knees and nodded. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. So, I hope that after the plan’s over, and-.”

“Brothers, Tim. We’re brothers. This isn’t some group project where we part ways at the end. I promise,” I reassured him. Family was everything. He fell asleep after the movie ended. His arms lay limp at his sides while the popcorn bowl sat empty on his lap. I chuckled at his loosened jaw and open mouth.

*

Janet and Mr. Drake wouldn’t be back for at least three weeks. We finished Tim’s Robin costume by then, perfectly recreating my old one. That’s when we received a postcard. Tim tossed it in a box filled with other postcards. Our school closed for a few days for building maintenance… Which left us some time to goof around at the mall. We got milkshakes the size of our heads and walked through half the stores on the second level. It almost felt normal until I saw Bruce. “Tim, let’s go downstairs-.”

“Jason, it’s nice to see-.”

“It’s not nice for me,” I interrupted. Tim couldn’t look up from his drink.

“Well, I-. Don’t I have a right to know what you’ve been up to?” Bruce questioned.

“I’m gonna take Tim out of town,” I answered, “We’re killing time.”

“Overnight trip?” Bruce asked.

“Uh-huh… You want to hug me, don’t you?” I asked. Bruce nodded. I embraced him because I wanted to. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face into his chest. He smelled like fresh pine. Bruce rested his chin on top of my head. “I’m not coming home.”

Bruce didn’t immediately let go. “I know… Thanks for humoring me,” Bruce whispered.

“I’m not humoring you… I’m only hugging you because I miss you,” I confessed. It didn’t mean I forgave Bruce.

Bruce let go. “Go have fun,” Bruce whispered. He patted me on the shoulder as he left the store.

“What was that?” Tim asked.

I playfully knocked into Tim. “It’s complicated… Let’s get going. I wanna get a ferry out of here before it gets dark,” I whispered. Tim smiled as he followed me to the food court to get another milkshake, and we left the mall.

Tim shivered involuntarily. “I think these things have caffeine,” Tim laughed as the autumn breeze hit us. I snorted.

“Of course it does,” I chuckled. Tim and I walked to the train, and I sighed. “I’m not mad at him anymore… I’m not going home on principle.”

“What’s the principle?” Tim asked.

“The plan… And Bruce still hasn’t changed his mind about me,” I explained, “He’s wrong.”

Before Tim could reply, some guy pressed his pointer fingers to the back of our spines. “Oww!” I shrieked as I dropped to my knees. Everyone at the stop stared as I curled into a ball and pretended to be in excruciating pain. It wasn’t hard to sell it. I’d been there. The guy ran off, and Tim helped me up.

“Jeez, are you-? You were faking, weren’t you?” Tim half-smiled. I nodded as I dusted my clothes off.

“We’re lucky the train’s coming because we would’ve had to fight him… And that would’ve raised questions,” I whispered, “Besides, we wanna get to the ferry before it gets too dark.”

[fearowkenya]

Cold-blooded, ruthlessly efficient, and cruel in its methods. These are words that can be applied to an alligator, sizing up its target as it lurks beneath the surface and waits for the perfect opportunity to drag it into the depths. The same words can equally apply to Shuuji’s father, who never stops watching his every move, judging Shuuji for missteps he doesn’t even know he’s making as he tries to live up to unclear and impossible expectations.

Stressed, scared senseless, and operating entirely on adrenaline. These are words that can be applied to somebody attempting to escape from an alligator, desperate for a shred of hope. The same words can equally apply to a participant in a game of capture the flag, where one team’s lone survivor fights for their life in hopes that a singular small success will turn the tides.

Shuuji gets a weird text at the worst possible time. Ryo risks his neck for the sake of the team. There’s alligators.

yeah im not posting the entire fic under the readmore , im not prepared to spend another two hours of trial-and-error on formatting. anyway i have so much to say about digisurvive but im unfortunately not the type to talk about stuff unprompted until im much more confident n comfortable. instead i'll talk about the First Ficwriting Experience Since 2016

ive seen all four endings but i havent done what im calling my Victory Lap playthrough yet. what i mean by Victory Lap is that i got my guys at lvl 80+ and the only real purpose of going thru it all again is to see any early-game missed dialogue and take unnecessarily-meticulous character notes

im not about to claim to be a Blorbo Expert w a PhD or anything but i think ive got a pretty solid understanding of the bulk of the characters and can manage a pretty accurate portrayal . shuuji and ryo are definitely the easiest characters for me to write , and im anticipating that the same will be true for kaito. i cant say for certain tho since i havent explored his voice much yet but im more or less confident that i can do a good job

at first i was like oh god oh fuck i cant write aoi but i thought about it for 2 seconds and it turns out that uhhhhhhhh i was a lot like her when i was a teenager. the insecurities are exactly the same, it is so horrifyingly uncanny. so for me, saki is the one that i find the most difficult to characterize and i love that because it seems so deliberate. this girl DOES NOT want you to perceive her and is doing her best to ensure that you do not notice that she has anything to hide. if you are good at writing saki, i have a lot of respect for your tremendous power

but thankfully sakis presence in this is minimal so i dont have to worry about that just yet. what i AM worried about are my formatting choices. i think theres a lot of potential in fucking around with indentation, typeface, and text placement, so im taking a swing at trying to push it further than i have before. i think it can serve so well to imply when something is happening, what else is happening at the same time, and how it makes the characters feel without having to outright say so. i dont want it looking like a geronimo stilton book tho so i gotta learn to strike a balance lmao

SO much of the way i enjoy character portrayal comes from tone and nonverbal communication, especially really subtle stuff like eye movement and body language. i think it can be so challenging to write that stuff in a way that doesn't feel clunky or encumber the pacing. the thing im practicing right now is saying stuff without saying it, and also trying to improve my imagery & symbolic language. im having a lot of fun with it

mkay im actually late for work so i need to post this damn thing and move on my with my day. thanks for your time!!

[semi-imaginary-place]

ao no flag is really really good and ive been going feral. This is one of if not the only romance manga series i have ever liked.

