#this bitch never smiles she’s constantly distressed and depressed

[kavalyera]

vivienne doodles :3

[blush-and-books]

i’m sorry, but i fell in love tonight

short fic based off of this gifset by @juliesmolinas and the song is there somewhere by halsey. in fact it is mandatory that you listen to the song/read the lyrics/both before/during reading this. yes i said mandatory.

angst with a sappy ending, julie goes through a lifetime of emotions in less than 3k, was originally gonna write when i was in a more emotionally raw state but writing this made me emotionally raw so... enjoy <3

warnings: swearing

Julie made the promise at some point -- she just doesn’t know exactly when.

It may have been when he appeared at her school, all shy smiles and soft glances, professing that she made him a better writer. Or, more definitively, it could have been when she forlornly pulled him into her arms a moment before she was positive that she was to lose him forever. 

All that she knew was her time with Luke was fleeting. So she swore that her butterfly-wing crush was not allowed to fill her chest or dizzy her thoughts; that his lyrics would mean nothing more next to hers than words on a page and his touches would bring her little to no comfort.

Luke Patterson could not complete her. 

The universe wouldn’t allow it -- and neither would Julie Molina. 

But -- either Luke was blissfully unaware of their impending doom or he genuinely didn’t care -- he forced himself through every barrier she attempted to erect. And it was driving her nearly insane, because she made a promise to protect herself. 

Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Or maybe the universe, despite refusing to give Julie Luke in his entirety, did not want her to be protected. 

It was all in the little things-

When she stayed up with him in the garage, playing him all of the songs he’s missed in 25 years, and he danced around on the slippery floor in his socks and grinned at her with wide green eyes. The neon emerald in the dim light was reminiscent of driving on the highway and passing sign after sign leading to the exits she could have taken, but couldn’t bring herself to.

How New Years Eve arrived and the Molina family gathered in the driveway to light sparklers; Luke’s hand brushing hers as he passed off one of the two in his hands. 

In his head lulling onto her shoulder while she was trying to finish some homework with his help on the torn couch and his lips moving against her bare skin  as he mumbled that she needed to take a break before driving herself insane; followed by her braiding her hair to get it out of her face.

She already had driven herself insane -- but not over her homework. 

(His mouth on her shoulder was the answer to a prayer she never dared to murmur aloud.)

Luke never failed to be present when he was needed. If she was sick or stressed or depressed, he knew when to fuse to her side and when to offer some space. Through careful observation rather than conversation, he knew which of her many sweatshirts were reserved for illness or emotional support. 

In most of those situations, she needed him, too. Her fingernails would curl into his biceps through a cramp or wave of tears and he would wrap her in his embrace and swarm her with warm words that dried her eyes.

She hated it.

When they wrote music, it felt as though they were already reading each other's minds before either of them had spoken a word about their plans. Their journals contained inky black waterfalls spilled from an intimacy that Julie did not want to dissect. 

Again, she hated it. She loved it more than anything and hated that she loved it all -- because it could never be real. 

She would always play second fiddle to death. 

Julie made the promise to herself to not let Luke complete her because, while she had him for now, the night of the Orpheum was a reminder that the universe would not hesitate to snap it’s fingers and eliminate him from existence. 

The universe, being the confusing, stubborn bitch it is, just didn’t get the memo on that promise. 

Because Luke filled every crack and restored every gap in her being, and he shouldn’t.

The hopeless, pining romantic in her that constantly argued with her realist side said they were meant to meet. Even if it was brief and heartbreaking and had the power to hurt her in a way she didn’t understand, it had to happen. If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then how and why did he cross space and time only to fall at her feet?

(Soulmates, a taunting voice whispered. Soulmates.)

((The voice was locked in a closet as punishment.))

She didn’t want to entertain the word. It had too much of a forlorn, wistfully romantic sound to it that Julie didn’t need to associate with Luke when she spent most moments with him at this point convincing herself that she wasn’t in love.

Until tonight.

It is past midnight, which is when anyone’s mental state starts to alter. Things that would be labelled as bad ideas in the daylight could very possibly become fair game when shrouded in a darkness that made everything private. The two of them, Luke and Julie, Julie and Luke, are nestled together on the piano bench as her fingers tiredly press each cut of ivory in a working melody.

“I have an idea,” Luke says, gently shifting his left hand to cover hers on the keys. “Why don’t we press pause on this song for a minute?”

Then, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes probably have crescents like the dark side of the moon crossing her skin, and her hair is all over the place, but he’s staring at her in one of the rare ways that she hates.

She hates it because the look convinces her that she completes him.

This time, however, there’s a hope. A hope, and a hesitance, and she’s simultaneously extremely nervous and beyond curious as to what his plans are. 

“Did- Didn’t you want to finish this tonight?” 

Regret strikes across his face, but he recovers. The softness is back. “Yeah, I just think we need a change of pace.” Right hand on the back of his neck: A telltale sign of a confession of some kind. She’s seen it more times than is healthy. “There was another song I wanted to show you, actually.”

“Oh.” She blinks, he waits. “Yeah, uh, I mean, yeah. Show me. What do you have so far?” He clears his throat as he thrums through the pages to find his target. “The whole thing.”

Julie doesn’t have time to react -- although she’s already in a panic -- before the leather-bound book is being awkwardly shoved into her hands, and the first thing she sees at the top is Luke’s nearly illegible scribble of Dark Room (song for Julie).

“Luke-”

“Just read it.” His voice is significantly raspier than it was a minute ago. “Please.”

She can’t. If he feels the same way and the confession is undeniably in front of her, then what is she supposed to do? Would she rather break Luke’s heart now to save them both down the line, or delay the misery a little longer?

It’s not that she doesn’t want it -- she does. But she doesn’t know if she’s emotionally equipped for any of the options that are offered to her. The destination of any path she chooses leads to a world of heartache.

So, she does the only thing she can think in the moment: She reads the song.

Instantly, the lyrics are blurred from the tears in her eyes because she sees the words “love” and “together” and her greatest fears and grandest wishes are coming true. The sonnet proclaims that she’s his light that illuminated his once-dark forever, and that he was hers when they didn’t even know each other, and that he will be hers wherever he ends up next.

He just wanted her to know that he would have waited another lifetime in the blank, limitless limbo he was in for 25 years if he knew she would be there when he was set free.

And, in the moment, Julie allows herself to acknowledge that her promise is broken.

She’s fallen in love. 

And, apparently, he has too.

(Maybe they can claim just one night. The universe owes them that much, doesn’t it?)

“Julie?” God, he sounds so worried. A shaking finger trails up her jaw to catch falling tears, and his contact makes her gasp. He pulls away and shoves his hands together to fidget in his lap. “Julie, are you- Fuck, I’m sorry, I just fucked this up, didn’t I? I fucked it all up. Fuck, I-”

When she chances a look up at him for the first time in the couple of minutes that she’s been staring, hopelessly, at the song in her lap -- he’s got his face covered by his hands pressing roughly into his eyes, and he’s turned to face the piano instead of her.

He takes a deep breath, and it sounds… 

Stuffy. 

Three more tears leak from Julie’s eyes. More build up every minute as her right hand runs along his shoulder, “Luke…”

“No, Julie, please just drop it.”

“Luke.”

“I clearly misread a lot of stuff, and I’m tired, so maybe you can just go to bed and forget-”

Her hand wraps tightly around his upper arm like it’s done so many times when she has been in distress. “Luke.”

There’s a crack in her voice from sheer desperation. She needs him to look at her, so that she can wipe his tears and smile through the sobs and tell him he didn’t misread a single thing. She would wait a lifetime for him to come out of the dark room, she loves him too, and she’s going to forget all about it. 

And ask him to do the same.

At least the scratch of his name catches his attention long enough, because he angles back towards her, and swallows thickly before meeting her eyes. Salty teardrops linger against his eyelids and eyelashes; the red rimming illuminating the oceanic green to look like a gemstone. Her grip relaxes.

“Yeah, Julie?”

She attempts a smile. “The song is beautiful, Luke. I love it.”

I love you.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful, and you love it, but you don’t… I’m not in your dreambox, huh?”

He clearly hasn’t dug through it in awhile. He’s everywhere. Discarded guitar picks and notes he’s left in her school journals and plenty, plenty of songs.

It’s funny, because she told him her dreambox was for things that didn’t make her sad. Luke was a double-edged sword -- making her happy every day in a new way, and making her cry into her pillow at night.

How does she explain this? There’s a whirlwind of responses running through her brain and she can barely coherently comprehend any of them. 

“No,” she finds herself sighing as she raises her hand to his cheek, followed by her other hand so that he can’t try and turn away. “No, Luke, no… You’re wrong.”

“What do you mean ‘I’m wrong?’”

Her bottom lip starts to shake. “You think I don’t love you back.”  Both of them feel their breath catch at her use of the word out loud. It feels like a secret that shouldn’t be repeated. “And you’re wrong.”

“... I’m wrong.”

“Of course you’re wrong! You really think I don’t love you back?”

“Why are you crying if you love me?”

“Because we can’t do this!”

He scoffs, and Julie’s heart is racing in her chest as he pushes himself off of the piano bench and her hands fall from his face. What has she done?

“That’s bull, Julie.” His fingertips tug at his hair. “You don’t need to make a big dramatic show to convince me it’s wrong just to let me down easy. You aren’t going to talk me out of this.” Dead-on, he stops pacing back and forth, and looks her in the eye. “I love you.”

Listening to him say it, the way his mouth moves and his voice ticks with conviction at each syllable, is what makes her break. 

“And I love you too.” 

He reels back. He probably wasn’t expecting her voice to raise from their odd, in-between whisper and normal volume.

“But don’t you get it? Luke, we aren't in some magical place where we can meet each other in the middle. A place like that doesn’t exist. You’re dead, and I’m alive, and any future here ends with both of us losing each other.” 

“Julie-”

“You said you would wait another lifetime, right?” Using his own lyrics against him. She watches his hands twitch before nodding; the movements of his head barely visible. “Then wait. Another lifetime, another two -- the fucking universe clearly didn’t want us to have this one, so we’re stuck waiting for the next one.”

Even through his clear and fighting need to argue, to talk with her about this, he stiffly nods his head. It’s obvious that she has thought way too much about this from the way she’s barely choking out each word before crumbling into tears before his eyes -- but then again, he’s thought about it too. 

Callused hands are running along her neck to tilt her face up out of the blue. She was too busy crying to notice that he had crossed the distance between them to stand right in front of her and assure that she was meeting his eyes.

“Luke-”

“No, Julie, it’s my turn. Please.”

She won’t argue with him. So, with a tender swipe of his thumbs under her eyes, he proceeds.

“Look, I get it. You think I don’t get it? I fucking hate being dead, for so many reasons, Julie. But if I never died, I never would have met you.” Her lips part, and maybe he thinks she’s going to protest because he smoothly lifts a finger in front of her lips that barely makes contact. 

(Julie almost presses her lips into it.)

“And you’re right. I wish there was somewhere that we could meet in the middle, but we don’t have that. I wish so many things, Julie. But none of them involve a life where I don’t have you.”

She whimpers, because listening to the man that normally chains his emotions in a cage bare his soul to her at nearly one in the morning is a seriously more out-of-body experience than she expected. She knew, deep down, that she loved him. But she never allowed herself to feel the all-encompassing warmth that she feels now.

“But hey, Julie, look at me,” he coaxes her with a tone that drips with affection. The pads of his fingers are nearly kneading into the back of her neck. “Like you said: The universe didn’t want to give us this lifetime. They couldn’t let us have all the fun, right?” Both of them let out a watery chuckle. “But they still brought me to you, didn’t they? They let me know you in this lifetime, even if we couldn’t have forever. I said I would be yours wherever I am. So even if this,” he gestures to his ghostly form, “isn’t forever, even if we don’t have this lifetime… You know I’ll love you forever, right?”

It was a monologue straight from one of her dreams that left her waking up with a manic smile and tears running down her face. 

Unable to form any other response besides an unaware nod, Julie waits for him to continue.

“And maybe, the universe will give us the next lifetime, or a whole new universe, or… Just somewhere where we can get forever.” 

Abruptly, his hands slide from her neck and grasp her hands like he needs to hold on firmly enough to believe that she’s still real in front of him. Julie is still speechless and teary, and in the most sentimental gesture, Luke kisses the back of both of her hands. 

“We’ll get forever, Julie.” His warm breath puffs against her skin. “I promise you.”

And, well, if he promises forever in the next life -- then why can’t she take what she can get in this one?

--

tags: @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @lydias--stiles @moreflowersthanweeds @pink-flame 

[waywardrose13]

Deliverance From Evil

Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 11,054

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.

Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.

Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.

A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!

Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo​ (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo​ (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo​ (Soulmates AU)

U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline:  800.656.4673

U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233

The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.

I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me. 

Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt. 

I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.

It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh. 

I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school. 

I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.

Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.

“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”

I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny. 

After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this. 

“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”

“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.” 

It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.

When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.

So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…

“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”

“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.

“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.

“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”

I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side. 

“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said. 

“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”

I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.

“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.

“The adults are talking,” Dean said. 

“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”

I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”

“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”

“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”

I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”

Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.

“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge. 

He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat. 

“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.” 

I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.

“It would put us all out of our misery.”

“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet. 

“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?” 

“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”

In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.

“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”

“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.

“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”

Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.

“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.

Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.

“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.

***

The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.

I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.

I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.

“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”

His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.

I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”

“I… huh?”

“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’” 

How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”

He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.

***

I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water. 

It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.

I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.

Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.

“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket. 

“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”

I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one. 

“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit. 

“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.

“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in. 

“Dean, please, I don’t-”

“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”

“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.

“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”

“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.

“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”

He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”

I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin. 

Until now.

I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.

I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”

“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans. 

“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped. 

His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”

I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.

“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”

He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.

“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly. 

He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I knew you’d like this,” he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”

The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream. 

But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.

“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.

His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.

“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me. 

He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”

I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”

I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.

He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.

In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.

Two Years Later

The nightmares never faded.

They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.

Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.

Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close. 

Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went. 

Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back. 

Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt. 

Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.

It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.

I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.

I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him. 

I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun. 

Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.

“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”

I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.

“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”

“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”

“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”

“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”

“Why?” He demanded.

“Just let her be, Sam.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.

“Y/N!” 

I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.

“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”

I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.

“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”

“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.

“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?” 

I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”

I nodded.

“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won’t be coming, don’t worry.”

The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.

It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.

***

I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found. 

I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.

I froze. 

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.

“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”

I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”

“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”

Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”

“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”

I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”

He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.

I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.

“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.

“Miss me?”

“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”

I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”

My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”

He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”

He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.

“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”

He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold. 

I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.

“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”

“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”

I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.

I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.

He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”

He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”

His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.

“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing. 

“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side. 

“Y/n!”

That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.

“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.

***

“Should she be asleep this long?”

“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”

***

“Get the fuck out.”

“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”

***

“She will stay with me.”

“And you are?”

“Her brother.”

***

I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.

My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice. 

“Sam.”

“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him.

“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”

I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.

“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”

I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

“My therapist,” I replied.

“A therapist?”

“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”

“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.

“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.

“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.

“Sore,” I replied.

“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”

She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.

***

“Are you alright?”

Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.

“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”

“Y/n, I’m so-”

“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”

“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.

“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”

Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”

I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…

No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”

Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.

I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend. 

However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.

Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him. 

Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel? 

A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. 

Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.

“Cas.”

“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.

“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face. 

“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”

“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.

“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”

“A curse in heaven?” I asked.

“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”

“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”

“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”

“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.

“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”

Holy fuck.

“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”

“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.

“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.

“Dean.”

***

“Are you fucking joking?”

I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”

“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.

“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”

My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.

“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”

“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”

“Fuck that.”

“I can’t.”

Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.

“Cas, not now.”

“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”

“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”

“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered. 

“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.

“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”

“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.

“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”

Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.

***

“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”

“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”

“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”

“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”

“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”

“It wasn’t you!”

“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”

“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”

“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”

I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.

With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”

“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”

I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.

He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied lowly. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”

“Is he?” I asked bitterly. 

“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”

I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”

That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”

“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”

I flinched and his face softened. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”

He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.

“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.

I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.” 

“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.

“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”

“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”

“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”

He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”

We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”

I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”

“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”

Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”

I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”

Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.

“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.

Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that. 

And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands. 

So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.

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[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers part 7 (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

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

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @cloud9in @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @clowneryme (if you wanna be added on let me know) 

word count: 5.2k (my longest chapter yet) 

if there’s any mistakes i’ll fix it later bc its like 5am here 

part 1: part 2: part 3: part 4: part 5: part 6: 

Birthday Bash 

“Bea.” 

Poppy stares at the brunette, wide-eyed, her knuckles turning white as she firmly grips on the doorknob, but she doesn’t let go. She definitely wasn’t planning on seeing her girlfriend tonight, and judging by the haunted expression on Bea’s face, neither was she. 

“Hey,” is all Bea can squeak out, lips slightly quivering, her eyes a bloodshot red as if she’s been crying for days. Poppy quickly peaks her head out of the doorway, analysing her surroundings, looking for any traces of anyone's presence before clutching onto Bea’s arm and dragging her into the foyer.

“What happened?” Poppy’s voice is soft, timid, her brows furrowed as she takes in Bea’s demeanour. As the lights shine on Bea, Poppy can see her girlfriend’s features more clearly, her cheeks glisten with dried tear stains, while her hair looks like a bush, most likely from Bea running her hand through hair constantly, a habit she does when she’s upset or angry. 

As if right on cue, Bea runs a hand through her hair, her expression distressed.“ Is it safe to talk here?” Bea’s tone’s insecure as she gazes into the strawberry blonde’s eyes for the first time tonight, and Poppy notices the sad glint in her eyes. It takes all of Poppy’s strength to not break down in tears just by looking at her girlfriend. 

Poppy clears her throat, blinking away the tears, “uh yeah, my dad’s not home. Come let’s go to my room.” Poppy contemplates holding Bea’s hand as she sees it fitted closely to the brunette’s side, but reminds herself how volatile things are between her and Bea so she walks ahead of Bea and not looking behind her until she reaches her room. She opens the door and lets Bea into the room, making a beeline for her bed, sitting at the edge while Bea hovers near the door frame, nervously fidgeting as if it’s her first time in the strawberry blonde’s room, her eyes wearily glancing around the room. 

“You can sit if you want” Poppy pats the space near her and Bea gives her a small smile as Bea gives a small nod of appreciation and meanders over to her bed and settles down, leaving a wide gap between herself and Poppy. As the girls look over at each other, familiarity slowly begins to wash over them as the memories that they spent together in the room come flooding into their minds; the late nights, the sneaking out, the kisses, the cuddles, the I love yous. It wasn’t that long ago where the girls were lying down in Poppy’s bed together discussing their future and senior year, but now as they’re in the same space everything has changed, and deep down inside they both know that. 

Poppy gives Bea a warm smile, her eyes full of affection as she waits patiently for her girlfriend to speak first. Poppy knows firsthand to be submissive when Bea is in a mood, otherwise Bea will just close off and the girls won’t make any progress. After some deliberation, she tentatively reaches out, her hand slowly clasping around Bea’s, giving it a squeeze, a small gesture to reassure her girlfriend that she’s willing to wait. Bea smiles internally at Poppy’s action, but after the dispute between herself and her mother, it has been on a constant replay in her head, almost like a never ending nightmare which she can’t wake herself up from. The girls continue to sit in the silence as Bea tries to gain her bearings, her mind going a million miles a minute, but Bea fights against the flight instinct she has become accustomed to over the last couple of months taking a deep slowing breath before opening her mouth to speak. 

“Thank you for letting me in.” 

Poppy frowns, “you’re my girlfriend Bea, I would never turn you away.” 

Bea glances down at the floor, “so why didn’t you want me at the hospital? Or why haven’t you answered my calls? Texts?” A guilty expression flashes across Poppy’s face, as she stutters, struggling to come up with a valid reason, instead she clamps her mouth shut, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Bea reaches out to take Poppy’s cast in both of her hands, her soft fingers delicately brushing against the rough plaster, a solemn look on her face. “When you fell I-” she abruptly cuts herself off as hot tears begin to stream down her face, she shifts her gaze away from Poppy, in an attempt to hide her face. 

Poppy reaches out, cupping Bea’s face in her hands, her thumbs swiping the tears as she places her forehead against the brunettes, speaking softly against her lips, “Bea I know. I’m okay though.” The strawberry blonde’s voice begins to waver but she clears her throat, pushing away the lump in her throat, “I know I’ve been distant lately. Pushing you away and it isn’t fair. We need to stop avoiding this conversation.” Bea nods into Poppy’s hands, sniffling as she blinks away the last couple of tears forming in her eyes. 

“You’re right.” 

And so Bea tells Poppy everything; her unexpected visit from her dad, the argument with Isabella, the night she was almost mugged. Poppy stares intensely as Bea, quietly taking in the information, part of her feels like an idiot, like she’s being selfish. Crying over a broken arm while Bea’s life is completely falling apart. But another part of her feels hurt, hurt that Bea had been concealing all of this. Suppressing all her emotions to the point where Poppy almost blamed her for her fall. 

She understands that her and Bea live in two completely different worlds. But would that be their downfall? Or would they be able to push through their differences and love each other unconditionally? Promise that they will never keep something from the other? Promise to love and commit to each other no matter the consequences? 

Maybe Bea would be able to, but could Poppy? She has more to lose than Bea does, more at stake. But all those doubts perish when Bea gazes at the strawberry blonde, relief flashing across her face. She seems more at ease than when she first came in, like the weight has been lifted off her shoulders and Bea’s problems shouldn’t be her own burden, Poppy knew what she was getting herself into when she decided to be with Bea. No matter how much life threw at them nothing could take away the fact that they were soulmates, who were brought together to balance each other out. 

“Pops?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Poppy moves in, she places a soft, long kiss on Bea’s forehead before fitting herself in Bea’s bigger frame, her arms wrapping around the brunette’s waist, while her head nuzzles into her neck. “You have nothing to apologise for Bea. If anything I should be sorry. I’ve been such a bitch, when I should’ve been there for you. I hate that we’ve come to this. Not being able to tell each other anything.” 

Poppy hears Bea sharply inhale and lifts her head to look at her girlfriend, “Was there something else?” 

One of Bea’s hands moves to stroke the strawberry blonde’s hair, she solemnly nods, “yes. Don’t be mad I didn’t say anything earlier because I would’ve but you were ignoring my calls.” Poppy pushes herself off her girlfriend studying Bea’s remorseful expression. “It’s about Carter. 

“What about him? Did he do something to you?” Poppy brow’s furrow while Bea shakes her head. 

“He approached me the night of the volleyball, the game where you fell.” her gaze drifts down to Poppy’s cast, “he knows about us.” 

Poppy feels the blood rushing to her ears, as her heart thumps powerfully in her chest. ‘This isn’t supposed to happen, no one is supposed to know’ is all she can think, while her face pales and her eyes continuously blink, wondering if she’s heard Bea wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how Poppy but he swore he wouldn’t say anything,” Bea stammers. 

Poppy feels anger flaring up in her body as her eyes shoot daggers at Bea, “what the fuck Bea. You know how many times Carter has been to my house in the last week? And this entire time he fucking knew?” Poppy wildly throws her arms around, face reddening by the second. 

Bea feels anger exploding within her, her face scrunched up in a scowl and she starts yelling, “You were ignoring me. I called. I texted. You couldn’t be bothered to check up on your own girlfriend. So don’t you dare” she points an accusatory finger at Poppy, “blame me.” 

Both girls glare at each other, anger reaching a boiling point, the sounds of their tiny quick breaths fill up the deafening silence in the room. Bea takes a step towards Poppy, who in retort takes a step forward too, and without hesitation both girls move in for the kiss, their tongues already tangled together as they fight for dominance. Bea grabs the Poppy by her hips, pulling her closer to her frame, as she angles her head downwards, pushing her tongue into Poppy’s mouth who responds with small moans, her mouth invitingly opening up, as her hands creep up around Bea’s neck, wrapping around it and pulling her down onto the bed. All the pent up anger, passion, the absence of intimacy is met in the kiss, the girls feeding off each other’s kisses not breaking apart for air, as if they can live off the very feeling they’re giving each other. 

Soon the girls pull apart, their gaze fixated on one another, until they break into a fit of laughter, realising how ludicrous the entire situation is. 

“I’m sorry for snapping. I guess I’m scared about people finding out about us.” 

“Hey.” Bea cups Poppy’s face, her thumbs stroking her jawline as her eyes look intensely into Poppy’s brown doe eyes, “I would never let anything bad happen to you. Carter said himself, he’s not the enemy, he’s just an ass.” Poppy lets out an airy laugh, slightly shaking her head, while Bea returns a small smile, “I’m just glad we’re okay now, I missed you.” Bea leans down and places a chaste kiss on the strawberry blonde’s lips. 

“I missed you too. From now on no more secrets okay? We need to make sure we are healthily communicating with each other because I hate fighting with you.” 

“I know, I guess sometimes I just don’t want to burden you.” 

“Bea, you’re my girlfriend, you could never be a burden to me.” The girls share a long look, one filled with affection and appreciation. “You gonna be okay going home? You can stay here if you want.” 

Bea shakes her head, “your dad will be here soon and I don’t wanna risk it. It’ll be fine, I think.” Bea hesitantly adds. 

‘Well, I’m here if you ever need a getaway. And I’m glad we’ve made up because there is no way in hell we are not going to celebrate your birthday.” 

Bea lets out a loud groan, “Dammit it.” 

“We are going to celebrate your birthday Bea Hughes, you are not getting out of this one so easily.” 

…. 

In the following weeks, Bea and Poppy could not be in a better place, though their relationship was still a well kept secret from the students of Belvoire, or at least the majority of them, the girls back to being madly in love. Since cheer was not really an option for Poppy currently, she began investing into her role of head of the school newspaper more, while offering more hours to volunteer at her local animal shelter. Bea on the other hand was pouring herself into maintaining a healthy work/school balance. Her and Aria began a family night once a week, where her, Aria and Poppy and sometimes Veronica, Zoey and AJ would all get together and cook and play board games for a couple of hours. Although Bea and Poppy recently made up, they almost got into another fight after Bea put down a +4 in Uno and Poppy almost lost her shit. All the while, Poppy and Zoey were planning Bea’s birthday party. Bea was never too  crazy about her birthday but after a lot of petitioning from Poppy, Veronica and Zoey she eventually agreed to a birthday party which would be hosted by Zoey. 

…. 

Soon it’s time for Bea’s birthday and as soon as the brunette wakes up from her slumber she immediately goes onto her phone to see a bunch of birthday messages from all her friends. Poppy of course had wished Bea a happy birthday at exactly 12am and left her girlfriend a very long paragraph including all the reasons she loves her. Zoey leaves a drunken voice message, telling Bea that she’s starting the party early while Veronica gives a short and very mundane message just simply wishing Bea a happy birthday. Bea scrolls through the rest of the birthday wishes thanking everyone for the wishes until a pillow comes flying out of nowhere smashing into her face. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG SIS!” Aria jumps onto Bea, giving her some very brutal birthday beats while also not forgetting to give one for luck. Once she’s done, she jumps off Bea’s bed laughing. Bea massages her arms tenderly, mentally planning her little sister’s demise until Aria brings out a small wrapped box from under her bed, holding it out to Bea. 

“Aria you didn’t have to.” 

“Shut up and just open it.” 

Bea amusingly huffs as she carefully unwraps the bow on the box, before lifting the lid. She lets out a small gasp as tears begin to form in her eyes. “Oh my god Aria.” She endearingly stares at her sister before pulling her in for a massive bear hug, “this is the best present ever thank you.’ 

Aria returns the hug for a few moments until breathlessly cries out, “Bea, you’re crushing my lungs.” Bea instantly lets go, sympathetically rubbing her younger sister’s back, 

“Sorry Aria, but this is perfect, how did you know?” She affectionately stares at the picture frame in her hand, beaming at the photo of a young Bea holding a baby Aria in her arms. 

“Because you love that kind of stuff. Mom helped me with it.” 

Bea visibly tenses, “she did huh?” Aria who is completely oblivious about the severity of the altercation between Bea and her mother, only thinking it was just a petty argument that resulted in them not being on speaking terms, merely nods and flounces to the bathroom to get ready. 

After a birthday breakfast where Bea had to take over from Aria who can barely make a decent pancake batter, the girls sit in the living room reminiscing about the past, laughing at the past memories of one another. They’re interrupted by the sudden creaking of Isabella’s door who gingerly looks out of room before stalking towards the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of water. Bea pointedly avoids Isabella’s presence by directing her complete focus to her younger sister until Isabella’s low voice interrupts the conversation. 

“Happy birthday Bea.” 

Bea ignores her mother, clenching her jaw, furious at her mother’s attempt to simply sweep her previous proclamation about not wanting anything to do with her aside. “Hey Aria, why don’t we go to Zoey’s and then I’ll drop you off at your friend’s. We’ll even take my bike.” 

Aria squeals hugging Bea tightly, “seriously? You’ll let me go on the bike?” 

“Yeah, of course. Now go get your stuff I’ll wait here.” Aria rushes into her room while Bea reluctantly makes her way to the kitchen, where Isabella’s expression is downcast as her long nails tap against her glass. “Aria’s staying over at a friend’s tonight and I’ll be home late so I guess you have the house to yourself. Don’t trash it because remember who’s paying the bills in this house.” Bea turns away but Isabella latches onto her arm, her tone pleading. 

“Please Bea. It’s been weeks.” 

Bea aggressively shrugs her mom’s arm off hers before looking directly into her eyes, a fire blazing in them. “And? I meant what I said. No more handouts. You’re on your own. Tell Aria I’m waiting out front.” With that she walks off without a second thought or glance. 

….

Bea’s birthday is soon in full blast, and as Bea walks into the back yard she can’t help but be in awe of Zoey and Poppy’s collaboration to make the party a hit. The fairy lights carefully placed around the trees, shine brightly, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. A arm slings around Bea’s shoulder pulling her close to the warm body, “Happy birthday bitch!” Zoey places a plastic crown on Bea’s head giving her best friend a kiss on the cheek. As looks up and down appraising Bea’s short red dress, “damn girl, 18 looking good on you already.” 

“How are you already drunk? The party just started.” 

“How are you not drunk yet? It’s your birthday, let loose a little.” Zoey grabs Bea’s hands doing a silly dance before Bea breaks apart her gaze serious. 

“What’s wrong Zoey? I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up.” 

Zoey sighs, slumping her shoulders, her expression dejected, “I asked Veronica if she wanted to come to this party together but she said no.” 

“Aww Zo,” Bea pulls in Zoey for a hug. “I thought you guys really liked each other?” Zoey in retort lets out a bitter laugh.

“I guess it was just about sex for her. But fuck her. I don’t need her to have a good time.” She takes a huge swig of her beer, “besides, tonight is a celebration.” She downs the rest of her drink, exhaling sharply, “I’m gonna go grab another drink.” She makes her way to the drinks stand until Bea is tackled by a hug which almost sends her tumbling to the ground. 

“Happy birthday baby.” Poppy gives Bea a huge kiss on her lips, and when the kiss breaks off, Bea licks her lips a little, tasting the cherry lip gloss from Poppy’s lips. 

“Mmm, thank you,” she pulls Poppy in for another kiss until they’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“Umm I’m here.” Veronica lifts a hand up waving, while a huge wrapped box is fitted to her side, wrapped around her other hand. “Here, happy birthday.” She shoves the box into Bea’s hands who just looks at Veronica gratefully. 

“Wow, thanks Veronica.” Veronica responds with a small hum as Bea begins ripping off the wrapping and then looks back up at Veronica wide-eyed. “Holy shit V, thank you. This is awesome.” She takes out the fresh biker helmet, staring at it in astonishment, a glossy black exterior, with white stripes painted all over it, brings a huge smile to Bea’s face and she gives Veronica a strong one armed hug. 

“You’re welcome.” Veronica beams as she hugs Bea back, “See told you she’ll like it P.” 

Poppy facetiously rolls her eyes, “fine you were right. But” she pulls Bea back to her side giving her girlfriend a quick peck on her lips, “my present is a million times better.” 

“Well duh you’re her girlfriend.” 

“Oh shush Lombardi, you’re just bitter that Zoey isn’t interested in you.” Bea furrows her eyebrows slightly at Veronica who just embarrassingly turns away. “Well let’s go get some drinks.” 

Many of Bea’s friends from the south join the party including Razor who gets a stern (and slightly drunken) telling off from Poppy for giving Bea a knife. Poppy excuses herself to join Zoey and a bunch of others in a game of truth or dare which Bea respectfully declines. As the party carries on, Bea stands at the edge of the living room carefully sipping her beer as she looks around, the music infectiously blaring from the speakers as everyone begins to dance. AJ sidles up to Bea giving her a warm hug wishing her a happy birthday. 

“I was wondering when you would show up.” 

“My dad wanted me to stay for a family dinner since my aunt came over but said I could come to the party once it ended.” 

Bea gives AJ a sincere pat on the back, “Well I’m glad you’re here. Have you spoken to Poppy yet?” 

AJ sheepishly rubs his hand on his neck, a slight frown on his face, “not yet. I’ve been kinda avoiding her but I’ll speak to her and apologize for scaring her.” 

“Alright, go and enjoy the party, I’m just gonna head out for some air.” AJ joins the fray as Bea heads out to the front yard staring at the night sky. 

“I thought you’re supposed to celebrate on your birthday?” 

Bea turns her head slightly to see a smirking Veronica making her way up to her and amusingly huffs, “I just needed some air. Sometimes the music gives me a headache.” 

“Yeah, these parties can be a bit much. But they’re definitely better than the shitty parties from Belvoire’s most finest.” 

“I’ve never been to a Belvoire party before.” 

Veronica exapgreentlying gasps, holding a hand to her chest, “who would’ve thought, Belvoire’s most hated has never been to a Belvoire party,” her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Bea smirks but her eyes look lost in thought until she looks over at the ombre-haired girl, curiosity in her eyes, “so what happened with you and Zoey, I thought you guys liked each other?” 

Veronica clicks her tongue, her expression contemplating, “she just wasn’t what I wanted.” 

“Oh so there’s someone else?” Bea raises an eyebrow at Veronica who just whole-heartedly rolls her eyes in retort. 

“Maybe. But I don’t know if they want me like that.” 

“Why not? You’re a great girl. I’m sure you would make them very happy.” 

Veronica shakes her head slightly, throwing her head back to stare at the sky, “well, I don’t want to ruin what they already have, it seems” her brows knit together as she ponders what word to use, “solid.” 

“Well you’ll find someone I’m sure. I mean I’m grateful for Poppy, I don’t know where I would be without her.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty great isn’t she?” 

“Yeah. She is.” Bea smiles, her eyes twinkling as she thinks about her girlfriend. She shakes out of daze and smiles back at Veronica, “thanks again for the bike helmet.” 

“It’s fine Bea. I know how much you love the thing. I just thought you should look cooler while riding it.” Veronica turns to Bea, her expression pondering, “Why do you love motorcycles so much?” 