Ao no flag is one of the only school life dramas check it out if you feel like reading about teenagers having emotions. What initially caught my and the internet's attention in... 2018? was that it takes it's queer characters seriously and treats them with respect. They aren't jokes or stereotypes but characters in their own right. My shounen jump+ has queers in it? Its more likely than you think. The weaknesses of the manga are that it layers meaning and that can be hard to pick up on a first reading. Showing not telling. One key thing is that taichi the protag is a confused mess of a teenager a walking contradiction and whirling ball of insecurities and if you dont understand this you miss like half the manga. Its unclear to the audience what taichi is feeling at any given point because he has no clue what he himself is feeling. Theres also like 2 chapters everyone agrees was poorly done which i have words about. Have i mentioned ao no flag is gay. Not in a fujoshi fanservice way but in an actual queer way.Its like 50 ch so you can knock it out in a day.

The manga uses stylization as a narrative device. So character are drawn based on how the pov character sees them. The pov character 80% of the time is taichi. A good example of this pov shift is that we the audience almost never see taichi as he actually is we usually see him how taichi sees himself. And taichi has like zero self confidence so he sees himself as kinda awkward and unattractive which translates to him looking cartoonish to the audience. Pay attention to when he stops looking cartoonish and who is looking at him then. Mon, omega, and yorkie look like that because taichi sees them as friends on his level. Ch 22 has one of the best examples of this but theres quite a few scattered throughout the manga. The other good example is the final chapter.

So theres a raging debate in the fandom (all 3 of us lol) about authorial intent for stuff that happens later on. whats established in the beginning: taichi has a crush on futaba. Futaba has a crush on touma. Taichi decides to help set her up with touma because... Well its complicated(1). Touma notices their plotting and spending a lot of time together and draws the conclusion that futaba has a crush on taichi. So now touma is trying to set up taichi and futaba. If that sounds like a mess then well yeah this is a teen drama. Which is also why im surprised i liked ao no flag. People have compared it to kids on the slope though i've never read that manga.

(1) taichi's got a massive inferiority complex about touma. He's put touma on a pedestal. He feels so inadequate around touma that he's uncomfortable being near him thus their relationship at the beginning. Taichi feels he has 0 chance with futaba (competing against touma) so he'll take what scraps of attention and time he can get through the excuse of helping her get her crush

You can see in these early chapters that of the two its really touma that is pushing to reconnect with taichi. I find it rather compelling

[apotheosphorus]

having discovered life is strange from gtlive circa 2016 was a legit life changing experience

as a teenager also roughly 16 years old at the time, it tapped into i think the forlorn beauty of being a lost adolescent. though cerebrally i knew matpats criticisms of chloe were valid (re: see the chloe the koala bit) something about how absolutely raw and honest her character was as a hurt, yet strong teenaged girl resonated with me. i appreciated her crass but unapologetic demeanor, but also the ways vulnerability and pain dictated a lot of her choices. it made me feel a lot better about my own circumstances, as i was dealing with a lot of sexual and domestic abuse at the time.

now im 21, and retrospectively i feel less emotionally connected to chloe and more aligned with matpats entire approach to the game. but that also kinda makes me feel sad, because it means ive grown up and matured past that era and emotional stasis of my life- i still feel the echoes of my kindred feelings towards chloe, but i dont feel like im living in her world anymore. which i think is a good thing, since i think it means ive since moved on and healed. but i still miss the feels and the vibes of being 16 and sitting in my room in the dark vibing to the soundtrack, just caught up in the moment.

[onmymasa22]

Write down ur future goals

I have a lovely life. I wear nice clothes. I wear nice jewelry. I love noce stuff.

Tell me about a day in my future life based onq

What i never said, but i mean ti say is: i dont want u in my life. I was better off before u were in my life, and ill b better off after i clean my head from u. I need a major cleaning. Cuz i shouldve thrown u out before. Half a year ago. In my life, u are all worthless. Ur not on my level. Im nice, so i didnt kick u out, and i dont like change or goodbyes. But i need to just move on from u. I need to just be who i am, with out loser guys around me. Im so much better than that. I still want the nice guy. Not the slick guy, not the loser cant wake up in the morning, not the complainer. Just get the fuck away from me. Stop talking to me. Move the fuck on, let me go. U had ur shot. U missed it. Now stop talking to me.

Most people who go to college for education want to teach elemary or highschool kids. Lots of people around me like these ages. I think my issue is that i have no respect for them. The lack of respect causes my lack of patience. I dont respect teenagers. To me, theyre idiots. Theres no bigger idiot in the world than a teen, myself at 15 included. Everything is drama u cant figure out, its all the end of the wirld, ur the stupidest, most ugly, worst self esteemed individual, and everyone is like that. U have oily hair, teeth that dont make sense or hurt, ur either the annoying one who needs to be in every picture, or ur the one who thinks ur so cool and cant he in any picture. I hated people when i was that age, why would i want to be around that again. I like old people.

The amount of times my hearing was mistaken this holiday with a loud family that never let's something funny slide, we can all do like guitar riffs with it at each other

In my family we all know how to jam out to guitar riffs but with jokes. We are all loud and all of us have humor that can go from dark, to old jewish. But because its like a guitar riff jam, everyone literally collaberates to a "stand up set" improve style until everyone laughs so hard they're tearing up. That's a normal weekend in my family.

A yom tov where my family is together means putting a bunch of people with loud personalities who all have a sense of humor to the extreme where everything can be funny. Like ive been with some families where u need to be obnoxious, or a health freak, or deal with the weird uncle who drunk and talking nonsense but theyre assuring u that he is actually very smart (which is like when people say their weed is "the good stuff", it never is. When they tell u he is "very smart", he isn't). In my family, u need a sense of humor that can match everyone. We ll have different ways that we're funny-im the most made fun of between everyone and im almost non offendable, and i make it funnier.

what i learned about ppl who sell weed- if they tell u its high quality, it never is.