“Wait.. have you never ridden on a motorcycle before?” Veronica shakes her head. “Oh my god, it’s the best feeling ever, the wind blowing in your face, the speed. It feels like freedom I guess.” 

“Huh. That’s nice I guess.” 

“You guess? No I won’t have that. Come on.” She grabs one of Veronica’s hands steering her towards her bike that’s parked outside the house. “We’re going for a ride now.” 

“Uhhh are you sober enough for that?” Veronica raises an eyebrow at Bea, “I don’t wanna end up on the news for being the influencer who died while riding on a motorcycle with someone under the influence of alcohol.” 

Bea lets out a guffaw, holding her stomach, “I barely drank anything tonight. Trust me, you’re in good hands.” Veronica gives Bea a nod of okay, “uhh wait, let me tell Poppy we’re going for a ride, I’ll be right back.” She leaves Veronica on the sidewalk making her way into the house in pursuit of her girlfriend. She finds the strawberry blonde in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing her heart out to the music, drunkenly singing along to the words. Bea comes from behind, pulling Poppy’s hips to hers, and leans down to whisper into her ear, “looks like you’re having a good time.” Poppy in response, reaches back, her hands entwining around Bea’s neck as she grinds against her hips. 

“I have to admit, even though I had a hand in this party, Zoey really outdid herself.” 

Bea twists Poppy around placing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips, “i’m glad you’re having fun, you deserve it babe. Veronica is waiting outside for me though. She told me she’s never ridden on a motorcycle before so imma take her for a ride on my bike okay? I’ll be back.” 

“Okay.” 

Poppy slightly freezes when she sees AJ enter the room, Bea follows her gaze, a solemn look on her face, “he wants to talk to you by the way. I think he wants to apologise.” 

“Yeah I guess we should talk,” Poppy sobers up slightly as she releases Bea and stands a little taller, “I’ll catch you later okay, I still need to give you your present.” 

“Okay,” Bea smiles down at her girlfriend before planting a chaste kiss on her lips, “let me know how it goes between you.” 

Poppy nods and makes her way to AJ while Bea moves towards the front yard. When Poppy reaches AJ she gingerly taps him on the shoulder, AJ jumps from the sudden touch, spinning towards Poppy almost dropping his drink in the process. 

“Gah! Sorry Poppy.” He drinks the contents of his cup before placing it on the counter and looks at the strawberry blonde. “So I’m guessing you spoke to Bea huh?” 

“Yeah, we should go somewhere quieter and talk.” AJ follows Poppy out to the corner of the back yard, away from the rest of the partygoers. “So.” 

“So.” 

“I know Bea already spoke to you about the party and stuff but I guess I wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” AJ says surprised. 

“Yeah. What you did was kinda dumb but your heart was in the right place.” AJ lets out a small laugh shaking his head slightly. “I’m just grateful you would protect me like that AJ.” 

“Of course I would Poppy. You’re Bea’s girlfriend. And even if you weren’t you needed help. I hate when guys think they can do whatever they want to girls without facing the consequences.” There was a depth to AJ’s words, like he wasn’t just talking about that one ordeal, Poppy contemplated asking but AJ is just as fickle as Bea if not more, his behaviour and moods are often unpredictable so Poppy made a mental note to speak to Bea about it later. 

“Well it was very brave of you AJ. I’m glad Bea has amazing friends like you.” 

“Well you’re my friend too Poppy, and you deserve to have someone other than Bea to have your back.” 

Poppy turns silent, absorbing AJ’s revelation, were any of her friends as diehard as Bea’s? Would they ever assist Poppy like how AJ did? Poppy begins wondering if her friends were truly her friends at all, as she looks over at AJ, the young sophomore goofily grinning back at her, and she can’t help but smile. AJ is family to her, how Bea is like an older sister to him means that Poppy is also a sister to him too, and family, look out for each other which is something she’s beginning to learn. She tugs AJ close to her, pulling him into a back-breaking hug as she sobs softly into his shoulder, “thank you AJ, for everything.” 

AJ is too stunned to reply, so his hold around Poppy just tightens as the two just bask in the warmth of the embrace, content that they can rely on each other. 

All the while, Bea takes Veronica out for a ride on her bike while wearing her new helmet which was graciously gifted by the ombre-haired girl herself. 

“It looks good on you.” 

“Thanks.” Bea swings her leg around the bike before settling on the seat, she nods her head towards Veronica, “so? Hop on.”

Veronica timidly ambles towards Bea’s bike and climbs behind the brunette as her legs brushes slightly against her hips. 

“Hold on tight okay? We don’t want you falling off.” Bea says looking back, a widespread grin on her face. Veronica moves closer to Bea on the bike, her hands coming around to grip Bea’s stomach, “just a little tighter V.” Veronica squeezes her arms around Bea’s waist, “perfect. You ready?” 

“Let’s go.” 

Bea takes off on the bike, slowly at first but when she feels Veronica’s fingers beginning to relax around her waist, she begins to speed up, the wind breezing against her helmet while Veronica’s hair freely moves against the wind. The streetlights begin blurring as Bea increases the speed, the motorcycle going almost 50 miles an hour, and Veronica closes her eyes, relishing in the freedom Bea promised she would feel. They circle around the block a couple of times until it comes to a stop and Bea takes off her helmet shaking out her curly hair. 

“Oh my god.” 

“So? How was it?” 

“It was fucking exhilirating. Holy fuck Bea. Maybe I should invest in a motorcycle.” 

Bea lets out a laugh, “you definitely should, see I told you it’s amazing.” 

“Yeah yeah you were right.” Veronica pulls out her phone and gasps, “shit Poppy texted like a hundred times, come on it’s time to cut your cake.” 

The girls make their way to Zoey’s kitchen where everyone stands in a circle, eagerly and a few impatient, waiting to cut the cake. 

“There she is!” Zoey screams as the rest of the party goers cheer and Poppy sidles to Bea’s side giving her a kiss on her cheek. Zoey lights the candles as the group of people break into singing happy birthday. Bea pauses before blowing out her candles, a fond look in her eyes as the candles are blown out and eventually the cake is distributed between everyone and Poppy and Bea settle on the couch with Veronica sitting next to Poppy while Zoey and AJ sit next to Bea all silently eating the cake. 

“So how was the ride?” Poppy asks. 

“Awesome. Veronica is now a motorcycle convert.” Bea jests and Veronica rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Hey, I never had anything against motorcycles okay? I’ve just never been on one until tonight. But it was honestly life changing.’ 

The three girls break into a fit of giggles until Poppy reaches over, intertwining her fingers of her non broken hand, with Bea’s whispering in her ear. “Well I think it’s time for your present.” Bea gleams at Poppy as she allows herself to be pulled away from the couch but not before looking back and giving Zoey a sly smirk hinting at the fact Zoey and Veronica are now sitting next to each other. 

Poppy pulls Bea into Zoey’s empty bedroom before pulling Bea into a long passionate kiss. 

“Is this my present?” Bea grabs Poppy’s hips, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“That’s for later babe,” Poppy indulges in Bea’s desires for a few moments, allowing herself to get lost in Bea’s kiss as their tongues tangle together, eliciting a few soft moans from the strawberry blonde. Poppy pushes Bea slightly back, and rests her forehead against Bea’s, “stop distracting me, I gotta give you your present.” 

Poppy brings out her phone and pulls out a picture of an empty apartment, showing the picture to Bea. Bea looks at the photo confused, raising a pointed eyebrow at her girlfriend. “Uhhh I don’t get it.” 

“This is our apartment in New York. I put an early deposit on the place so it’s officially ours.”

read part 8 here 

[lollytea]

Fearless (part 1/3)

(Ty/Louie fairytale au fic. i am simply a bitch writing about my au and my oc so it is all very catered to me personally and im aware not a lot of ppl will read it. but if you DO read it, i love u so much. i guess tw for blood/serious injuries relating to teen characters. nothing too graphic but be warned. Also if you’re curious, info on the au here, here and here.)

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[OCTOBER 22ND, 6:19PM] The sky was bleeding pink and orange and Louie tried to focus on it. Didn't take much brainpower to appreciate a sunset. He clung to the sight with desperation, muttering the simplest thoughts under his breath like a mantra.

It was pretty. He liked sunsets. He liked pink. He liked orange. The distraction wasn't working. The unpleasantness that was already writhing in his stomach churned. His finger was on his temple, idly tracing delicate circles against the tightly wrapped bandage. His head hurt. The point where his shoulder met his upper arm was also dressed. The stitching still had to heal up. That hurt too. Louie was pretty stupid. Which was not something he usually thought. But it was a real kick in the confidence when someone sharp-witted did something stupid. And it was a real kick in the heart when someone who didn't wanna hurt anybody ended up hurting somebody. This was stupid. He had already tried reading as a means of distraction. Too hard. Too many words. Way too much of a strain on his mild concussion. This was so, so stupid. Sitting by his windowsill, he hoped this dumb bandage would be gone soon. His forehead felt sticky and damp with sweat. He was stupid. He wished Webby were here. If she were, she'd be in the courtyard below his window sparring with Dewey. At least then, Louie could watch and keep his mind occupied. No. No, that wasn't right. If Webby were here, she would've attached herself to Louie by now, hugging him tight until his injury healed. If it had been any other incident, Louie would let her, crumbling into her arms and whimpering about the pain as his amazing, magical sister made it all ebb away. But this wasn't any other incident. If Webby were here, he wouldn't be able to accept her hugs. The very idea rubbed him the wrong way. If anyone was entitled to healing hugs, it wasn't Louie, it was--.... His face twisted up. Webby wasn't here. She was off on some quest with Lena. Probably wouldn't be back for days. So there was no point in dwelling over hypotheticals. Louie would heal on his own. They were both gonna have to heal on their own. The sunset was fading.

It was pretty. Pink... Orange.... He couldn't do this. 

Why was he doing this?! Louie always knew himself to be a coward but this was to a pathetic extent. Depraved even. He felt sick. 

He couldn't. He just couldn't. Every additional second he spent hiding in his room was weighing him down. It was suffocating. But he couldn't leave. He was too scared.

Freezing up just like always. Just stop being so fucking scared! He would have to confront what he did eventually. There was no way around it. So, why couldn't he just go now? Louie had far worse things in his life to be dreading. Far worse. A ticking clock of trepidation was seated deep inside him. A predestined future he couldn't rewrite which, on all accounts, should render him paralyzed. But he wasn't. This was the sort of thing to demolish him. Apparently. Stupid. This shouldn't be overdriving his other senses. This shouldn't be flooding his mind. He shouldn't be drowning right now. This shouldn't have his hands shaking. This shouldn't have him pacing the length of his room. This shouldn't be stealing the oxygen from his lungs. His brain was pounding against his skull, protesting his rapid back-and-forth movement. He was dizzy. He shouldn't be crying. Fuck it! He was always crying, who cares about that?! Just stop panicking, just stop crying, just stop being so selfish for once and just own up. Louie's back crashed against his door, gasping for breath. Stars were blotting his vision and he couldn't breathe and it was the end of the world. Okay. Okay. He was spiraling again. That was all it was, it would be okay. It would be okay. The prince's bed chambers, alive with the choking sound of contained distress, subsided to complete silence for just a moment. Inhale. Exhale. And then all to be heard was a small, crackling voice straining to sing himself a quiet little lullaby. ___________ [OCTOBER 22ND, 10:07AM] "Your highness, don't be an idiot. You can't just---Hey! Wait up!" "H'oh boy..." Louie's eyes flicked to the high heavens. Right now he felt like he was tasked with personally escorting this goddamn boy across this goddamn forest by the goddamn ankles. He whirled around impatiently, crossing his arms with a flourish. "Pick up the pace, Tiberius. We don't have all day." "Can you maybe not be a huge pain for like... I dunno, five minutes?" Snapped Ty, his dearly devoted retainer and most notorious pain-in-the-tail. "Can you maybe loosen up? Y'know it's a real mood killer when there's a paranoid guy on my case all the time, insisting that the whole world is out to get me. Being constantly reminded of my fragile mortality? Woo, talk about fun times." Scowling, Ty stumbled his way over a protruding tree root. "You've got a bad habit of attracting danger, you know that, right? I'm pretty sure it's a Duck thing." The remark slapped the annoyed expression right off Louie's face. Ty quirked an eyebrow. "What's that look for?" Before he could further analyse, Louie sharply turned on his heel and strode on. "It's a Duck thing." He said, keeping his tone even. Both of them knew it was a Duck thing. Ty just didn't know the half of it. "Your highness," He heard Ty gripe. "You know this is a bad idea. A prince shouldn't be out in the open like this without proper protection. And I'm unprepared right now. I can't--" If Ty weren't yakking so much, Louie wouldn't know if he was still there. He wasn't wearing his armor for once so the familiar clank and clatter of metal was nonexistent. "You got your sword, right? You can do a lot of damage with that thing." "Yeah but no juice. And I need juice. See, 'cause what if we get in a tight spot and you--?" "What do you think is gonna happen, Ty?! For the love of all that is gold, It's just a party." "It's never just anything." He grumbled. Ty jogged ahead a little, matching his pace to Louie's. His footsteps alongside him were purposefully heavy So, he was stomping now. Real mature. Louie rolled his eyes. He was fully aware Ty was pissed, he didn't have to go above and beyond to make his anger known. "You really think I'm an idiot who doesn't take safety precautions? I'll have you know keeping Prince Louie alive isn't just your problem. Prince Louie is pretty serious about that too." He gestured to himself. "If you haven't noticed, I'm incognito today. I've got no crown, no mantle, no status whatsoever. And look at these ugly peasant threads," Louie pointed out, tugging at the hem of his dull green tunic. "It's actually kinda depressing how drab I look. I'm never gonna do this again actually. But! See how committed I am right now? Who's gonna recognize me? As we're all aware, I'm pretty well known for my pizzazz." "Just 'cause you stop being a prince doesn't mean danger stops existing." "No but it makes you way less of a target. Now, are you really gonna spend your whole day off bitching at me?" 

The glare Ty shot him was petulant at best. "Well, I didn't wanna. But I got dragged along on this little adventure so guess I gotta." Louie pursed his beak, irritated. He did not drag Ty along anywhere. 

"Come to think of it, I don't remember saying you had to follow me." Well, that came out as harsher than intended. Ty didn't seem hurt. At least, there was no sign that he was. No expression cracked his stone mask. "I've got a duty." Louie scoffed. Ty and his stupid duty. It was really starting to wear on his nerves. But not today, absolutely not today. On this fine, glorious day, Louie was intent on having fun. He would show up at this little forest shindig and he would drink and dance and schmooze and whatever else any carefree person at a party would do. He would forget about everything that was eating at him. He wasn't gonna let it consume him, he wasn't. He was gonna live. While he still could. His sixteenth birthday loomed closer. Six months left. "Sorry." Said Ty, unprompted. The shadows festering in Louie's head cleared out as he snapped back to the present. Ty had his eyes firmly downcast, a noticeable slump to his posture. "It's not like I wanna be running around killing the fun all the time. I really don't. But I gotta." Louie said nothing. His eyebrows rose in quiet astonishment as he studied Ty's side profile. He remembered when Ty first came into his life. Twelve years old, brandishing a sword too big for his body and grinning lopsidedly in an unmistakably trouble seeking sorta way. A real firecracker of a boy, loud and bright. Hungry for adventure and excited to throw himself head first into the action. He remembered one of Ty's earliest and most confident statements. When he lowered himself to bow to Louie in his uncle's throne room and declared that the prince would never fear for his life again. Because Ty would protect him and Ty was fearless. Louie believed him. Make no mistake, Ty had plenty of bite back then too. He had disliked Louie and the feeling had been mutual. But he never doubted that Ty had spoken the truth with his entire heart. Ty was fearless. When Louie was with Ty, he was safe. He believed that and he always had. Despite how they clicked as well as a dagger and a keyhole. Despite Ty being annoying. So annoying. He was still annoying. But it was different now. Louie couldn't pinpoint when that permanent glowing smile of his had dwindled and a thin frown had become Ty's default expression. His sword, something he always used to proudly haul around over his shoulder, now unceremoniously sheathed against his belt. Although Louie had noticed that his right hand never strayed too far from the hilt.   Protecting royalty with your entire being was an all-consuming duty and it seemed, at some point, the reality of such an allegiance had slapped Ty across the face. He had this distinct way of holding himself now. Always stood straight and rigid, coiled up with agitation. He was prepared to fight at a moment's notice but it was clear the thrill of doing so had been long since drained out of him. He still smiled. He still laughed. But only sometimes. Ty was annoying because he was paranoid. Because he was snarky. Because he was too stiff, too protective. And man, what Louie wouldn't give to have Ty's former brand of annoying back. At least never made him feel sorry for the guy. "Can I ask you a favor?" Louie finally spoke, pushing back a drooping tree branch so they could walk below it "You can try." Ty shrugged, his gaze still fixed ahead. "What if we just turn off this whole 'Prince and Retainer' thing today. Whadd'ya think?" He turned to him blankly, complete with a slight tilt of the head that made Louie a tiny bit weak. "Wha....?" Ty was simply not computing. He looked as though Louie was throwing out algebra equations and he was supposed to solve them right on the spot. And he was not a math guy by any means. The cute clueless expression was making it a little hard to focus. Louie swallowed. "Listen." He began, his thumb dragging itself across his sweaty palm as he struggled with how to phrase this. Louie had a way with words, always had. But he had a tendency to trip over his own tongue when Ty was involved. Especially when Ty was staring at him with his soft cande-light eyes and doing that stupid adorable head tilting thing and-- "You need a break." Louie blurted out. "You're stressed like constantly and it's getting kinda insufferable and I think your Dad would sick a dragon on me if his barely fifteen year old son suddenly kicked it 'cause of a paranoia overload so I think you should just forget about being my big strong hero for today and come hang out with me at this stupid peasant party and we can just be two regular kids instead of a royal and his bodyguard do you think you could give me that Tiberius?" It was only in the following beat of silence that Louie realized how fast he spat that all out. He struggled to catch his breath. One second. Ty blinked. Two seconds. A flicker of vacant eyes and then a rush of realization. And then disbelief. And then-- Three seconds. His brow scrunched together and a snarl crinkled his muzzle. His eyes flared. Oh, he was mad.... "Are you crazy?!" Ty shouted. He was beside himself with a malfunctioning mix of fury and incredulity that had him stammering his words. "You-You can't just--.....D-do you even-- you don't...do you realize how disrespectful that is? For you to say it? For-For me to do it?! I was given this duty by the King! The fucking King! To just suddenly "turn it off" would be--....I can't--!" Maybe "mad" was an understatement. "Ty--" Louie tried. He was cutting across Louie, treading back and forth on their forest path,. Not going further, not going back. Just walking to nowhere for the sake of being too scandalized to possibly stand still. Louie was attempting to get Ty's attention by grabbing his tunic but he kept shaking him off. "I'd be a disgrace! An embarrassment! I'm trusted by the royal family to keep--...to keep you safe! I-I can't just walk around with my liege like I'm on vacation and not be on guard! You don't even get it, you--" "Ty!" Louie said loudly."You wanna maybe listen for a sec?!" Frankly, he was surprised Ty halted his tirade. His eyes were blown wide, stunned and Louie wasn't quite sure why until he followed Ty's look, snapping down. Seems in his effort to get a hold of the guy, he had instinctively reached out and snatched Ty's wrist. They stood frozen for a moment, each set of eyes boring into the touch that tied them together. Louie's fingers began to uncurl. Then he decided no. His grip on Ty tightened with a purposeful squeeze. Ty met his gaze, looking....panicked? Confused? Didn't matter. He could besottedly dissect his unreadable facial expressions later. Louie inhaled, deciding to shoulder his dignity for just a second. No safety rails of snark this time. Ty might make fun of him for being sincere later but this was important. "Don't you miss being a kid with nothing to worry about?" Louie implored. "Because if we're being real, I don't think we're ever gonna get to live like that again." Ty muttered something to himself, shaking his head a little. "But listen," Louie continued, taking a step into Ty's personal bubble. Ty took an automatic step back. But since he was still holding his hand, Louie was led a step forward. It was difficult to tell with the pink fur but he could've sworn Ty reddened. "Look I know it's weird for me to be asking but....can't we just take a risk today? It's just a party in the woods. Literally the least likely place to find any danger in the whole kingdom." "We shouldn't--" "Ty, please." Honestly, Louie was a little surprised at himself. He hadn't even planned for Ty to accompany him anyway. But in the heat of the moment, everything had shifted upside-down. Turns out there was something inside him willing to beg. Something that wanted more than anything, for Ty come along. He just wanted a simple memory of just killing time with Ty. Separated from the castle and everything that reminded him of his fate. He would like to smile without a hint of dread for once this year. So, he said just that. "I'm not just trying to make you come along 'cause I'm stuck with you. That's not it." He swallowed. "You're--....you're cool. You're fun. I wanna have you around. You know, when you're not so worked up and you're just being yourself, I like hanging out with you." He tugged Ty's hand a little. Further from his sword and closer to Louie. "I want you to come with me. And I want you to try having fun too." He may as well just tell the idiot he thought about him every time he saw a sunset. The hand he was grasping flexed its fingers. Ty abruptly broke eye contact and glanced to the side, his tongue poking out to pierce the tip of his jagged tooth. His indecisive face. "I just--.....I dunno...." He muttered. "If something happened to you--" "Nothing's gonna happen to me." Said Louie immediately. "I've got a good feeling about this. And c'mon Ty, that coming from a coward?" "You're not a coward." He said, barely a whisper. He was now staring at the ground. "I promise." "Huh?" Louie smiled tightly as Ty looked to him questionably. "I promise nothing is gonna happen. I'm gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. Now, can you do me this favor and maybe, I dunno, trust me?" The look Ty gave him was a little sad, but it was soft. And then with only a tiny twitch, it shifted into something else entirely. It was trust. Blind trust. Maybe stupid trust. A minuscule pang of guilt jabbed at Louie. Of course he wanted Ty to trust him. He needed him to if there was any hope of achieving his goal here. But objectively, he really shouldn't. Louie was hiding way too much from him. It wasn't fair. Then Ty broke the world, shattered orbit and played around with reality itself by cracking a smile and Louie forgot every coherent thought he ever possessed. He would never put on record just how long he spent pre-preparing jokes, gunning to get the corner of Ty's lips to flick upwards. Made him seem kinda desperate. Which he was not. Ty had that oh, so stereotypical "cute boy" smile. It was crooked, cocky, it was utterly obnoxious. Louie hated it. And worst of all, it was like a little spell to kick Louie's heart into high speed. Sometimes it dazed and confused him like a blinding light flash. But other times, it was warm and if he stared long enough, he'd fall asleep. Louie loved Ty's smile. Every time he tried to convince himself he didn't, he ended up dwelling on it too much and the way his mouth would quirk up would play in his mind on a maddening loop and then it would be too much to handle and the truth that he loved it would always overpower him. So, whenever that happened (like right this second.) he gave up and admitted it. To himself, anyway. He loved Ty's smile. He loved Ty. ......Wait. That last part was new, hold up. Rewind. But he didn't get the chance because Ty was talking now. Still a little dazzled, Louie didn't catch what he said but he figured it was good since he was still smiling. And then that smile broke into a huge grin, his eyes flashed with trouble and his hands were on Louie's shoulders and-- "Race ya!" Ty cried. With a light push, Louie was stumbling backwards and Ty kicked off into a sprint. For a brief moment, Louie could only gaze after him, stupefied. Love, huh? Like the real deal? That was crazy. But then he snapped out of as he recalled the audacity of this bastard. "You just pushed your liege!" He shrieked, receiving a loud "WOO!" from Ty as a response. And then Louie was grinning. He was giddy. He didn't quite know if he forgot about love in that instance or if it was the force powering him but he was tearing off after Ty, yelling about the latter's totally unfair head start. In hindsight, he should've figured it was love a long time ago. Who else would get him to run for no reason?

[therainroguefanfiction]

🏐 Long Way Down; Morisuke Yaku (Sportember #007)

📑 Table of Contents | ⚾ Challenge Post

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,925

Pairing: Reader x Yaku

World: Haikyuu!!

Prompt: “Life is walking on a tightrope, with nothing but a blindfold. It’s a long way down.”

Sport: Volleyball

WARNING: This fic contains depression and self-harm. If this is a trigger for you, please do not read.

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When people looked at you, they saw a cheerful third-year so full of life and ambition. And why wouldn’t you be? You attended a good school, your family didn’t have financial problems, you came from a loving family, blessed with parents that loved you and supported everything you decided to do. Your grades were above average, you were athletic, selfless, and willing to give the shirt off your back if someone needed it. Your classmates called you perfect, but you weren’t. Far from it.

No one knew about the demons that you battled on a daily basis. No one knew that you cried yourself to sleep nearly every night. No one knew just how much you were suffering, how much you hated yourself. In your mind, you simply weren’t good enough, not strong enough, despite people telling you that you were. With every decision, you felt regret. With every compliment, you wanted to tell them that they were wrong. But people expected you to be happy, to cheer them up when they were feeling down.

What would everyone think if they knew the truth? If they knew what a depressed mess that you were, barely holding on… You wanted nothing more than to be the person people believed you to be, but you just weren’t strong enough to meet everyone’s expectations.

When your depression finally reached its peak, you knew you had to do something, so you met up with your friend in a small coffee shop far enough away from Nekoma high to avoid any of your classmates. The two of you had been close since middle school, but she had chosen a different high school so you didn’t get to hang out with each other as often anymore. At first, she was cheerful, asking why you suddenly wanted to meet up, but when you explained your situation, her face went blank.

“Is this a joke?” Her voice was deathly calm, but rage was swirling within her dark eyes.

You frowned, wringing your hands nervously in your lap. “No. Why would I -”

“Give me a break!” She suddenly snapped, her fist making the table rattle when it made contact. “Little perfect Y/N is depressed? You have no right to be depressed, bitch. Your family doesn’t struggle to pay bills, your parents don’t hate each other’s guts. You have people kissing the ground you walk on! You don’t have to worry about being held back because you can’t make the grade, but you’re depressed?” She scoffed in disbelief, quickly standing up. “No, you’re just a greedy, self-centered little cunt that has to have everyone’s attention just to be happy!”

Tears stung at your eyes as your friend left the cafe with a huff. Guilt filled your entire being as her words rang out in your mind. ‘She’s right… I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, I didn’t stop to consider hers. She’s going through so much and I… I’m a terrible human being.’ You bit your lip hard to muffle your sobs as you held your face in your hands, tears sliding down your warm cheeks.

No one within the cafe even batted an eye in your direction.

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Since that meeting with your friend, you’ve found it harder and harder to keep your emotions in check. It was like your negative emotions were demons locked behind a steel door, constantly slamming their bodies against it to try and break it open, but the padlocks were holding strong. At least until your friend broke one of them off. Now, that door is rattling more violently, the screws slowly but surely being knocked loose.

How much longer before they broke the door down? What would happen then? You felt so terrified and so very alone.

There were many options to help curb the pain. Temporary distractions to let you feel normal and happy for a short amount of time. False hope in the form of alcohol or drugs, self-harm or even violence. You decided to start cutting yourself – just one or two marks on your stomach at first, then your inner thighs and chest. Anywhere that couldn’t be seen in your uniform. It wasn’t long before it became your addiction, a fix you couldn’t make it through the day without. It made everything so much more bearable, but you were beginning to run out of free space.

You started to wear long sleeves even when it was ungodly hot, the sweat clinging to the wounds and making them burn slightly. With your attention on the physical pain, the demons behind the door started to calm. It was an incredible feeling, making the pain worth it.

If people noticed your change in attitude, they didn’t seem too bothered by it. Most assumed you were just trying to be quirky, and they started wearing long-sleeved sweaters, too, thinking it was just a fashion trend that you were starting.

There was one person that couldn’t be fooled, though, and he was starting to grow quite concerned.

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When you showed up to help with the volleyball team’s afternoon practice, the boys gave you weird looks. It was the middle of summer, the heat climbing to its peak, yet you were dressed in the winter gym uniform as if it were twenty degrees. They were on the fence about bringing this up but ultimately decided against it. The problem was that Kenma lacked a filter.

“Y/N-san, why are you dressed like that? I feel hot just looking at you.”

You had gotten used to comments like these and just smiled it off. “I like it!”

Yaku scowled, his hand resting on his hip. “I don’t care if you like it. Go put on the other uniform before you die of heatstroke!” He was feeling frustrated because he had already told you that the AC in the gym was broken, but you just didn’t seem to care. He could clearly see you sweating and he knew you were feeling hot. ‘Y/N doesn’t seem to care much for anything these days…’

You tried to brush off the comment, but something about his tone really irked you and you just snapped. “You’re not my damn dad, Yaku, don’t think you can just order me around!”

Yaku and the rest of the team froze in shock, staring at you as if you had just spouted an extra head. In all of the time that they had known you, you had never raised your voice to any of them or even gotten upset with them, and especially not with Yaku, who you were easily the closest to.

The sudden silence made you realize your mistake and you quickly faked a laugh, rubbing the back of your head. “Just kidding~!”

The team visibly relaxed and Yamamoto stepped up to slap your shoulder, making you wince for multiple reasons. “Good one, Y/N! You really had us going there!”

“Thank you,” you quickly turned on your heel before heading into the storage room to catch your breath. You were so caught up in cursing yourself for your reaction that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming after you or the sound of the door being slid closed.

“Y/N.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling around with your hand over your heart and forcing a smile on your lips. “You scared me, Yaku! Guess that’s karma for the joke, huh?”

He frowned. “When are you going to stop with the fake smiles?”

Your smile faltered a bit. “I don -”

“Stop lying!” He scowled, hands balling into fists at his sides. “What’s happened to you, Y/N? You’ve become so fake lately.”

The words were like arrows piercing your skin and you lowered your head, biting hard on your bottom lip. ‘He’s right. What have I become? Why am I so damn pathetic?’

For a moment, he just watched you, his dark eyes taking in every slight movement that your body made. The subtle quiver of your chain. The light jolting of your shoulders. The way clamped so tightly onto your lip. You were in pain, that much was obvious, but… why? What was causing you so much distress?

“I can’t do this anymore…” your voice was soft, barely reaching his ears. “I’m just so tired, Yaku. I just want everything to… to stop.” Your legs gave out beneath you, body crumbling to the ground, which caused him to race forward on instinct.

“Y/N -” He reached for your hand and froze, eyes widening when he noticed the thin trail of blood rolling down from beneath your sleeve, coming from the wound that Yamamoto had reopened when he smacked your shoulder. With his heart hammering in his ears, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, carefully sliding the sleeve of your sweater up. What he saw made his stomach turn.

Dozens of cuts, big and small, littered your skin, some old, some new, some scabbed over and bright red. The older ones were in short, straight lines across your arm, but the newer ones were clearly done with haste, criss-crossing and varying in length. As his finger gently traced the healing wounds, he could feel your desperation increasing with each cut.

“Pathetic, right?” You chuckled bitterly. “I have everything, but it’s just not enough. It’s never enough…”

Yaku tugged on your wrist, pulling you into his warm, protective embrace. “Idiot, why didn’t you come to me?”

Tears fell from your eyes in droves as you clung to his jersey. “I-I was so sc-scared,” you sobbed into his chest. “I don’t – I don’t want you to… to h-hate me!”

His arms tightened around your body. “I could never hate you, Y/N. Why would you think that?”

Reluctantly, you told him about your friend, feeling his body tensing up against yours. “I’m so-sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was warm and soft, his grip firm as he took you by the shoulders, pushing your body backward so he could meet your eyes. “Listen to me. It doesn’t matter what you have or don’t have, depression is an illness. It doesn’t see social status or material objects, it affects everyone equally. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N, but you can’t just leave it unchecked. You have to tell your family.”

The thought sent a wave of fear and panic throughout your body and you frantically shook your head. “N-No, I can’t…!”

“You can,” he assured you. “And I’ll be right there beside you. You’re not alone, Y/N, this team cares deeply for you. I care deeply for you and I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

“Yaku…” your eyes shimmered as a fresh round of tears fell down your cheeks.

He leaned forward, lips pressing softly to your forehead. “I will always be here for you, no matter what. But you have to promise me something.”

You frowned, fingers curling around the end of his jersey. “What is it?”

His thumb brushed beneath your eye, gathering your tears. “Promise me that you won’t hurt yourself anymore. When you get the urge to do so, come to me. I’ll beat that desire into submission!”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile at his declaration, nuzzling your face into his neck. Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but he knew what the words were as your lips formed them against his skin. “I promise.”

And you meant them with every fiber of your being. Suddenly, the world didn’t seem quite so dark, quite so heavy upon your shoulders.

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[cieloxcnco]

yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch12

Chapter 12

Words: 4,100+

Warnings: language and angst, no smut this time.

A/N: as always, i’m sorry it took so long, but my life has been a shitshow. if you still want to read, here it is.

chapter 11 is here if you need to catch up.