Like how in some families, u need to be vegetarian or obnoxious to make it, at my house u need a sense of humor and to be

I cry way more then i used to. Usually when im emotional. I was never a cry at movies or books or songs kind of person. I knew my grandmother as that person. Everything made her cry. And after i accomplished lots of healing, breaking cycles, letting go of unhealthy relationships, therapy, throwing myself into learning new skills even when it was more boring than a crazy night. I really thought id never feel happy again. I was so numb yet emotionally raw at the same time. I thought boring normal relationships or doing things where i wasnt almost dying, never knew how the night would go so took a toothbrush life. That was what my life became. And in my own time, through my own decisions, i gave therapy a shot. And i still didnt think id ever be happy with normal. I threw myself into learning guitar. It was always something i was interested in, from elementary school, someone brought one and played and i was in awe of it. Kind of like i was in awe of someone speaking hebrew which i also learned.

Im just proud that i chose life. After a long time of choosing death. This year, i chose life. This next year, i want to choose life too.

This year i want to choose life.

I want to be fully committed to myself, being guided by halacha.

I will choose life.

I will get a job that feeds my passions.

I will have enough money to live and extra to give and live nicely.

I will battle each day that the demons show up. I will fight to live a healthy boring life.

In my life right now, healthy doesnt mean eating salads everyday. It doesn't mean going to the gym. It doesn't mean counting calories, or being a runner, or owning a stanley cup thing. Healthy means

I had to learn this:

Treat people according to who u r, not according to who they r.

[lushlagoon]

072424

I dont know what to do about my relationship, hopefully a few months of distance will do good things for me. I just need to be left alone but I dont know 1. how to let go of something good, 2. how to be alone, and 3. how to break her heart when I know it will end tragically. I know this is her first time with anything, intense.

I dont know. every other serious conversation we have she gets emotional, and I feel bad and leave it alone and comfort her. a few hours later I realize she was the one being immature, and I have to explain everything to her. she is not going to be good with a breakup.

ive been thinking about abundance and neglect a lot lately. I left for a flight and as I was cleaning my room I was finding pre rolls everywhere. just leaving them as little treats for myself to find later. I also left $40 on my desk, but hidden a little in case anybody random sleeps in my room, which I told my roommates their friends can sleep in my bed.

These are things I dreamed of as a kid and teenager, letting friends crash at your place whenever, having so much weed you can't even keep track of it, and just leaving cash laying around because you have enough of it.

Need to find more childlike wonder in adult life.

I love myself, I need to practice more wellness rituals like saying I love myself. just because I dont violently sob every night does not mean im healthy.

I think im depressed, im going to London for 6 weeks for study abroad and then I will no longer be a student. I am nervous about everything. and I miss weed.

until next time.

[savefilescomng12]

Michael Strahan's daughter Isabella has belated 19th birthday celebration after missing actual birth date due to brain surgery

Michael Strahan’s daughter Isabella shared an inside look into her belated 19th birthday celebration after missing her actual birth date while recovering from emergency brain surgery. The teenager — whose birthday was in October — appeared in good spirits as she baked cupcakes with a close pal in a vlog posted to her YouTube channel Tuesday. “We’re doing a little birthday celebration because I was not conscious for it,” she said while giggling. “Happy Birthday!” The college student — whose birthday was in October — showed herself baking cupcakes with a friend in a video posted to her YouTube channel Tuesday. YouTube/@IsabellaStrahan “We’re doing a little birthday celebration because I was not conscious for it,” she said. YouTube/@IsabellaStrahan Isabella was also joined in the vlog by her famous father and twin sister, Sophia, who helped light candles on the cupcakes before singing “Happy Birthday.” The University of Southern California student also shared throwback footage of herself unconscious in a hospital bed for her birthday as her family decorated her room with balloons and a birthday sign. A day before her big day, Isabella had undergone surgery to remove a “fast-growing, 4-centimeter tumor” from her brain after she noticed strange symptoms of “throwing up blood” and being unable to “walk straight.” Isabella appeared in good spirits while preparing the mix. YouTube/@IsabellaStrahan She was joined by her twin sister Sophia and her famous father as they sang “Happy Birthday.” YouTube/@IsabellaStrahan Following the surgery, Isabella was subjected to 30 days of rehabilitation as she learned how to walk again with the help of her family. She also underwent chemotherapy. Despite a few setbacks, Isabella has remained optimistic in her journey. Last week, Isabella also shared that she was suffering memory loss as a result of a new medication she started taking. “I don’t remember Tuesday ’cause I’m given this drug to protect my hearing and just because I have a reaction to it, they give me Ativan,” she told her viewers. The University of Southern California student also shared footage of herself on her 19th birthday. YouTube/@IsabellaStrahan She was unconscious in her hospital bed. YouTube/Isabella Strahan “And for some reason — this happened last time too — I can’t remember a single thing about that day.” “I’m just sitting on my couch now — literally I just want it to be June already,” she added. “I just wait around for the next time I get chemo and I’m kind of scared like, once I’m done, how am I gonna go back to normal life?” In April, the model also emotionally opened up about her third craniotomy after developing a fever. “It’s not as bad as the first time but I’m really in pain. They do give me pain medicine … they don’t work that well on me. So I’m in a lot of pain,” she said in a YouTube video while tearing up. Following her surgery, Isabella had to learn to walk again. Isabella Strahan/YouTube Despite a few setbacks, she’s attempted to stay optimistic. michaelstrahan/Instagram However, Isabella has also been proactive in preparing for her future as she froze her eggs shortly after receiving her diagnosis. “Since chemo and radiation can affect my fertility, my first step was egg freezing,” she revealed in January. “That was not fun for me … I am not a big needle person. I’ve gotten used to my blood and IVs, but shots? That was rough.” Source link Read the full article

[irregulardiaryposts]

20:40 07/03/2024

okay wow well its been well over two years since i updated this 'diary' blog lol

so weird seeing all those old posts about being a teenager with existential thoughts lol i dont really think like that anymore, at least not so much. i guess an update is in order then lmao okay so im in my 3rd year of uni now and im doing my year abroad! doing it in a small city in spain and i really quite like my job, ive only got 14hrs, i have a 3 day weekend, the city is small so i can walk everywhere and this job really gives me a sense of purpose that ive been missing in my life. makes me really realise that university is NOT for me lmfao i was so depressed during my second year i probs went to like 20% of my classes loool. im pretty sure i mightve almost failed aswell but since the professors were doing a marking boycott they released grades without marking the final exam and so since i was already doing well enough in all my classes i passed! quite lucky i think cos i wouldve been so entirely embarrassed and ashamed if i had to repeat a year cos of mental health. i think things are better here tho my issues havent disappeard completely like eg i have these evening classes 6-7.40pm tuesdays and thursdays and for the past like month i havent attended :/ at first it was cos i was sick (i think it was covid lol either from glasgow or on the plane back idk) and then i just didnt go back to class. i think my main excuse is that that is dinner time for me and i dont wanna move dinner time lol. but also i think the class itself is just not for me i dont feel like i learn a whoooole lot while im there and learning on apps is easier for me? but i always felt better for going to the classes cos i was like ha! im not depressed would a depressed person do this!? but of course depression doesnt work like that and i think i need medicated ! but that seems too scary to say. but at least i found someone to do a language exchange with! ive only had one hour with her in spanish, which was yesterday, but i already feel like ive improved lmaooo like i literally dreamt last night in a mix of spanish and english ahahahah cos when i think about it i literally have not ever regularly spoken spanish, ive only really spoken for activies in class or speaking exams so no wonder i have 0000 confidence in my speaking abilities but im hopeful that this will really improve my speaking :) about my job i guess- i work in a high school and i really enjoy interacting with the kids they really do make every day different and more interesting so i am grateful for them but sometimes damnnn sometimes i wanna jump out the window especially with this third year class they are the class KNOWN for being a bitof a pain lol and sometimes i have to lead the class by myself lmaooo mid u ik im 20 but i dont look it and they certainly dont treat me like an adult or a teacher and ngl they are a bit disrespectful at times but also what are u gonna do they are 14 and i have no proper teaching experience to help them by myself i can only hope that im actuallt helping them learn english lol. it is quite difficult tho with my scottish accent to try and sound as clear as possible because i pronounce almost 100% of the vowel sounds differently than rp english which is what i think they are used to so i have to realllyyyy annunciate all my words and man is it tiring lol.

what else. im going to madrid this weekend with bestie and im really looking forward to having a relaxing and fun time but i still havent packed my bags looooooool i alwyas do this tho and its fine not a big deal at all but i def need to do it tonight cos im leaving tomorrow immediately after work so ill have to have an actual breakfast and take snacks with me. im really enjoying my time in spain or at least im trying to but i feel like i have pushed myself enough out my comfort zone to be able to look back on this and say yeah i really took advantage of that. like i think i need to be more personable (is that a word yes it is i used it right) in teaching and be more interactive with them and stuff also i feel like i shoulve arranged a language exchange sooner cos i think this will really help, and i need to interact more with the other assistant but the thing is is im just not a sociable personnnnnnn aghgh. any way cutting this short cos i need to pack my bags for my trupppppp

[crystalhopesblog]

Teenage Odyssey: A Tale of Growth, Connection, and Discovering

Senior high school life is a mosaic of academic endeavors, social connections, personal growth, and anticipations for the future. It is a transformative journey where students not only acquire knowledge and skills but also cultivate resilience, perseverance, and a sense of purpose. 

I was extremely nervous on my first day of being senior highschool student since I had no idea what to expect on my first day because I didn't know anyone around me and had no idea what to anticipate from this school. I applied to this school because a friend of mine really wanted to study in perpetual and she needed someone to study with her; this is her ideal school, but she was unable to get admitted since she applied so late. 

When I got in, I saw a lot of strange faces and absolutely no idea exactly how this school functioned. I also wasn't given a chance to tour the school because I was a latecomer, so I am worried I'm going to end up lost. Thankfully, one of my classmates approached me before my first day of school to guide me in our notes and lessons that I missed. He also assisted me in going to places in school such as the cafeteria, gym, and so on. This is the unexpected part because I did not have a hard time coming through this school due to its positive atmosphere and my classmates and even my schoolmates are so pleasant and approachable.

I've got an amazing experience and built and unforgettable memories in first year of senior high school with people that ive met until my 2nd year in senior high we still cherish the bond that we constructed together. This is my second year as a senior high student, and I've felt more challenged because of an overload of schoolwork and events, The ability to fit in, make sustainable connections, and maintain a balance between social and academic life can be overwhelming. But I consider this is an challenge for me to prepare and ready myself for my college and adulthood journey. As a teenager, I go through the difficulties of teenage years and engage on a journey that not only defines the present but also sets the stage for the chapters of my life that are yet to come.

However, there is an holding that is beneficial within those challenges. During these years, the friendships developed, lessons acquired, and personal growth witnessed all contribute to a complete and transforming journey. This stage is also filled with hope and excitement. The thought of upgrading one's education, entering the workforce, or going on new adventures brings up fresh possibilities and prospective for development. 

[bakafurai]

No but like. Ur so right tho,,, (also hi your teblogs ate so totally fine i love seeing them!)

Reload was my first time experiencing persona 3's story. By the time i was doing nozomi's social link, it was january in-game (i got side tracked with other stuff, but the way the cult stuff was incredibly off putting considering it was showing up like. In the main plot. What timing i chose to have lmao) and i had since learned he was a hated social link for reasons unknown to me.

I. I didn’t get why he was so hated. (And i still don't tbh.)

And honestly given the unnecessary hate I've seen for fellow moon arcana Mishima from persona 5 gets I really should have known (I didn’t get time to do Ai's sl in p4 but I'm will to bet she has received similar treatment)

And honestly it pisses me off because so many people forget these are teenagers. They are not adults with more emotional maturity- and tbh even then im 23 and i still don’t think I've reached full emotional maturity.