-

The hospital staff had woken her up several times to breastfeed their still nameless baby. Nurses were used to cases of postpartum depression but this was something else entirely. This was a mother so numb and empty it was impossible to bring her out of that haze. This was a family in such distress that none were able to look the others in the eye. This was a newborn baby girl so unsettled by the unwelcoming environment that she could not settle herself and constantly fussed. The nurses could tell that the arrival of this new visitor, unbothered by their insistence to stop and leave the patients in peace, would do nothing to improve the situation. Isa was taking the common advice, to sleep when the baby slept, but the feel of someone’s eyes boring into her with such fire was enough to rouse her. “Clara,” she gasped, sitting up quickly but bending over sharply due to the pain. She sat on the bench by the hospital room window, ever the crisp, clean look of the manager ready to take care of business. “Don’t bother getting up,” she replied, eyes scanning over the woman in the hospital bed before her. Clara’s ever-present smile was gone, glaring with venom and her tone snide. “I won’t be here long.” Isa, overwhelmed and weak, shrunk back against the starched sheets and avoided the piercing stare aimed in her direction. She attempted to speak but the words died on the tip of her dry tongue. Clara snarled, “Do you have any idea how bad things have become outside of these four walls?” The truth was she didn’t. She knew just based on Christopher’s text and the fact that no one would dare mention Zabdiel’s name in the room meant that all manner of chaos and disaster had unfolded. But here it had just been her and the newborn baby girl; no thought had been given to the hurricane outside of their shelter. “You’ve broken them, Isabella,” she hissed. “They’re all in pieces because of you. You and your selfishness.” Clara was generally soft and smiling, but such biting words and harsh tone had never been directed at Isa before. But she knew she deserved all of it. More than what she was getting. This unsettling interaction was bound to be just the tip of the iceberg. Isa gnawed at her lower lip. “Clara, I-” “Oh, shut the fuck up, Isa,” Clara spat with a roll of her eyes and her mouth in a disgusted snarl. “I don’t want to hear you even try to talk right now. You destroyed my boys. All of them. Not only are Zabdiel and Christopher completely shattered, but Richard and Erick can’t even pick up the pieces. Joel has enough on his plate and now his band is at each other’s throats. It’s disgusting. And all because you wanted to fuck around-” Isa’s eyes were welling with tears that whatever pride she had intact wouldn’t allow her to cry. “Clara, I fell-“ “-In love,” she interrupted with a roll of her eyes, “Con los dos hombres a la misma vez, y toda esa mierda. You know I don’t believe that shit for a minute.” She scoffed, still scanning her over with her sharp glare. “I believe you have Chris giving you heart eyes while you’ve still got Zabdi’s ring on your finger and you were like,” she shrugged dramatically, waving her hand away in the air, ”’You know what? I’m just gonna go for it. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.’ Didn’t turn out that way and now you’re sorry for it. You’re not sorry for what you did. You’re sorry you got caught and can’t carry on going behind people’s backs.” Isa couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth that laced Clara’s words, calling out in her mind to the baby to please wake up, cry, save her. And in that moment, realizing she was looking from salvation from a newborn, she knew she had to take the weight of this responsibility. She'd done wrong and she had to sit here now and deal with the consequences, no matter how ugly. “I know I was wrong, Clara,” she murmured. “I don’t know how to make it right.” “You fucking can’t,” she seethed. “But you’re goddamn well gonna put on a happy face and fucking try. The press is going to eat this up. I’m trying to talk the boys down from the ledge of breaking up the band. They’re all in shambles right now. Because of you. So no matter what road this goes down, you put on a smile and you do what Zabdiel wants you to do. You fucking owe him that much.” Nothing more needed to be said. Clara had noted her piece and Isabella had no right to contest. After an overly long moment of silence, Clara huffed grabbed her purse before walking out the door. So in a hurry, she barely saw Zabdiel before running into his chest. The man was allowing his normally clean face to prickle with stubble, the bags under his eyes were darkening, and he slouched with a lack of energy his manager had rarely seen in him. “Que fue?” he asked after a moment, his voice hoarse from lack of use. Both restless, they could only continue her path down the hallway rather than sit and discuss. She heaved out a heavy sigh. “Pollito, I didn’t speak to her long. I know you don’t want to right now, but eventually you have to. Even if it’s only to tell her to fuck off and drop dead.” He nodded. “I’m planning the words. Pero… dime que fue, Clara.” She leaned her back against the exit door and looked up at him, cupping his cheek gingerly. "You know I told you that you have to do this delicately, for the sake of your band and your career and your image in the media, we have to handle this in the correct way. Being on your team, I’m going to tell you that now that you’ve released all that anger that you need to try to maintain your calm and your sanity.” His gaze fell to his sneakers, skidding them on the sterile tile just to make idle noise. “I’m trying. I know.” Clara bit her lip with force, unable to stomach seeing the man that had become like a little brother so distraught. She clasped her hand on his shoulder and that jarred him enough to turn his attention directly back to her. “But as your friend, I’m telling you to get a lawyer.” - Chris drummed his fingertips lightly over the stitches on his bottom lip and winced at the instant pain. “And that’s why I told you to be easy on them,” the nurse chirped back as Chris shrugged his shirt on over his bandaged chest. “They’ll heal, but you have to be gentle.” “Yes, sorry,” he repeated, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket to resist the temptation of swiping his finger up over his mouth again. He tried to focus on her instructions as she shuffled his paper file and jotted down her last notes, ignoring that Richard had slipped quietly into the room. “Now the broken ribs,” she continued, “will take a little time to heal. You're definitely going to be sore, but they’re pretty clean fractures so there’s nothing much that can be done for them. It’s going to take a month or two to be back to normal. Just easy on the lifting and choreography for a bit, okay?” He nodded in understanding but Richard scoffed. No words needed to be said for Chris to immediately know what was underlying - who knew if there would ever even be another rehearsal? She disposed of the excess scraps of bandage in the trash and the tools used to stitch his lip into the biohazard box. “Alright then, Mr. Velez, you’re all set. I just need to get the doctor to sign your discharge paperwork and I’ll give you the prescription for pain. Hang tight here for a few minutes and we’ll get you out of here.” Richard didn’t falter from his position as she left, leaning against the wall with his arms across his chest, his eyes transfixed on the sewn sections of his friend’s lip. The bruising around his eye and the bandages around his torso weren’t as prevalent as the swelling and the obvious cut to his face. “How you feeling?” Chris was silent, such a rare occurrence that Richard didn’t know how to proceed, aside from confronting the issue head on. “What are you gonna do about this, man?” Christopher could do nothing but stare at the speckled white and black tiles of the floor. Wanting this to never come to light and now having it erupt so violently and unexpectedly, he wasn’t prepared to deal with the downfall. And everyone around him he cared about was a casualty. Richard huffed and took a wandering step over towards him, his arms still a crossed protective shield over his chest. “Zabdiel is talking about being out. Figured out that Erick knew and doesn’t trust a damn one of us, thinking that we knew and didn’t tell him.” Chris toyed with a stray string on the hem of his shirt to occupy his idle fingers with distraction. Richard nearly growled. “You gonna even speak to me? I might be the only one still willing to hear your side on this and you’re shutting me out?” Chris’ normally loud and boisterous voice was quiet and weak from lack of use. “I don’t know what I can say.” “Not much, cabrón,” Richard scoffed again. “You slept with Isa, man. Her and Zab are married, bro, and you’ve been sleeping with her. How you gonna do that to him, man?” His tense fingers ripped the string from the hemline. “I fell in love with her, hermano. I don’t know… I know it hurt people… But how can I be sorry for falling in love?” He slid his palm down from his forehead to his chin. “Chris, you fucking lied to everybody, man. Everybody. Your best friends. How any of us supposed to trust you again? With anything?” Chris could only answer with silence, so Richard supplied his own.  “They won’t. None of us can. And now it affects everything we do with the band going forward. If Zabdiel even still wants to be a part of the band. He had Clara looking over his fucking contract, man. He wants out and away from you. That changes the band, the media, the fans, everything in all of our worlds are gonna change because you wanted to get your dick wet in somebody else’s bitch.” “Hey, don’t talk about her like that,” he growled lowly. Richard roared in response. “That’s all she is if she fucked you both over like this. She fucked everyone over. The band, her family, our families, our management, our fans, everyone.” Chris gulped deeply. It was true. Their uniting was the drop in the water, and they had forgotten in their effort to hide their secret just how far the resulting ripples could reach. Richard shrugged unapologetically. “I have no other words for her.” Christopher gnawed on his lower lip. “It’s not on her. It’s on me.” “Two to tango, man,” he barked back, frustrated at the impasse of the conversation and walking to the door to leave. “You can’t take all the responsibility just to take the focus off her. You both did it. And now you both have to pay the price for it.” Chris shifted on the edge of the seat and scuffed his sneakers on the sterile checkerboard tile beneath his feet. The fantasy of this staying a secret was only that - a fantasy. The reality was that this discovery was inevitable. It was his debt to settle, but it might be more than he could possibly ever pay. - Kaja hadn’t understood what in Joel snapped that night but now at home where they should be the most comfortable, it was like she wasn’t looking at the man she knew. He was somewhere distant from her now, absorbed in the scrolling of TMZ on his laptop screen. He couldn’t imagine where all the detail and quotes were coming from. There were enough people in the club for word to have now spread that two members of CNCO had fought to the point that police and emergency medical services responded. Conflicting witnesses had stated it was Christopher and Richard, then Richard and Zabdiel, then Erick and Joel. They were citing a ‘source close to the group’ that Chris had admitted to an affair with a married woman that had been carrying on for years. Reports said the source might be reveal more as the story progresses, which Joel had learned by this point meant that whoever was leaking the information was only going to give it to the publishers if they offered more money but they wanted to get the base of the story out while it was hot. “Amor?” Kaja asked, sitting atop the couch cushion beside him. “Hmm?” Joel groaned, not moving his eyes from the focus of the article. The circles of photos scattered throughout now showed snapshots of Krista from when her hair had once had been dyed a rose gold rather than her current bleach blonde, captions asking how this must be destroying her and how she has to feel after the betrayal. Betrayal. The word sat so heavily in his mind, an uncomfortable weight and nausea in his stomach that he hadn’t felt since he was a child. He’d never been open to the idea of love growing up. Seeing his father shatter his mother over and over, they split at the seams until eventually the family was living two separate lives. And that in turn had shattered him. He had no belief or trust that this forever and always that people idolized was a possibility. People fell together only to fall apart. But he saw Isa and Zabdiel. He was there to witness how they met, lost themselves in each other, and began finding so much in common with each other that they melted together as one. They had the wedding, the family, the happily ever after that everyone sought. And now that was shattering the same way. He gnawed on his lower lip, wrinkling his nose with confusion and stress, having tuned out his fiancé’s questions. It took him a moment to shake himself back to reality. “What?” She traced her fingertips up and down the length of his forearm, trying to soothe him. “What’s wrong, babe? I know this has shaken you up. I just want to know what I can do to help.” He pulled his arm back, as if needing to type but just refreshing the webpage. Kaja tilted her head to the side, shock and frustration taking over her sweet disposition. “Joel. I’m trying to be there for you. I get if you don’t want to talk, but there’s no need for you to treat me like this.” His stare didn’t waver from the screen. “I’m not treating you like anything, Kaj,” he said in a tone so even that it unnerved her. She began gently, “Bab-“ but was quickly interrupted. “It’s fine,” he spat. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that Clara basically wants us to step up and act chill and natural to be damage control for something I played no part in. At the same time, I’m trying to figure out how many times I’ve been lied to by the people I’ve looked at as my second family. How the fuck am I supposed to function when everything I’ve known is a lie?” She reached for his hand but he immediately recoiled. Nevertheless, she attempted again. “Baby. I know this disenchants a lot for you, but what you need right now is to rely on what you have around you.” He scoffed. “And what do I have? My band was my brothers, I can’t trust them. My actual brothers? They’ve seen this happen before, they already think I’m foolish.” She now leaned back from her proximity to him. “Foolish for what?” He slammed his laptop shut and stood up. “For trying to make the happy ending happen when that’s nothing but a fantasy.” Kaja began stammering, his words stinging harder than a slap to the face. “How can you say that? How do you see what’s happened to them and not think what we have is real?” He pushed himself up from the couch, stalking off into the kitchen and swiping a Pepsi can off of the shelf. “We all get wound up with the fairy tale ideas we learn from Disney movies as kids, but we all need to grow the hell up and realize that it isn’t reality. It’s bullshit.” Kaja shut her eyes, wincing in pain from the lashing of his words. “Baby. Please just take a breath and talk to me. I mean… Yeah, I get this is jarring, but you want to marry me. We’re having a family.” “Yeah, well,” he seethed after a long swig from the can, “we all make mistakes, don’t we?” Her voice raised, wanting nothing more than to shake sense into him and have him see reason. “So, what? Now that you see somebody else’s relationship falling apart, you decide you want to sabotage ours?” “It’s not just them, Kaja,” he growled. “It’s everyone I’ve ever known. It doesn’t matter how hard you try at something or how long you work at it. I don’t know why I’m putting so much effort into something that is only going to inevitably fall apart.” “Joel, just because that happened to them doesn’t mean it’ll happen to us. You’re not making any sense, baby,” she implored. “No, believe me, baby,” he laughed weakly, “I’m thinking clearly for the first time in a long time.” She didn’t know whether to give in to the desire to scream or burst into hysterical tears. “Joel, you’re confused and upset, I get it. But why punish me when I haven’t done anything to you?” He wanted to throw something. He wanted to slam, to break, to shatter, and would settle for doing it to something else. Without realizing, the destruction he was doing was simply more emotional than physical damage. But he settled for picking up his car keys as he stormed to the door, turning to scream back at her. “Right now, I don’t trust fucking anyone, and I need a break from this. From the band, from the public, and from whatever we are. I’m done.” - Isa opened her eyes again, having nodded off again from the sheer physical exhaustion. The medication to ease her discomfort was only superficial. Aside from her body still in recovery, the delivery room still felt too sterile, too foreign to truly be comfortable. The only thing that made it feel like home was her newborn baby, now resting quietly in the clear containment bassinet in the corner. It didn’t take long for her to notice the slight movement of the shadowed form in the corner by the window. She was sure she should be the first to speak, but her tongue couldn’t form any words. “You’ve lied to me enough. I deserve the truth now,” Zabdiel began, still staring at the bassinet and avoiding her eyes at all costs, one leg propped up on his windowsill seat and one arm wrapped about his leg. “I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to be honest for once. La verdad entera.” “Zabdiel,” she pleaded weakly, as if begging to avoid the confrontation, but no longer had the strength in her to fight. “Amor.” “How long?” he said flatly. “Please, Zabdiel,” she whispered. He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Isabella, we have to talk about it. It’s either here alone right now or in a more public venue later. Your choice.” Her only answer was the slow sigh she let out, acquiescing to his insistence. Zabdiel idly tapped his fingertips against his bent knee. “How long has this been happening? You and him?” Isa gulped, the truth about to spill out tasting like vinegar on her tongue. He chuckled softly, spitefully. “You ever hear from your parents when you were a child, Isabella, that ripping the band-aid off quickly is easier and less painful?” As his fingers drummed on his lap, she found her own hand toying with her locket, the memory of their union dancing in her hand. She began slowly, “After Joaquin was born. When you started going to the studio more, I felt lonely, and -“ “I asked you a simple question. I didn’t ask for your excuses too,” he asserted lowly. His aggression so rare, she was instantly silenced. “So how many times do you think you had to lie to me to do something with him?” She gnawed on her lip, her eyes welling with tears. She couldn’t begin to fathom the questions that were going through his mind, how she would be questioning herself if the situation were reversed. “Don’t take your time sugar-coating it, Isabella. Just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.” He turned to look at her, and his face immediately cringed with venom on disgust. And in that moment, how she would have given anything to even have him call her the Izzy nickname that she detested rather than have him force such distance with his words. “I really don’t know.” “Too many to count. I get it,” he spat. “So you have no way of knowing if the baby is mine or not?” Isa shook her head sadly and shut her eyes tight but couldn’t get a word out. He ran his hand down his face, frustrated and drained, but the anger bubbled up again. “Carajo, puta, contéstame cuando te hablo.” She choked as she tried to speak. “She’s yours, Zabdiel, te lo juro.” “Y Joaquin?” “Si, Zabdiel, he’s yours, y ya tu lo sabes,” she implored. His head whipped around and his eyes blazed. “Yo no sé nada. I still don’t know if I can believe that if every other word you’ve said to me our entire time together has been a lie. So forgive me if I can’t take your word.” She now was trying to avoid the fire and venom in his gaze, but for the fleeting moment that they met she saw that his eyes were also full with tears he was too proud to let fall. "So did you ever care about me at all or was it just easier to marry me when you were having a baby?” “Zabdiel, you know I love you,” she murmured. “I don’t know a goddamn thing,” he roared, jolting upright and leaning over the bottom of the bed. “If you loved me or you ever did, you wouldn’t have done this to me. Ever.” He braced himself with his white-knuckled hands on the rails at the bottom, willing himself to maintain his composure. A tear passed over her eyelid and cascaded down her cheek. “Zabdiel. I’m sorry.” He grit his teeth. “You betrayed me. I trusted you with my life any my heart and my family. The fact that you did such a thing with a man I considered my brother… I don’t know how to forgive.” She nodded in understanding, sucking on her lower lip, in no position to argue. “It’s clear you’re in love with someone else. And I’m not fighting. If you really loved me, you never would have done anything with him in the first place.” His stare fell now to the newborn, now stirring from sleep with the loud voices. “Does she have a name yet?” Isa nodded again, her mouth too dry to get it out at first. “Si... Xiomara Noemi… I know we’d talked about that one for a girl… “ Zabdiel’s expression softened as he studied her, his defenses still up too high to allow for any affection. She explained, “They asked for the birth certificate to be done, so I had to write in what we had decided. I only need your signature on it.” He turned back to her. “Right now,” he snarled, “we do nothing until we’re sure she’s mine. Then we can discuss custody.” No other words needed to be exchanged. That was enough for Isa. She knew with that there would be no resolution. “Zabdi… mi vida, I am sorry.” Zabdiel shrugged, his face now void of any emotions it once held, no anger and no pain. “It’s fine, Isabella. It’s over. And besides, it’s not like I’ve been faithful to you either. The difference is I didn’t bring a child into it.” He walked to the door and gave a soft sarcastic smile back over his shoulder before walking out of the room and down the hall.

-

chapter 13 is now here.

[inkycrowwrites]

Imagine Jonathan Crane saving you

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x reader

A/N: We’re back! And it’s my number one boy’s birthday! A few days ago I promised I would write something for today, so here we are (this story is slightly based on a creepy story I heard on a video a long time ago, If I ever encounter it again I’ll tag it). I’m planning on writing again, because fuck depression! I’ll work on some things some people asked for and then we’ll officially open requests. Again, if you find any grammar mistakes or feel like I forgot to include a warning please let me know at my main blog @regipumpkin. Thank you for reading!

Warnings: Cursing, assault attempt.

Your family never had a lot of money growing up. It actually wasn’t all that bad, your parents and sister loved you very very much and that was enough, but now that you finally finished High School you needed to move out.

The town you grew up in didn’t even have its own college so Gotham was the cheapest and closest option. It took you a whole year and a half to convince them to let you go, that college was the only way you could finally study animal genetics. Ripping your dream away from you would break their hearts.