Kenji did nothing wrong. he is a teenager having a harmless crush on some older, they were not dating and litterally he didn't even ask her out. I have seen. Many teenagers his age finding older people attractive- attraction and action are 2 different things.

The fault goes entirely on ms kanou for not taking action to distance herself from him if he noticed he was into her like that- because tbh it sounds like she noticed. Ms kanou is the adult here and it should be her responsibility to make the appropriate decision.

Nozomi is a teenager. He got pulled into a cult and ended up making poor decisions, but makoto was there for him. Called him out when he felt like he might be going to far, and then followed him to save him from being seriously hurt even after nozomi snapped at him and straight reversed the social link.

Nozomi is a teenager who suffered bc life was an asshole and people hate him for it. What the fuck.

(Small addition i didn’t know where to add this but here's the one bit of liveblog i found of me doing nozomi's social link. I've developed an eatimg disorder but ive struggled a lot with stress eating in the past, I'm on anti-depressants so its been more dormant lately, so i could understand a bit of what he was going through.)

All that is to say the p3 fandom is unnecessarily mean to both kenji and nozomi and only look at this one trait and decide thats its their whole character. Its not. Its really not.

If you dislike a character thats fine, everyone has a right to an opinion and i will respect that. What I don’t respect is miss-characterisation, please try to understand the character first before you go thinking them as the worst person to exist on thd planet :(

Man every time I see people imply or straight up say p3mc doesn't care about Kenji (and this extends to suemitsu as well) I get so

LIKE TFYM HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT THEM THOSE ARE HIS SOCIAL LINKS?????? IF HE DIDN'T CARE WHY WOULD HE HAVE FORMED A LITTERAL BOND THAT STRENGTHENS HIS PERSONAS???? LIKE HUH????

Orpheus Telos exists because he cares about his friends. His actions at the end of the game happen for that exact reason.

He literally gains the power of the universe because cares about all. of. his. friends.

[theprincessoffrost]

Im tired...

Like emotionally and physically though mostly emotional. Warning rant ahead. I moved into my new place a few years ago. In all that time my mom has been in the house once. My dad has been over a handful of times. I try extending invites to them like lets watch a movie? My roomie has a scrapped together home theater. Lets watch stuff at my house. Nah theyd rather stay home? I guess i can understand. But im expected to drop everything for my mom and do whatever she wants. Then she has the NERVE to say i don't invite them over. Uh... what? She wants me to pamper her feet. I invite her to my house because i have the same suff she does at her house if not more. She tells me shed rather not because (exscuses from i have roommates to i dont have the right comfortable furniture). Then just last night driving home from dinner she tells me my younger bro cut her nails but she needs me to streighten them up. I ask in (what i thought ) was an exasperated tone (because im tired of being the one going to their house) when? She takes it as me being bitchy and tells me to forget it in a flippant teenage girl way. Shes always like this! Its manipulation and guilting. Ill show some displeasure and she flips out. Its been like that since i became a teenager (im 25 now). I tried to have a ligit coversation and she just dismissed whatever i had to say. I guess according to her i am "always agressive and bitchy" whenever i talk to her. When i was still living with my parents i had a silly disagreement with her over her having an unrelated conversation with someone who commented on a fb post of mine in the comments of the post. She told me to go to hell and blew up on me. What also has really broken me down is the fact i moved into a new place and my parents were kinda like meh good job. My older brother moved into a new place and mom was all over him "you need anything? Clothes hangers? Hampers? Dishes? What can we get you? " my older brother lives a state away and when he visits they make a big deal of it. We gotta plan gotta clean the house. She actually demanded i go to their house (i live 3 or so blocks away from mom and dad) and clean it up for them. Thats fine but she was dremanding i drop everything. My dad pointed out they never make this big of a fuss for me when i come over. I pointed out we know who is the fave. Theres more instances of this but i wont bore anyone who has made it this far if anyone has. Thing is i cant just cut her out of my life. My anxiety wont let me and despite all the bullshit she does still act like a proper mom sometimes. And i dont want to cut my dad out of my life because hes always been an important person in my life. Its not just my mom though. I was informed im hated by most of my co workers. Its prob because im pretty strict about guidelines and getting stuff done. I have no sympathy for the co workers who whine about being cold in our store when they would be just fine if they did more than stand around snapchatting and facebooking while im running power walking from one side of the store basically working circles around then sometimes almost literally. In the end i just want to sleep and not have to worry about all this bulls**t. I want to not have to brace myself against being called a bi**h when my mom talks to me. Im sick of trying to communicate with people only to have them verbally throw their hands up and dismiss me. If anyone made it through this kudos. Im not asking for pity or anything like that. Im ranting and catalogging feelings about what im going through.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. ok but I love Rachel spent the latter half of 2021 being like ooooh Kronos is coming back!! this is a big deal!! only to timeskip ten years and NOTHING happened. like wow even Kronos isn't a big deal when it comes to how totally not pathetic Persephone is as a 30+ year old doing no work and only being obsessed with a guy she knew for a month. literal masterclass in awful writing. It's almost impressive how bad it is.

2. Deadass I don't even get why RS is like oh yeh nymphs and other creatures should be second class citizens but they're also all "trash" and thus its good and even encouraged to abuse and mistreat them. like yeah that's what was missing, racism where the marginalized group are evil and "deserve" to be abused and mistreated by those with all the power over them. THAT's what mythology was so sorely missing.  jfc. I know a lot of the WT staff are white people and so is Rachel but wtf???

3. It's quite funny how a woman old enough to be my mother cannot draw or write worth shit and there are literal teenagers on this website who are a thousand times the artist and writer she could ever hope to be.

4. This isn’t me trying to be mean but like, why is everything from the book covers to the official merch so ,.. cheap looking? Like these are supposed professionals, not Rachel, doing it, yet they’re still so poorly designed and crafted. It doesn’t help the images Rachel gives time to work with are all in the rushed, ugly style now either 😪

5. I just find it funny that every time an LO fan or even WT promotes it its like ... they ONLY use art from the first 10-ish episodes at best. Like yall, that was over four years ago, why aren't you using current art to be more accurate? Like it's kinda telling on themselves they know the quality declined rapidly after the first few months but are like "just ignore that! look at this three good panels from 2018!"

6. I HATE those panels where RS tries to be anatomically correct to IRL humans and its like omg they look even worse (and are still wildly wrong anyway?? She cannot draw heads to save her life for real). Like lady just work within your stylization, there's a reason people picked up your work off what it used to be versus what it is now.

7. this isnt necessarily LO based but I do find it crazy how people like RS and her fans viewed the original hymn like ugh Demeter is such a bitch why wouldnt she be happy Hades married her daughter like .... you guys are aware ancient brides tended to be married at 14, right? maybe that's why Demeter was pissed and creeped out by him. They're so blinded by their fantasy of this "perfect Hades" that never existed over the truth of a mother defending her literal CHILD.

8. Zeus is objectively the only hot man on cast because he actually has a personality, fashion sense, and pretty hair meanwhile Hades just looks like a dusty old man with zero drip and a million and one red flags 🫣

9. "This style of story telling" what style? just lying and making everything up to where it matches nothing in mythology? my god, she's so concerned over looking like a clever writer who has everything planned out and knows more than anyone else (including actual greeks??? ma'am) over actually telling a decent story. ive never seen someone so self conscious about being perceived as a "real writer" before.

10. Why even use mythology when you won't keep any of the stories true to how they were, change all the relationships, and just make up whatever else instead? At that point just go "this was inspired by the greek myths" and use your own OCs, not claiming you're telling an accurate story with a ton of research put into it. Rachel really just wants to have her cake and eat it too, huh?

[kookingtae]

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

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

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

[fillyoursoulxx]

Just like that he felt like that idiotic kid again, waiting on...what? Rejection? Yeah. Cause that how it always seemed to go with her. Which fine. He was a dumb kid then. He hadn’t blamed her, but this...this was different wasn’t it? He put effort in, real effort, even if his first instinct was to play it all off as chill. Low key. It wasn’t. He had taken a shot, not as a horny teenage boy but as an impassioned young adult. His insides were in knots as she spoke and it was a feeling he absolutely detested. Cause there was no one else he felt this way with, no other woman he felt invested enough in to truly care how they perceived him or felt about him. 

It was nauseating and there was a tiny microscopic part of him that did hope that this explanation, this ‘Ive-been-hurt-before’ spiel would end in her gently refusing him one last time.Because if that happened? He could stop. He could move on saying he’d truly given it his all and it wasn’t enough but hey, maybe it was for the best. It’d suck. Likely the second biggest let down of his young life. But that was just that, wasn’t it? He was young and sure she’d be missing out on the single greatest man on the planet, but that was her choice and he’d make some other woman happy. Eventually.

Still, he owed it to himself, just as much as he did her, to take things serious now. To focus in on what she was actually trying to say and not jump ahead to the end, no matter how often the pattern seemed to repeat. He nodded, understanding the nerves and that well-- he wasn’t some rando dude. He’d heard about Dallas and Max grilling her when Stella shattered his fucking heart. He’d barely put the thing back together and even then, he was pretty positive they’re always be shards missing but that showed how fragile even something like this could be which only made him shift a scoop up a little bottle of whiskey from the cooler. He opened it, taking a sip and nearly fucking choked, inhaling the liquid sharply as she relented. Louis coughed, the alcohol searing all sorts of spots it shouldn’t have, making his eyes water as he fought to swallow or whatever the fuck it’d take to regain composure. “Probably would’ve been a lot less embarrassing if I actually was crying for joy right now,” he managed to say, voice cracking as he grabbed a bottle of water and down a drink, “Like fuck my life, is there like-- anyway i can get you to say all that again? Take two?”

Louis chuckled, his usual ochre cheeks holding a much warmer tone as he looked at her. If she asked, or more likely teased, he’d swear it was because he’d almost died but honestly? He was just fucking thrilled. So much so he leaned in, a hand coming to her cheek. There was a small gap between them, just enough that he could still make eye contact as he spoke, “Then we won’t just ‘jump in’. I think I’ve proved I can be pretty fucking patient, but...we’ll start slow. One kiss. One. Just to show you again, just how serious I am about all of this. Then we can go back to our super low key, chance confirming non-date, yeah?” His heart was in his ears, resisting the urge to do the damn thing. But he waited, bent on proving his point.

Peeling the paper away from the plastic water bottle, needing something for her fingers to do, she waited for his answer, mentally going back and forth about whether she was going to get a serious response or not. Because the thing about him, she was finding out, was he was a little unpredictable. And this was more than the crazy and rambunctious preteen he had been once upon a time. Just like tonight, she had half-thought he'd take her out to some restaurant that neither would really remember before attempting to mount the conquest that was his older sister's best friend (literally and figuratively). And as she got ready for the night, part of her thought she'd let him because why not. Scratch the itch then the two of them would return to whatever normalcy they had been between them before tonight.

But like the picnic, the sandwiches, the music, all of it was catching her off guard, his answer doing the same. Ready to accept the I don't know, her mouth opened to speak until he kept going and she shut it again. Her smile softened when he said he liked her, and her cheeks blushed slightly when he admitted what they both knew. But then her brows furrowed as he began to talk about a cat - was she the cat? - and she nodded as she followed. Part of Eva thought she understood where he was going and laughed along with him when he stopped. "Is this the point where you say instead of giving you cooties, I'm now going to give you rabies?" she teased with a grin, gently pushing against his shoulder, mainly saying that to let him know that it was okay. She got it. In a way, she saw how he saw her: independent, a little out of reach, and he definitely needed to give her treats to pet her.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she nodded. "This," she motioned between the space between them, "isn't just something either one of us can jump in to. There's too much history, too much everything." She sighed. Nagging at the back of her mind are his siblings, because even though this was a not-date and she didn't even know if she'd kiss him when the night ended, they'd still freak out if they knew. It was like a weight on her shoulders, hindering her just slightly from fully enjoying everything. But she pushed the thought of them away, wanting to really focus on him. He had laid it all out there for her that it was only fair that she do the same and give him her full attention. "Knowing the good and the bad, huh?"