A friend of your sister got you a job at his uncle’s sketchy motel on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t very pretty but as long as you kept the rooms clean you could stay free of charge and eat dinner for free as a housekeeper. It was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Things went smoothly for the first months. Sure, working and studying a career at the same time wasn’t easy, but you’ve been helping support your family since you were sixteen, even now you still send them your tips.

A couple of weeks ago while cleaning a room, you found a trail of blood coming from the bathroom. The three men that stayed at the room had left hours ago and thankfully, for your sanity, that was the only piece of evidence they left behind. You dropped everything and ran to the front desk for help. When the manager saw your pale face he just smirked and said “welcome to Gotham”. The police came to ask you a few questions, but just like the other employees told you to repeat, you didn’t see anything, that was the answer that would keep you safe. The police didn’t bat an eye, they seemed to be used to people not answering questions.

Now Friday night was finally here, your teachers had mercy on you and asked for a small essay which you had already finished and your shift was over, or so you thought. As you reached the front desk to leave your equipment your manager told you that the other house keeper had to leave because of an emergency. This wasn’t something she did often as she had two kids and had to provide for them, you only hoped that everything was alright back home.

She left her cart at the third building, the one farther from the office, and thankfully only one room to clean, the one at the end of the hall. As you scrubbed the shower you heard loud laughter from the next room, your first thought was that they were probably drunk, perfect, more cleaning tomorrow.

When the room was finally done you felt exhausted, you locked the room and pushed the cart. The pretty lights from the city caught your attention, perhaps Gotham wasn’t that bad, you had to admit it had a certain grisly charm. The wheels got stuck in the carpet and as you pushed harder it collided into the next room’s door with a loud bang. The voices from inside the room immediately went silent. The door opened slightly and a man peeked from the inside “what do you want?”

“It was an accident, sir. The stupid cart, sorry to bother you”

The man opened the door completely with a smile on his face, you recognized him from the other day, he was one of the men who left the bloodied room.

“No harm done sweetheart. You hungry? We got some pizza and booze here, wanna have some fun?”

“I need to go”, was the only thing your fear allowed you to mutter. You lowered your head and kept pushing the cart as fast as you could. A tight grip on your arm coerced you to let out a distressed shriek “don’t be such a tease, babe. You’ll break my heart”

“We promise you’ll have fun” spoke a second voice from inside the room.

Tears formed at the edge of your eyes, you screamed for help. With all your strength you kicked him in the shin and ran leaving everything behind.

“GET BACK HERE BITCH!” Two of them came behind you. And like a beam of hope a door of one of the rooms opened. Your instinct screamed at you to get in and so you did, crashing into someone, you didn’t have time to apologize, you slammed the door but right before you could lock it, the men barged in. They dragged you out as you kicked and screamed “please! No! Let me go please!”. The last glimpse you had of that room was a whole chemistry set on the sink and the room desk along with some strangely colored lights, the person you collapsed into was nowhere to be found.

The man on your right suddenly collapsed to the ground, you turned to look at him, he squirmed scratching at his neck pathetically. Then the one at your left fell too, wheezing painfully. A tall, slim shadow stood between you and the third man “Stay away from me! Fucking freak!” the man screamed as he pulled out a gun, “ah, but ‘freak’ is such an underappreciated compliment”. The shadow threw something at the ground and a yellow cloud engulfed them, you backed away as much as you could and covered your mouth and nose. Just as you expected the third man screamed bloody murder and dropped the gun to the floor. The cloud dissipated, the tall man took a cloth out of his coat and pressed it against the man’s face.

“Shush, not yet”. After a few moments the man fell silent.

As you stared at them you felt dizzy and a little disoriented. You had to lean against the balcony bar to keep your balance. You caught the man’s attention, he turned to you and walked with long cautious steps, each time you felt more and more anxious. He stared at you with piercing blue eyes through brown unattended hair, you felt obliged to break the silence.

“Thank you for-for saving me”

“But we aren’t done yet, dear”. He pulled a new needle and you panted as a knot formed in your throat. “May I ask for a favor, miss?” you nodded nervously. “Help me get these gentlemen back to their room, they came to me like a gift. It’s an opportunity I can’t ignore”. You collected yourself and helped him drag them, in your position running wasn’t an option.

As you helped him with the third man your foot bumped into something, it was the lost gun from earlier. You stared at it, he stopped too, curious about your next move. You left it there and continued. If it weren’t for his help...you preferred to ignore the thought.

This time he was the one to break the silence, “Do you happen to know anything about chemistry?”

“No” you lied, he sighed in response “of course you don’t. What a shame, I guess you’re of no use to me anymore” again he toyed with the syringe in his long fingers and smiled at you.

“Off you go, dear” he walked you back to the hall. You simply stared at him with wide eyes in disbelief. This was just a trick, he was playing with you.

“Ah! I know what you want” he turned to the table in the room, took the wallet of one of the men and gave you $20 “there you go, have a good night. By the way, if I were you I wouldn’t call the cops, for your own safety”

“Yes sir” you gulped and walked away turning to look at him a few times. He simply putted one of his long knotty fingers on his lips as if to shush you and stared with an eerie look until you lost him at the turn.

Needless to say, you didn’t catch any sleep that night. Constantly peeking through the curtains searching for anything unusual. Not even the police lights you were getting used to illuminating your room came.

When the sun finally rose you felt slightly safer. You got out of bed and walked to the diner for breakfast, you still had the same clothes from last night but at least if you collected your food the rest of the employees wouldn’t suspect that something was wrong with you.

They gave you the usual, eggs with bacon. It was the usual for you because it was the cheapest dish they could feed you. Your stomach still felt sick from last night, you took your food to go along with a cup of coffee and walked over to your room.

But your feet took you somewhere else, when your mind snapped back to reality you found yourself in the building from last night right in front of that man’s door. He was probably gone by now, after what he did you would do the same, but then a wild stupid idea went through your head and you knocked on the door. Immediately regretting it the need to run away almost took over you, but the door opened before you could back away. He stood inside with a stoic expression. The only light in the room came through the door, behind him laid a body from last night. You felt neutral towards that.

When he realized it was you again he seemed slightly surprised “Yes?”

“I brought you breakfast, sir”

“I never requested room service” he seemed slightly pissed “no, sir. It’s not that-”

“Open it” he commanded, you took the food container out of the paper bag and showed him “bacon and everything” you smiled slightly, “I swear it’s not poisoned. It’s a thank you gift, for saving me last night”. He bowed his head a little and laughed with a low voice “You’re not from Gotham, correct?” Surprisingly he took the food and coffee anyway and nodded as if to say he appreciated it.

“Wait sir! The maid in charge of this building, her shift starts at 8 o'clock. I thought you would like to know in case you-”

“I’ll be gone by then”. You nodded and turned around to go back to your room. Just like before he stared at you as you left, except that this time when you looked back at him he looked away from your gaze and closed the door. Your instinct told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you encountered him.

[miseryofrobin]

( Sophie Turner, Cisfemale, she/her ) ⌇ have you seen Robin Walden around icaria? they are the 24 years old child of Oizys and Huntress of Artemis. they remind me of Dangerous bar fights, lingering cigarette smell and having the worst day of your life. They’ve been on the island for 3 DAYS.

Ah yes, here I am making a character for people to love to hate. My dearest Robin

- Daughter of Oizys, a goddess who was such a bad omen to people that they refused to worship her made for interesting character development. It’s not every day that someone can say they are physically related to the embodiment of anxiety and depression without having some massive issues. 

- she is the embodiment of god has let me live another day so I’m making it everyones problem. Robin thrives off of the misery of others, so she will break any heart she can get and step on others just to see them cry. She might fool you at first into thinking you’re her friend just so she can find out all your insecurities, and then use that information to ruin you. 

- the only people she will have an ounce of respect for is anyone part of Artemis Hunters. Sure she might be a bitch here and there to those in her group but has line she won’t cross unless she absolutely wants to.  Of course being a huntress, and being in the close circle of Artemis means she’s a deadshot with a bow, but Robin likes to use her fists and words do the talking most of the time.

- She has come to the island to be an annoyance. For ex hunters and distressed demigods during the rift in particular. 

I’ll leave the bio here too but the points above are pretty much the sum of her character atm:  

Enjoying the misery of others is not something someone would wish upon another being, and yet ever since day one it has been Robin Walden’s greatest enjoyment. From the moment she was born it was never ending troubles for her father, and Oizys was no help with discouraging the behavior. The goddess was involved in her daughters life in a strange way, mostly one showing up on the occasion to remind Robin of who she was which accidentally led to a overly fed ego. Once she grew out of non stop crying as a baby, it turned into more intentional distress of bullying and fighting. Even when her poor father tried to start a new mortal family Robin made sure her step mother and siblings were in constant torment of her as long as they were under the same roof. Why try being apart of some nuclear mortal family when you’re the child of a god? One could say the root of the problem was because deep down Robin was constantly in her own turmoil of depressive emotions, and putting down others for her enjoyment was a chance to let it all out. If asked about it though the blonde would deviously smile and chuckle out a, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The constant need to belittle and destroy people didn’t help with her social life and day to day ventures either. Robin was always being pulled into the principals office because she made some kid cry or caused a fight amongst peers. No authority figures could ever set her on the right path due to the difficulty and being outright scared of her, which was great for her hobby of committing petty crimes for the hell of it. She didn’t do the crimes for any gain other than causing a more toxic environment for the people around her, and once that habit was piled onto her many issues it was the last straw that kicked her out of the house as a teenager.  

It took a year of Oizys watching her daughter cause problems amongst the streets to finally step in. The red flags were too much for her to even bare, so she picked her up, and offered her the idea of joining Artemis huntresses in an attempt to find her a place where she belonged. With nothing left to loose Robin took her up on the suggestion, thinking that it would be a walk in the park.

In the beginning Robin went about her usual antics of being a terror in the group, until one especially bad misstep  had her immediately put in her place by Artemis. That day she gained respect for the goddess, and while she was still known as the problem child amongst the group she became obsessed with earning her spot as a huntress so she could be close to her. Every day she pushed herself to be better than the other hunters, and possibly caused some emotional distress in the process of climbing to the top. No fantasy of love would get in her way since she would rather hit it and quit it than betray the goddess, and any member that dropped because of such a stupid reason was considered dirt under her boot.

A recent falling out with one of the members who decided to run from the huntresses has led her to Icaria, and while she notified Artemis that she was purely going to the island to help mediate the current fight amongst the demigods, her true intentions always fall back on causing as much grief as possible.

[techouspeaks]

Top 13 Characters I Hate That Everyone Else Likes!

There are many characters we all hate and often times, we’re not the lone strangers when it comes to hating them. There are characters that are practically made to be hated on. Than there are characters in which everyone seems to enjoy but I for one can’t stand and this is it. From number 13 (which is basically grating) to number 1 down right I can’t fathom why anyone likes this character, here are my top list of characters I despise but everyone seems to like.

Rule’s for this list. I’m only listing characters that people really do like for whatever reason. I’m not gonna be listing characters that everyone does hate such as Angelica Pickles from Rugrats. I don’t care for that character either, but I’m pretty sure she was made to get under people’s skin. These are characters that people do enjoy, even if some were meant to be annoying or unlikable. I will be also including anime, western animation, comics and movies (Though these will be from animation, not live action.) and only from media I like. There is no point of putting characters from shows I don’t like.

Warning there will be some mild cussing. I try not to cuss so much in these. These are mainly characters from kid’s media, however, there is one from a comic that is aimed more for older audiences so just a heads up.

As usual if you like these characters, that’s perfectly fine. This is just my opinion and I hold nothing against anyone from liking or even loving these characters. So let’s get started!

13. Jeremy and Angie from Digimon Fusion

I’m gonna be brief with these two as they’re mainly annoying and kinda pointless, than actual hate. These two I just felt very little purpose to the team and shoot, they didn’t even get their own digimon until the near end. That and that horrible dance and singing sequence episode “Rumble in the Jungle Zone”, just made me annoyed at them even more...

12. Meilin from Cardcaptors/Cardcaptor Sakura

Again I just find her mostly pointless than I actually hate her. I would have put Sakura here because of her voice, but that’s because I only dislike Sakura in Japanese because of her voice. I like her as a character.  Meilin is just well...There. That’s it. You could have taken her out and there wouldn’t be much of a difference. I feel like she was just made to prove Syaoran isn’t a complete loner and actually has someone that does like him back home. 

11. Jeri from Digimon Tamers

What can I say about her? She creepily talks through a puppet on her hand, ironically at first acts like the boys are weird for constantly liking Digimon despite she talks through a puppet and of course getting into Digimon despite not wanting to at first. Gets depressed because her Digimon is killed, thus becomes a damsel puppet for the D-Reaper to get stronger and well did I mention she talks creepily through a falking puppet?! I don’t blame her for being depress and obviously, she probably suffers from something like autism and of course, the loss of her mother, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her. I found her again, pointless, creepy and annoying. She just became a thing for the Tamers to rescue when she should have just stayed a side character.

10. Toralei from Monster High

Out of all the characters in Monster High, Toralei has to be the weakest. She doesn’t change or go through any development. All she does is just cause trouble so something can happen within the series or in the movie. She’s self centered and a brat. Least with Cleo, she developed and matured and became more humble. The only change Toralei ever had was that she stopped having lackies around. I guess even they know that Toralei is not worth hanging around. 

They got rid of her in the reboot but just gained a character that’s just like her.

 : /

9. Bibury from Kira Kira Precure A La Mode

She’s got a creepy smile and her face always seems off. She’s also annoying and the fact she wants to basically falk a shadow creature thing is just disturbing. I get being down right loyal but it seems she’s got more feelings than being a loyal servant to Mr. Shadow thing...... 

8. Binkie and Steelbeak from Darkwing Duck

Putting both because they’re from the same series. I have another one like this. Let’s start with Binkie.

Binkie is blindly self centered in away. She often acts like her way of doing things is the best way and whenever she tries to help, it just makes things worse. Though, my hatred stems for the fact that Binkie tried to change Gosalyn into something she is not. A dainty little girl and worse, made Drake feel bad for not raising her as a “perfect little lady”. Yes, she basically follows the stereotype of a house wife and believes all young women should be pretty, sweet little things. I don’t mind when girls are sweet and motherly. I don’t approve of forcing people into being something they are not.

Steelbeak I hate because he’s one of the most annoying villains. That laugh and his voice just grate on me, not to mention his smug attitude. I get villains are kinda suppose to be like that, but when you combine that attitude with that voice and laugh....You get the most annoying things on the show next to Binkie!

 The only time I like him is in the comics and the Negaverse fanfics that feature him helping the Friendly Four out, but mainly because I can’t hear his voice and in the fanfictions of course, he’s not as pampas. That and I just didn’t find remotely interesting compared to the rest of Darkwing’s most colorful baddies. He just felt like a bond villain wannabe. 

7. “The Dark Magicians” aka “The Annoying Stooges” from Maho Tsukai Precure!

First off, they dare call themselves “Dark Magicians”. That alone is an insult to Dark Magician from Yugioh, shame on you Toei! 

Second, these guys are the worst villains in recent Precure series! They are incompetent, they can’t do anything right and worse, they’re the reason why Orba, the actual kickass villain died! The better, handsome and more redeemable villain died while these guys got revived and a second chance at life! These guys didn’t do anything remotely redeemable and finally, Sparda (the witch spider there) is a rip off of Arukenimon from Digimon! So she’s not even that original...She does the exact same things as Arukenimon does, just more incompetent!

6. Sailor Neptune and Uranus from Sailor Moon (Old Anime)

They would have been good if they weren’t bitches! Omg! In the manga, they were decent, in fact, I love Haruka/Uranus in the manga and Crystal anime! In the old anime, these two were just intolerable especially near the end of their debut season and Sailor Stars. They turned on Sailor Moon, they turned on their own companions and take their missions way too far.

At least in the manga and Crystal versions, they showed they wanted to be friends with the other sailors and they viewed Sailor Moon as their true princess. They valued the other scouts as equals. 

In the old anime, all that’s thrown out the window. “We’re better than you because we need to make the ultimate sacrifice. Something you kids can’t understand...” Despite the inners and Sailor Moon died like twice saving their world. Where were you two again when the moon kingdom was under attack, you stupid bitches?

5. Yakumo from Shinzo

Normally, I try to avoid hating characters from being weak and not able to fight, because let’s face it. That’s realistic. Especially if they’re motherly and kind, that’s always a spiritual strength to stay humble in the face of those that abuse you.

However, when your path for peace constantly makes you blind and gullible enough to trust others, not realizing what’s going on in your surroundings. Also to the point of scorning your friends for fighting, despite they’re constantly trying to make sure you don’t die on your very important mission for peace, yeah you deserve every single hate coming to you and that is what exactly Yakumo deserves!

All she ever does in the dang series is preach about peace and not realizing she lives in a hostile world where many  will take advantage of her, because supposedly she’s the last human being and they want her dead! There are episodes where she outright abandons her friends, to follow another person whom she just met, if they make her believe she will help them out best or if they convince her they can help her without the use of violence. Not to mention she is constantly a damsel in distress. I get being weak and not being able to fight, but at least learn to be more cautious and smart to avoid getting yourself in danger! Human beings are weak in general but there are ways with using your head to keep you safe.

With Yakumo, she doesn’t seem to have a brain in her head! She constantly gets herself in trouble and everytime she scorns Mushra, I want to slap her and tell her “Bitch, you’re living in a hostile world, everyone here wants to falking kill you! You better be grateful you teamed up with those who want to protect your sorry ass and don’t want to turn you into mince meat, because you’re not gonna bring peace to anyone if you’re dead! But maybe there will be peace when you’re dead because you would shut up!”