Sighing, she leans sideways against the truck, chin resting on the cool metal. "You threw me for a loop, Louis Beaumont. I totally thought you weren't going to take any of this seriously and here you are, being a softie and making sense and shit." She laughed. "Look, I'm gonna be really honest with you: it's been a long time since I've gotten close to a guy and the last time it did happen, it didn't go great." She didn't doubt he had heard rumblings from his sisters and didn't feel it was necessary to really go in to too much detail. "And I'm not saying this is even going to be a relationship or anything but ... I get nervous. Even with you." Especially with him because it felt like there was so much more riding on this. If a relationship went bad with a guy, she could ghost them easily and never think about them again. Her life was intertwined with his in a special way and she didn't want to sever all ties should things sour between them. "But I do want to say I'll give it a chance; give you a chance. To get to know me more than what you think you do now." She gave him a small smile. "And maybe I'll let you take me on a real date next time," she said teasingly as she shot him a wink. "Let you really wine and dine me." It felt weird to give in, to really give him a chance but just as he was curious, so was she. He had said and done enough to let her know that he was serious about this and she'd be lying if if she said she wasn't the least bit interested to know where exactly this could go.

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

*************************************************

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

*******************************************************

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

************************************************************

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

[amor-immortalem]

I Think I'm OKAY

genre: Angst, hurt comfort

length: two parter

warning(s): Feelings of abandonment, self-depreciating thoughts, suicidal thoughts (briefly), feelings of not being good enough, feelings of being unneeded and unloved

A/N: its just been a day guys. And Ive been think about this all day so I just wrote to get tge thoughs out of my head.

this takes place a few months after the epilogue of Everything Undesired where Azalea is still coming to grips with the fact that she's not her father's heir like she always thought she had been. Mammon and Arella really did try to make time for her but things just never worked out in their favor and it ended up giving their daughter abandonment issues.

She’s lost. Not physically but mentally- Azalea doesn’t know where to go or what her purpose is. Ever since her older brother returned from where ever the hell he’s been her whole life, she’s felt more alone than ever before. From her parents being busier than ever helping Cyrus readjust to life here in the Devildom to her twin brother being curious enough about their new older brother to spend all his time trying to get to know him, no one has time for Azalea any more.

Whenever she tries to reach out to either her parents or her brother she gets blown off. It’s always ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t make it.’ or ‘I’m sorry, I forgot that was today.’ Forgot? How does one just forget about their child? And Azalea is sorry too. She’s sorry for existing. Maybe everyone is just tired of her. Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? After all, she was just her father’s back up plan. A back up plan. Yeah, it sounded as bad as it hurt- to think that’s the only reason he kept her around all this time. Despite how she might try, all she could ever do is fuck up. Why would her parents ever need a child like that?

She feels abandoned, unneeded. All she ever wanted was to make them proud- she pushed herself to maintain the perfect grades just for their praise. Hell, she’d even forced herself to take advanced placement and honors courses just for their approval but they hadn’t even noticed. And it’s not like she hadn’t tried to show them. The last report card she got in her last year of middle school had a note attached to it stating that when she entered RAD, she’d be welcomed into the advanced courses but of course they had been too busy to even look. Both of her parents assumed nothing had changed so they just didn’t need to see something they had seen hundreds of times already.

Why did they stop loving me? The half-demon thinks to herself, Was it all the fights? Was I not good enough for them? I wish I could make them happy the way my brothers do. I wish I was perfect like them, maybe then they wouldn’t have forgotten about me. Maybe I would still belong. What did I do wrong? Azalea can feel the tears dripping down her face. I’m crying? Again? Pathetic. People like me don’t cry.

She hurriedly wipes them away as she looks up at the stars that dot the night sky of the Devildom. She’s pretty high up on a rooftop. She wonders if a fall from this height might kill her or would it just leave her badly injured- the idea’s tempting. She’d come up here to clear her mind and sort out her feelings with how things had changed- how everything she thought she was meant to be had been ripped away from her, but it had just made things worse. She thought she was okay with all this change but after trying for months to find something new to do with the rest of forever, she found out the only thing she was ever any good at was getting into fights. Sure, she’d taken up sports on her uncle Beel’s suggestion but that led to even more pain when time after time, neither of her parents could be bothered show up.

Her phone lights up with a text from her father.

Dad:

Why weren’t ya at dinner today?

Azalea:

Why weren’t you and Mum at my meet today? Ya know like you promised ya would be?

Dad:

‘Zay c’mon don’t be like that. We said we were sorry but something important came up and we couldn’t make it

Azalea:

Sure whatever you say old man

Its what you always say

It's always something more important ain’t it?

Something more important than me.

Dad:

Azalea

Azalea:

Shove it old man. I don’t wanna hear it right now.

She always gets the short end of the stick. For parents that claim they care about her, they sure had a shitty way of showing it. As the family’s resident trouble maker, she’s not good enough for them. Whatever, she doesn’t even need them anyway. She deserves better than a family that doesn’t care. A family she no longer has a place in. And that was fine by her. Now that she’d finally admitted it to herself, she found it would be easier to ignore her entire family and live life depending on only herself.

With a shuddering huff, the girl shuts her D.D.D off and shoves it in her jacket pocket. She leaves the roof top, still in tears headed for the House of Lamentation.

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

“Arella, I have to go and find our daughter.” Mammon sighs as he gets his jacket on.

“She’s still upset about the track meet, isn’t she?” The black-haired human frowns “If you’ll give me a moment, I can ask Aurelius if he’ll watch Mahlon and I’ll go with you. This is something we should address together.”