I HATED her so much that it was always hard to watch this fairly decent and creative series! I like Shinzo and many of the characters in it, as well as the designs and concepts of the creatures that inhabit in it. However, Yakumo just makes it insufferable so many times! Say what you will about Binka, her little follower but at least Binka, despite blindly following Yakumo, is a rather fun to watch character! Binka’s adventurous and can fend for herself. She can be a bit of brat, but that’s easily understandable for her age. Binka isn’t even a teenager so she’s gonna be a little bit bratty. That’s kids! Yakumo is just obnoxious and what Mushra/Mushrambo or anyone else sees in her, I will never know!

4. Gaston from Beauty and the Beast (Both movies)

No one is annoying as Gaston!

No one is overrated like Gaston!

No one is a disgusting, pompous pig like Gaston! 

You don’t have to be a feminist to see exactly what I mean!

Seriously, I’ve been sexually harassed in real life and this guy, while doesn’t do that, he comes close to it. The new movie makes him worse as he smiles smugly when he is turned down, thinking he can get the woman he wants. (Though, being Emma Watson is playing the lead in the live action film, honestly, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s getting himself into. So quite frankly he deserves her.) He treats women as a trophy and yeah, I get he’s suppose to be unlikable, a lot of people like him as a villain. Quite frankly, you can give me Myotismon or even Julio from Cross Ange. Least even when Julio attacks others with his fleet, he gets his coming in the end and is quite hilarious when things don’t go his way.

That and though the song is fun to parody as, it’s the weakest of the original film’s score. I always mute when his song comes on because I can’t honestly stand it really. Yea, in terms of revelation, Gaston at the time, was a game changer for villains. He was not powerful, not evil until he was pushed enough and it showed that anyone can be like Gaston (ironic to his song). However, that doesn’t stop me from hating him and being mind boggled at why people love this character. I never found him funny, engaging or interesting. He’s just annoying and I’m glad they tossed him to a fitting end!

3. Etemon from Digimon Digital Monsters/Adventure 01

Put two of my most hated things together (Elvis impersonators and monkeys) and you get the most annoying thing to date! He can’t sing, he’s cringy to watch especially in his mega form where he’s naked for some reasons...Why this character is liked is beyond me! There’s a reason why when some people mention good Digimon villain, Etemon is almost never one of them. His arc actually could have been edited to where Datamon was the real mastermind and done less painfully quicker.

When he comes back, there is absolutely no point to him! None! The other Digidestined don’t even face him! He just comes around, gets tortured by the more better Puppetmon and then gets killed by Saberleomon and Zudomon! He does nothing but kill Leomon! That’s it! Well done Bandai! We didn’t need a good character with a killer design in his evolution form! Just give us a metal monkey that can’t sing and is completely pointless!

Whenever the Digimon 1st series did a rerun, I would wait and not watch the episodes of Etemon’s arc. Thank the heavens, we got Myotismon after this guy! He was an improvement, especially since I had feared what Digimon would become after dealing with this weak, annoying pathetic digimon! I was just about to throw in the towel until finally Myotismon shows up and makes things interesting again!

2. Jimmy From Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

Got a question. Why the hell do people like this character!? He’s like Gaston if he was a wuss in the body anyway and Disney somehow allowed him to rape and murder people. That’s basically what Jimmy is and yet, so many fans of JTHM like this character. I have him in my fanfic but guess what? He’s constantly tortured and keeps losing in my fanfic, because he doesn’t deserve anything more than to be tortured and not redeemed for his crimes. 

Not to mention, but it was believed he was made by Jhonen Vasquez (the same dude who did Invader Zim) as away to tell fans that just wanted Johnny to be a mindless killer, to falk off! He is repulsive and deserved what Johnny did to him in the end. 

Yet in spite of that, people somehow still like him in the fandom and some even pair him up with Johnny, who hates him as much as I do. It’s sad because I like Eric, yes, Eric can be pompous too but he didn’t rape and stalk people. He killed one kid with his giant fang but that was played out for laughs and it’s actually unclear if that kid died. Eric is redeemable and can be likable if given proper development. Sadly, Eric gets kicked to the curb where no one seems to know him despite, showing up twice and even making a cameo in a Invader Zim episode, thus making more appearances than Jimmy. Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be redeemed ever and it still mind boggles me that people draw fan art of him, not getting his ass raped by a saw blade! 

Before I get to number one, let me give  quick dishonorable mentions.

1# Ciel/Cure Parfait from Kira Kira Precure A La Mode

Honestly, I hate her Precure design and think she can hit the Mary Sue levels at times, but Ciel as a character is at least humble and kind, so I don’t hate her.

2# Most of the characters of Cross Ange

Left them out because too many to count.

3# Characters from shows I hate such as Spongebob Square Pants, Jimmy Neutron, Fairy Oddparents, Teen Titans Go, CatDog and Adventure Time.

4# Angelica from Rugrats/All Grown Up (Who actually likes this character?)

Now...The number 1 character I hate but everyone else likes is...

1. Diaspro from Winx Club 

Ugh!!!!!! Where do I even begin with this freakin character! She’s like if Angelica grew up, gain powers and actually became a princess. All she ever does in the series is cause problems because she wants Sky! She wants to marry Sky and have him all to herself and you know, it’s clearly for lust and power purposes. Sky is a prince and marrying him, she gets to be queen with a “hot king”. If she actually cared for Sky, she would have just let them be in the series and move on. 

However, she doesn’t. Since season 1, all she does is be some love rival for Bloom. Some people say she deserves Sky more than Bloom. I beg to differ. She’s endangered lives, even the whole dimension just so she can have Sky to herself and it doesn’t matter who she hurts or nearly kills. She should be locked away in the Omega Dimension for her crimes! Not just banished but truly locked away there for all eternity! 

As said she does not care for Sky. She just wants him for power and as a trophy and you know she doesn’t truly love him, because she tries to manipulate him and take advantage over him losing his memories! Someone that truly knows and deserves love wouldn’t do such a thing. 

An excuse is “She’s lonely and might not have a good family” as some fans have speculate. Her family was devastated when they thought she was kidnapped! She’s a spoiled little rich girl! That’s it! And there are plenty of characters that are lonely and can be stuck up but develop more as a character. Stella for instance. Aisha! You got plenty of princesses that have been lonely and yet develop to be better!

Not to mention she doesn’t even try to change. Her last appearance was in season 6. 6 years and not bothering to change at all! Still wanting “her man” instead of growing the hell up and moving on like a grown woman should!

I had heard in the comics she’s quite humble, least not as crazy. I read the comic and that is true she’s not as bad, but still pretty petty and unlikable. Yeah, Bloom gets jealous of her but then she comes to Diaspro’s rescue showing Bloom can put differences a side in the end. Bloom does need to be less jealous and clingy, but at least Bloom’s not trying to kill people for not getting her way. Diaspro out right tries to murder her on several occasions in the show and her pettiness in the comic is just annoying . I get rejection is hard but you gotta move on some time. That’s life!

Not to mention, she is voiced by the ever stuck up, can’t get over herself Ariana Grande for most of the Nick’s seasons. I like Ariana’s singing but she’s like her character. She needs to falking get over herself because she’s got nothing on Celine Dion and Alicia Keys in terms of talent and personality.

Seriously, if you like her, I just don’t get it. Me, I personally would have thrown her in the Vortex of Flames in a heartbeat for what’s she’s done. There’s wanting a man and being spoiled. She takes spoiled and obsession to new heights. Every time I see her on Winx, I change the channel!

And that is why, she is my number one most hated character in animation and shoot, media in general!

[meditatemoremedicateless]

Life in Snippets: An Adventure

Summary: Max and Victoria take a daytrip down to Portland to buy Max new clothes (Courtney wasn’t so happy with the outfit Max wore to her first Vortex Club function). After a surprisingly romantic time at the mall, they have ice cream on a hill at Council Crest Park. Things will never be the same between them.

Words: 6,083

Major Tags: Chasefield, Marshfield, Fluff, trans!Victoria, nb!Max

Tagged: @mute-frisk​ @red-zora​ @melonishus​ @priestessamy​ (I think you’ll like this story, Amy, it’s very gay).

Read on AO3 or ff.net

The Page Before: “Friends?”

September 7, 11:20am

Victoria was almost done putting on her face by the time she heard the knock on her door. That must be her.

"Come in, Max," she called, not looking away from the mirror she used on her desk.

The door opened, and there was a bit of hesitation before it closed. Then, "Hey Victoria."

Sure, Victoria couldn't see her, but she knew exactly what Max would be wearing. A t-shirt or tank top along with that infernal sweat shirt, despite the fact that it had been in the high seventies for the entire month. Max never wore anything different, like Taylor before she had discovered sundresses went with jackets. Luckily, Victoria had prepared for this inevitability.

"There's clothes on the bed for you. You and Courtney are the same size, I'm pretty sure, so everything should fit you fine. I'll do your makeup in a sec."

There was no shuffling to get dressed behind her, so Victoria figured Max must be confused. Then Max said, "Uhh? I mean, aren't we going to buy clothes? Why would I need nice clothes or makeup to buy nice clothes and makeup?"

Victoria sighed, setting down her brush and turning in her chair. Of course, Max was dressed precisely as Victoria had imagined, though she didn't think she'd seen the creepy Silence of the Lambs t-shirt before. Gross. Max absolutely could not be left to her own devices.

"Because, Max, we have to see if the nice clothes will look nice on you. That means you should already be wearing something nice so we can see if it'll match. Of course, these aren't your clothes, but they'll at least give us some ideas as we go along. As for the makeup, I want to know how you'll look in total when we go out. And I get that you don't really wear makeup, fine, but if you're going to start going to parties and meeting famous photographers and talking to nice galleries, you're going to have to look more . . . put together."

Max pouted, shoulders sagging as if she was planning on dragging her hands over the ground all day. She said, "I mean, it seems a little misogynist if people are only going to take me seriously when I look nice."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Of course it is, Max. The world is a sexist place, doubly so in industries about appearances. We're not about to change that when nobody even knows our names."

Max crossed her arms over her chest, but gave no protest. "Fine," she responded, "I'll wear Courtney's clothes."

"Thank you Victoria," Victoria chimed as she turned back around to face the mirror.

"'Thank you Victoria,'" Max repeated, and then the shuffling of clothes being pulled off and replaced began.

Once Max had apparently replaced her shirt, Max started to talk over the sound of her zipper. "So, how'd you get so good at all this? Looking good, I mean. I never really got how girls just seemed to pick it up."

Victoria was satisfied with her face, so she moved on to her eyes. "Youtube, mostly, and my mom. I can't really say I had a choice."

Max was done, but there was still a lot of jangling. Moving change between pants, maybe? "What do you mean?"

Hmm, that's right. Max really might not know. She doesn't have much reason to. "Well, you see, my doctor was a real bitch. Back when I was fifteen, and I was looking to get hormones, my doctor refused to prescribe them until I had 'lived experience' as a woman. And, in his eyes, I guess that meant having long hair, wearing skirts every day, and learning to contour, because that's what it took. I had no fucking clue there were even standards of care at the time. I thought that was procedure."

Max was done changing, so she sat down on the bed next to Victoria's desk. "Wow . . . that's some bullshit," she said.

"Don't I know it." Victoria smirked, swiveling her chair to face Max with one eye mostly done, so the left side of her face looked much heavier. "But hey, don't I make such a pretty girl now?"

Victoria swiveled back to her mirror, expecting no response. However, she could see Max nodding out of the corner of her eye. Max said aloud, though so quietly Victoria wasn't sure she knew she was speaking, "You really do."

Victoria refrained from talking further, or looking Max in the eye for a minute until she was done. Once her composure returned, though, she turned towards Max again. "Come on, I'll do you and then we'll go."

"I still don't see why we have to go all the way to Portland," Max whined from the passenger's seat.

They were just passing through Tillamook, the most depressing county seat imaginable, and Victoria was taking the time to enjoy the low speed limit by leaning into the wind out of her window.

Victoria glanced at Max, unable to comprehend literally a single idea that came out of Max's mouth. "Are you serious right now? You spent what, a quarter of your life in Seattle before moving back to this hick ass county and you don't see why we'd go to a city to go shopping?"

Max shrugged. "There are boutiques in the county with nice clothes."

It was kind of dangerous to emote too much while driving, so Victoria settled for a "Uuuuugggghhhhh," followed up with a, "No, they have hand-stitched sundresses made by old grandmas and secondhand Urban Outfitter designs with Navajo patterns on them. God, Max, did you even leave your house while you were in Washington?"

Now Max looked annoyed. "Yes, Victoria. I was just never very interested in vanity."

Victoria grinned, putting on a more nasally voice, "'I'm not like other girls.'"

"Got that right," Max laughed, the annoyance disappearing from her face as fast as it had appeared.

"Well," Victoria said, "maybe you should have. Vanity suits you."

Max was still smiling, though an unfamiliar look crept onto her face. She was hard to read, given how little she ever animated. "You think so?" she asked.

"Would I be buying you clothes if I didn't?"

Max sunk back into her seat, elbow up on the window sill, though hers wasn't rolled down all the way. She looked cocky. It was a good look on her, just like Courtney's clothes were. Max could be cute. It was too bad she didn't seem to know that.

September 7, 2:52pm

It had been like an hour. It turned out Max had bigger commitment issues with clothes than Courtney's dad had to her mom.

"Yes! Okay, yes, it's cute. God, okay, Max, it's gorgeous, just please, please decide on something to buy."

Max had eschewed everything too feminine once they'd arrived at Pioneer Place and started going through the clothing stores. Victoria had never really been interested in men's fashion, beyond the extent she'd had to wear a suit on occasion after turning twelve or so for gallery showings and things like that. It was hard trying to mash up her stylistic preferences along with Max's absolute assertion that her pants be from the men's section, because 'they're so comfy, and the pockets are endless!' They'd spent the better part of the hour switching between clingy, arms-length shirts and tops, ignoring Max's interest in a leather jacket. Nobody wore a fucking leather jacket in Arcadia Bay or at art events and it would just look weird.

Max's head cocked to the side curiously. She didn't seem frustrated, which was how she had responded the past six times or so Victoria had announced that an outfit was adequate. "Do you really think it's gorgeous?" she asked.

Victoria sighed, slumping back against the changing room hall's wall. Max was trying on a striped, slightly see-through shirt very similar to Courtney's preferred casual look, though she'd paired it with a cardigan with thick, contrasting lines around the edges. Max looked pretty, very pretty, but like everything else, she was concerned that it was too girlish. Victoria put her hand to her temple where a headache was rapidly coming on. "Yes, Max, I do. You look good in everything - you're skinny and small, so everything fits you, you look a little professional but not so much that you're overdoing it, the cardigan even matches your lipstick, and while you may have no butt, you're wearing boy jeans, so it's not like anyone would notice if you did."

Max's mouth pinched into a point. It looked a little silly with how her lipstick was smeared (she touched her face constantly), but Victoria could tell she was mulling something over. She turned back around to her stall, looking herself over again.

"Are you sure I'm pretty enough? Like this works?"

Victoria had never seen Max like this. It was no wonder that she avoided vanity - it seemed to make her distressed very easily.

Victoria took a few steps forward so Max could see her face in the mirror. "Of course you're pretty, Max. You were pretty the whole time. I think the thing that's bothering you is that you don't want to be pretty."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, clearly confused.

Victoria exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. She pinched her own sweater, trying to make an example. "Look," she said, "beauty is all about gender conformity, right? People find women beautiful when they highlight everything about them that is meant to mark them as women. The beauty is in the binary, and you hate that."

Max turned around slowly. As Max looked up at her, Victoria became keenly aware of the short distance between them. Max was so pretty. But was it wrong of Victoria to try and make her be? Even if, from every angle she looked at it, she was looking out for Max?

"But don't you hate that?" Max asked. She didn't seem upset, like Victoria had expected. She seemed . . . gentle. Hesitant. Meek, even, like an animal trying to guess whether Victoria were friendly or not.

Victoria swallowed, then nodded. "I mean, of course I do, Max. But I also love being beautiful, and I love people knowing that I'm beautiful. Wanting it to be some other way doesn't make it so."

Max's eyebrows furrowed as she got lost in thought, staring right past Victoria. A woman pushed past them with a huge handful of items, entering the stall at the end. After a pause, Victoria laid a hand on Max's shoulder to get her attention. When Max looked back up, remembering that she was there, Victoria said quietly, "You know what I did almost as soon as I could walk freely after my bottom surgery? When I didn't need any more approval from any more doctors and any more therapists to look like myself?"

Max shook her head.

Victoria reached up, running her fingers through her cropped hair. "I cut off all my hair. I had grown it out for four years. I styled it almost every day. And as soon as I could, I chopped it all off and bleached it." Victoria paused for a second, then continued, "I always hated having long hair."

Max raised her hand slowly, hesitantly, towards Victoria's hair. She paused partway, as if asking for approval, and Victoria nodded.

As she ran her hand through Victoria's hair, she whispered, "That's too bad. I think I would like your hair long . . . it's so beautiful." Sensing Victoria's discomfort, perhaps, Max continued, "But that's not for me to decide."

Victoria wanted to kiss Max, she knew that much. She couldn't tell if it was because of how delicate Max's touch was, or the way she was looking into her eyes, or that Victoria had revealed something personal, or just that they were so close. Victoria had this impulse sometimes, of course, but she'd never known how to act on it. The only girl she had ever kissed . . . she had seen it in her eyes, Victoria was sure. She couldn't imagine any other reason why else she would have kissed her.

"Is it okay if I pick out another outfit for you?" Max asked, dropping her hand from Victoria's hair.

Victoria smiled. It helped diffuse that knot inside her, the one that pulled tighter every time something like this happened. "Of course." Beat. "No promises I'll buy it, though."