“I don’t think we got the time to waste, Hon. She stopped respondin’ ta my texts and isn’t answerin’ her phone. If I don’t go now, she might so something to herself. I’ll be able to cover more ground quicker if I fly since she could be anywhere- even up high where we wouldn’t be able to see her that easily.”

“Then go on, I’ll talk to her when she gets home.” Arella nods as her husband leaves.

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

She enters her room through the garage door entrance. She really didn’t need to considering Azalea was the only one home currently. She knew Aurelius and Zulima would be gone for the rest of the weekend but still she locked her door to prevent any unwanted visitors- mainly her parents as she knew they’d probably come looking for her after the message she’d sent to her father earlier.

She looked over at the stack of unopened akuzon boxes- all gifts sent to her by her parents as ‘apologies’ for various things. Yeah sure, gifts were nice when they were for things like birthdays or Christmas but not when they were used as a way to placate her feelings when her parents missed things like track meets or science fairs or school functions that they promised they would be there for. It felt like a shallow apology so Azalea never opened any of them. They were starting to collect dust now.

Just because greed is her sin doesn’t mean its satisfied by material objects alone. There was more to it than that. Her sin specifically manifests with being greedy for healthy interpersonal relationships- things like money or material objects only did the bare minimum to help keep it under control and satisfied. She wanted her parents’ attention and only that so when they failed to keep their promises, it hurts her deeper than either of them understands- Azalea doesn’t even have the words to describe how it hurts her.

As she plops down on her sectional and flips on the projection of stars and constellations from the human world to calm herself down, she thinks about the way her greed is eating her alive as she turns on some music- a song her friend from the human world showed her called ‘I Think I’m Okay’. It was a song she really related to for some reason. As the song plays on loop, she thinks about how when she was younger- before her youngest brother was born- she was always of healthy weight and body condition. Nowadays with the lack of ability to satisfy her sin, she was just skin and bone. Despite eating constantly, she always feels like she’s starving and she’d be lucky if she weighed in at 90 pounds soaking wet- all of it coming from the weight of her bones and muscle. Her body is just burning through everything too fast and at this point Azalea doesn’t know whether or not she even has the energy to waste to transform into her demon form anymore.

The half-demon hears a faint knock at the door. Maybe if she doesn’t answer then whoever it is will get the hint and go away. As she watches the door open, a scowl appears on her face. Of course her father would pick the lock on her door. She doesn’t know why she’s even surprised right now. He never knows when to leave well enough alone.

“We need to talk...” Mammon says as he sits down on the couch next to her.

“I don’t wanna. Get lost.” the teenager rolls on to her side away from her father.

“Too bad. I’m not leavin’ until we do.”

“Then prepare ta die in here cuz I refuse.” She can’t let him fool her into accepting his apology when she knows full well he doesn’t mean it.

“You really are just like your ma sometimes- stubborn as all get out.” He sighs. “I see ya never opened yer packages. Why?”

She continued to ignore him. How can she get out of this? Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could fool him into thinking she was asleep.

Just get frustrated and leave already. It’s what ya always do when I won’t talk to ya.

She waits an hour, two, three but still he doesn’t leave.

Man is this getting annoying! Why won’t he just give up and go home already?

“Well, since ya won’t talk, I will. Ya know, Mom and I really are sorry we couldn’t be there this afternoon... I know you’re upset about it but we got called to an emergency meeting at the castle and we... kinda... forgot what time it was by time we were done.  I know we don’t have a lot of time to spend with ya anymore but things are just so crazy right now... it’s difficult and when ya act like a brat like this it doesn’t make things any easier.” And Mammon realizes too late that he’s said the wrong thing and put his foot in his mouth.

“Right... cuz that’s all I am is a spoiled brat...” Azalea can’t help the way her voice quakes. “I’m a brat because I asked for you and mum to pay attention to me over the boys just this once and you two let me down and now, I’m getting blamed for being as upset as I am. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Azalea, that’s not what I meant and you know that,” Mammon places his hand on her shoulder to turn her over and is shocked when all he feels is bone and muscles that are beginning to atrophy. “What are you doing to yourself? Yer nothin’ but skin an’ bone, Baby.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE WHOSE DOING THIS TO ME!” she roars as she hops up from the couch. “IT’S YOU TWO. YOU’RE THE ONES DOING THIS TO ME!” and then her voice suddenly drops. “But you would notice that if you spent more than five seconds with me. My greed is eating me alive and it’s your fault. I’ve tried for months to get you or Mum to spend time with me and I get forgotten about every time because something ‘more important’ comes up or you also make plans with Aurelius or Cyrus and choose to do that over spending time with me. It’s either that or you both choose Mahlon over me and it’s literally killing me. I get that they all need you guys too and I’m not more important than them but it feels like they’re more important to you than me. And I hate it because...” She lets out a sob as she sinks to her knees, “Because you two are the most important people to me.”

Mammon looks at his daughter with a horrified look on his face. His only daughter feels like she’s not important to them but she was right in a way. Both he and Arella had been choosing her brothers over her- not intentionally but he can see why she would come to that conclusion. This was a very crucial time in her life having had everything she thought she was taken away and she was lost with no clue where to go. He and her mother should have been right by her side, helping her find a new path in life this whole time but instead they got so wrapped up in work and other things that now their daughter was suffering the consequences.

“No, baby that’s not true.” The demon says as he wraps his little girl up in his arms. “You are so important to us too.” He rubs her back as he rocks her back and forth, “We love you so much and I’m so sorry we haven’t made ya feel like that. We’re gonna do better from now on. I promise, okay?”

Azalea is hesitant to nod. How many times had she heard the word promise and then had that promise broken but even now as she’s wrapped up in her father’s arms, she’s starting to feel the overwhelming weight of her sin slowly start to go away. She just rests her head against his chest as her puffy teary blue to gold eyes start to slip closed ever so slowly.

���Sweet dreams, Princess.” He says as he runs he hand through her hair and places a kiss to the top of her head.

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

Find more on my masterlist