Max grinned, and that broke the tension, finally. "That's fair," she replied.

They spent the next twenty minutes or so flitting all over the women's section, although that composed about half of the entire floor they were on, with Max only stopping long enough at a rack to hold something over Victoria's body for a second. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for - whatever it was, it was red. Red on black? Hmm, no, it looked like Max gave up on that idea rather fast. But after twenty minutes of this mad dash, Max was only holding three additional pieces of clothing from before - a red dress, white lace stockings, and red heels maybe three inches tall.

"Are you - are you seriously going to make me wear heels?" Victoria asked, once Max actually took the box with them. "I'll be a giant."

Max had already starting walking out of the shoe section, but she paused just long enough to look over her shoulder and say almost snidely, "Well, yeah, but a fucking hot one." And then she just kept walking, heels in hand.

Well, all right then, Victoria thought, lagging behind for a moment before jogging to catch up.

"Wait, where are we going now?" Victoria asked. They were headed to a part of the store they hadn't come to at all in the past hour and a half.

"To the part of the men's section where they have suits," Max replied.

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks - it was a pace or two before Max followed suit, turning back towards Victoria.

"Max," Victoria said cautiously, "I haven't worn any men's clothing since I was fourteen."

Max nodded in reply. "Yeah. And I haven't worn a dress since I was thirteen. But you dressed me up like a girl, and now I'm going to dress you a little more nonbinary."

"But I don't know if I'd ever wear something like that," Victoria protested.

"Fair, fair," Max said, taking a step back towards Victoria. "But you'd look killer in a suit."

And she did. The suit was red like her dress and her heels, which was a little too much for Victoria, but she couldn't pretend that she didn't look good. It was bright, and in your face, and it made her butt look good, and it was something she would absolutely never wear, and it made her look huge, and it also made her look hot. Very hot. Even Max's face told her that much.

"I . . . I don't know," Victoria said. It wasn't a custom suit like she would have wanted were she to buy one, and a good three hundred dollars cheaper than any suit she'd ever worn before. Moreover, it was a goddamn suit, and she couldn't think of a place she'd go where she'd be caught dead in it.

Max answered, "Oh, you know. You know."

Victoria's voice rose in pitch as she got more distressed, "I know it looks good, I do, but I feel like this suit is walking imposter's syndrome and I'm so huge with this and the heels."

Max's voice was softer when she replied. "Is it too much?" she asked. "We can stop. You don't have to buy it. I think I just . . . wanted to make something beautiful I wasn't so scared of."

Victoria turned back towards her changing room mirror, taking a step closer to it. She fluffed up her hair. She pulled her jacket taut. She turned to one side, and then the other. Then she just hummed quietly to herself. "I guess I could have it tailored," she said, thinking aloud.

In the mirror, Max's face brightened. "Really? You'll buy it?"

Victoria nodded, exhaling loudly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. It's only fair, right? Well, in the kind of fair where I have fuck-tons of money for clothes, but yeah."

Max grinned as Victoria turned back around. "Now let me get changed," Victoria said, Max stepping back as she closed the door.

By the time she'd taken the suit jacket off and stepped out of her heels, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah Max?"

"Victoria . . . do you like me?"

The knot in Victoria's chest returned suddenly, the rope of nervousness brushing over her neck in warning. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, are you attracted to me?"

Tighter. "What . . . what's bringing this on?"

"I'm very attracted to you. I mean, I haven't been doodling our names in little hearts in my notebook but I . . . like you."

Tighter. "Well I . . ." tighter. "I like you too, Max. You kind of fascinate me."

There was a little chuckle from outside, and then Max responded, "I'm glad."

There was a pause, and then Max's voice appeared again, "Victoria. Would you like to have sex with me?"

Victoria thought she might choke. "Uhhh," Victoria mumbled, then, "like, right now?"

Max only said, "Yeah."

Oh god. Oh my fucking god. She wants to have sex in the changing room. Do I want to have sex with her? Okay, okay, fine, I'm a little curious, but here? Seriously? Okay, wait, maybe that's fine. I've seen like two people come in this whole time, and I can totally masturbate quietly, at least. Am I seriously going to fuck Max in a changing room? What if she's joking? What if I say yes and she's actually joking? Will she make fun of me? But what if I take it as a joke and she's not joking?

"You still there?" Max asked.

"Uhhhhh yeah. Hold on."

After a second longer of hesitation, Victoria unlatched the door and pulled it open. Max stood there, no different from before, in her freaky t-shirt and faded jeans. This was nothing like the first time. This wasn't a seduction. This was . . . curiosity. For both of them.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked. It was soft, forceless, like when she'd reminded Victoria they didn't have to buy the suit. It was different. This was definitely different.

Victoria nodded, and Max stepped forward, standing on her toes as she held Victoria's face and kissed her. The first kiss was soft, just warm and gentle and hesitant. They barely knew each other. Their bodies weren't familiar with each other. That was only to be expected. But the second kiss was hard, and Victoria inhaled sharply in surprise. By the time it was over, Victoria was panting, and she could taste lipstick.

"Oh."

Max stepped in as Victoria took a step back, and the door was latched behind them a second later. Then Victoria was up against the mirror, the glass cool against her legs and neck while Max was very, very warm. Why wouldn't she be? She was always wearing that damn sweat shirt. Oh, nevermind, that was the first thing to go.

As Max's kisses started anew on Victoria's neck, she blurted out, "I've wanted you this whole time." It almost sounded like a whine. Victoria wasn't even sure why she said it.

Max pulled back, blinking a few times in rapid succession. Then she said, "Me too."

Victoria hadn't taken off any of her clothes (she didn't even know if she was going to), but she felt naked, exposed when the truth was out there instead of in her hand. That was how the knot stayed so tight, but it was also what kept her from unraveling. Being in total control of her feelings was her way of being in total control of herself.

Max made a twirling motion with her finger, and then said, "Turn around."

Victoria obeyed, turning until Max's hand fell on her hip, stopping her. The zipper on the back of Victoria's dress started coming undone, and after it, a trail of kisses down Victoria's spine. No, this was nothing like the first time. That had been so . . . sloppy, so careless. Max kissed every notch on Victoria's spine, and nothing felt like the first time.

Victoria's dress was on the floor, and Max's kisses finally ended. There must be pink spots all over Victoria's skin. They really should have used lipstick that didn't come off so easy.

"Why don't you sit down?" Max whispered. "It'll be easier."

Victoria complied. She was nervous. Although this was what she wanted, there was still that little voice telling her that something could go wrong, that Max wouldn't like her, that there would be regrets. As Max's fingers hooked into the band of her underwear, Victoria caught her hands, halting everything for a second. Max looked up at her, unsure of whether or not that was a sign to stop.

"Let me . . . let me do it," Victoria said, and Max dropped her hands as Victoria slid her underwear onto the floor. Victoria swallowed, and said, "Kiss me."

Confusion - finally something! - emerged on Max's face. "Where?" she asked.

Victoria covered her mouth as she giggled, then said, "My mouth, you ass."

Max stood up from her crouch, bracing herself on the bench as she leaned over. "Well, hey, it was a little unclear, okay?"

"Okay," Victoria said, knotting her fingers in Max's hair as they kissed.

Then the kiss broke from their lips, and down Max went her neck, her chest, her stomach, her navel, her-

"You're going to get your lipstick everywhere," Victoria wined. It was already smeared all over Max's face.

Max only smiled, lowering face so that Victoria couldn't see her mouth anymore. "I don't give a fuck about my lipstick," she said, and then Victoria gasped.

September 7, 4:16pm

Max seemed to take the 'eating' part of 'eating ice cream' very seriously. Victoria was pretty sure she'd never seen someone older than six actually try and bite ice cream, and here was Max doing it in rapid succession.

"Oh my God," Victoria exclaimed, "doesn't that hurt your teeth?"

Max licked her lips and then responded, "Why would it hurt my teeth?"

"Because it's cold."

"Why would something being cold hurt my teeth?"

Victoria gave her the most neutral stare she could muster. "Because that's how it works."

Max shrugged, returning to her sugar cone. "Not for me."

They were sitting off the trail somewhere at Council Crest park, whose reviews included several recommendations to make out on the hills. Victoria had no idea if that's what they were here to do, really, but none of the other parks had that even suggested in their reviews. Plus, it had a fantastic view of the city, and that was the most important thing. The view always reminded Victoria of the Japanese gardens - it was too bad they didn't have time to visit on their day trip.

"So," said Max, "if I join the Vortex club after this, does that technically count as nepotism?"

God, Max was a messy eater, and it was distracting. She had ice cream on her cheek in two places - who does that at age eighteen? "You've got a little something, Max, here," Victoria said, swirling a finger on her own cheek.

"Huh? Oh, thanks."

"And as for your question - the Vortex Club doesn't pride itself on its democratic merits. It's more about rising to the nobility, you know, feudalism style."

Max's eyes popped way open sarcastically as she kept eating. "Oh, wow, that sounds totally awesome. Feudalism. Love that."

Victoria shrugged. "It is what it is?"

Max laughed at that and said, "Oh, of course, as long as you're on top 'it is what it is.'"

Victoria stuck her spoon in her mouth for a second, letting the ice cream melt in her mouth for a second. Then she replied, "Yep. And that's how you'll think when you're on top, too."

Max glanced at Victoria side-eye, a smirk on her face for a silent second. Then she shrugged. "Nah. Can't say I'm into that. That's how you get stuff like capitalism, art snobbery, and . . . gender." Max shivered at that last word.

Victoria accepted that in stride. "Those are like my favorite things, Max. I love being an art snob. I was born - no, made to be an art snob."

"You're going to be great at it," Max said, nodding.

"Thanks, jerk," Victoria said, pushing Max's shoulder so she toppled over. Luckily, the ice cream stayed on its cone.

Once Max sat herself back up, she said, "See? See the violence inherent in the system? The oppression? Workers of the world unite, we-"

Victoria reached out again, but this time she grabbed Max's jacket. "Please shut up," she interrupted, and scooted closer to Max to kiss her. It was cold, and public, and just another thing she had never done, and it felt good.

They were both quiet after the kiss, returning to their ice cream. Well, in Max's case, finish chewing the cone, but that technically counted.

When she finished it, though, and there was nothing left to distract her, Max asked, "So, is that it? Are we friends who kiss sometimes now?"

Victoria shrugged. "I'm not the one who decided to toss a casual friendship aside to fuck in a changing room - I feel like you can answer that question better than I can."

Max laid back on the grass. It was shady where they sat, but Victoria could already tell Max was getting a sunburn. She was one of those people with pale skin who just got murdered by the sun, it seemed. Maybe that was why she kept the sweatshirt on all the time. "Hmm," Max hummed. "When I got accepted to Blackwell, I knew I'd only be coming back for a year. After that, it was college and a career, places where my decisions might matter, but here? The worst that could happen is I feel awkward around someone for a year, and then I'd never see them again. So I decided I wanted to be a slut while I still could."

Victoria nearly spit out her ice cream as she started laughing. Lucky that there wasn't enough for big bites left in the cup, perhaps. Max? Max wanted to be a slut? But she was so . . . well, not what Victoria pictured when she pictured a slut.

As Victoria settled down, she asked, "So what? This was your first pit stop on your adventure to be a slut?"

Now that the humor was starting to wear off, Victoria wasn't sure how she felt about that. It made her feel . . . cheap. It was a familiar feeling, and precisely the one Victoria had been hoping to avoid when she'd agreed to it. Then again, what else was she expecting of Max, exactly? What else did she even want out of her?

"I don't know," Max said after a short pause. "I don't think that's it. I wasn't kidding when I said I liked you. But I also . . . want to be kind of reckless, you know? And I'm not sure if you noticed but our classmates are kind of hot."

Victoria hadn't noticed that, actually. Every beautiful person in a place like Arcadia Bay was rare, and their beauty and rarity made them dangerous in a place like this. It was always clear that they didn't belong - to themselves, and to the people around them.

Still, Victoria was getting the impression she knew Max even less than she had thought. "I get that you want to be reckless and all, and that this place is a dumpster you can just as well set fire to as you leave, but your actions still have consequences, Max. I don't mean to sound like an abstinence-only sex educator just . . . I don't know. Things can get pretty fucked up in a year, you know?"

Max laughed, turning to look up straight at Victoria. Even back in her old clothes, Max looked beautiful under the dappled sunlight. Victoria hadn't seen her eyes in the light before, really, but they were . . . good. "Actually, you sound more like Kate Marsh."

Victoria grimaced. That was even worse. "God, fine, I take it back. Fuck everybody, no regrets."

Max's chuckle continued, but she quieted down faster this time. "That's not an insult, you know. I like her."

Seriously? How are Max and I even friends, I swear to God. "Really? You don't find her, you know, irritating? Stuck up? Bitchy?"

"Nah," Max said, dismissing Victoria off-hand. "She seems sweet. Genuine. Really smart. And a little gay, question mark?"

What. "What? What makes you say that?"

"She kind of asked me out on a date, maybe." Max's face pinched. "I'm not sure, but if she weren't Christian I definitely would think it was a date."

Well, that's unexpected. Victoria wasn't sure if that made her like Kate more or less. There was always a little bit of distrust she held for queer Christians, though she hadn't examined it very deeply. If she actually took the time to ask herself, a part of her knew it was how invalid her anger felt in the face of faith, but she carefully did not ask herself.

A question appeared in Victoria's mind. She knew she shouldn't ask it - it would make her seem attached in a way she most certainly did not want to. It came out anyway. "So, this maybe date. What is it?"

Max looked up at the branches of the tree instead of at Victoria's face. "Kate's taking me to a coffee shop downtown tomorrow. She wants to study together, but it's for a class we haven't had any graded assignments in yet, and I clearly don't know what's going on. So I think she's just taking me out for coffee or tea because . . . gay?"

There was a short pause in which Victoria didn't know what to say. Luckily, Max was quick to fill in the gap in conversation. "What's your deal with her, anyway? It's like you disliked her on sight."

That wasn't true. Victoria had at first decided she simply didn't care one way or another about one of the new girls of photography. It wasn't until the end of class the first day that Victoria had settled on disliking her, and the reason was painfully obvious and obviously petty. Kate had taken Mr. Jefferson's TA role. Moreover, she had acted like she didn't even want, like she was doing it just to help out. No one was altruistic without motivation, especially when it came to the rich and famous. Victoria hated people who pretended to be better than they were.

"I guess . . ." Victoria started, but she had no ending for that sentence. What could she even say without sounding childish? "Everything she says seems too good. Like, practiced, 'please notice what a pure flower I am.' Real people aren't like that. They fuck up and have shitty ideas."

"Hmm," Max hummed. Then, she rolled on her side, forcing Victoria to turn a little to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is that you think she's perfect, and that pisses you off."

"Ew, no. Fuck off." Max was starting to get on her nerves a little, prying a little too close. This was one of the main reasons why Taylor and Courtney were so easy to spend time with - they didn't ask questions they didn't need the answers to. Most of the time, Nathan was like that too - and even better, he didn't divulge things he didn't need to, either.

Well. Victoria couldn't pretend it had been easy to spend time with Nathan lately, exactly.

Max shrugged, dropping onto her back. "Suit yourself," she said, "but I think you'd actually like her, if you talked to her. She doesn't talk much, but when you get her going - well, she knows a shit-ton, I guess I'll just say that."

Victoria didn't want to hear this. "Max. If I kiss you and you promise not to overthink it once this trip's over, will you please shut up about Kate Marsh?"

"Hm. Deal."

This was going to get grass stains all over Victoria's clothes. And even if she'd asked Max not to overthink it, Victoria knew she'd be tearing this whole trip apart long after she'd washed the stains from her clothes and the lipstick from her skin.

September 7, 7:10pm

As she pulled into the parking lot at Blackwell, the nervousness that had begun to grow throughout the trip back reached a head. Victoria had just had a very strange day with Max, and she wasn't sure what it ending meant. Max would finally have something to wear to Vortex Club stuff, so Courtney would finally feel comfortable letting her in. That was good. Victoria was pretty sure that was good.

As they both reached into the back for their bags, Max paused. "You know," she said, "I've never done anything like today. I hope it was okay."

Victoria didn't know what to say to that, really. It was so hard for her to tell what Max was feeling - when their eyes met, Max's eyes were almost just the same neutral, and Victoria never knew what came next. "Yeah, I haven't . . . either." A half truth. "But I think it was okay. I think we're . . ." we're what? What are you even trying to say? "In the clear."

"Yeah," Max agreed, settling back into her chair with her bag in her lap. As she reached for her door, though, Victoria tapped her shoulder, trying to get her attention before Max left, and they were actually, really back at school.

Max looked back. If she knew what was coming, Victoria couldn't tell. She just leaned over the seat and kissed Max, and Max kissed her back. She brought her hands up to Victoria's hair, holding her in longer than Victoria had planned for.

Neither of them wanted their day trip to end. It felt like an entirely different car trip than the one they'd set out on.

Would things go back to normal after this? Or would this 'one more kiss' feeling linger in their classes, when they met in the hallway, at parties? If it did, what then?

Before Max left the car, she said, "Thanks for buying me the clothes. They're really pretty."

And all Victoria had to say in response was, "Yeah, of course."

And their trip was over.

[tlupis]

three lost toys rewrite

"Miranda! Come quick I have something for you!" Called a man of tall stature. Immediately his daughter, a 6 year old Miranda came dashing down the stairs and lept into her father's arms. He brushed her unruly red hair from her eyes. "hello darling.H "Hello! What did you bring daddy?" She asked excitement gleaming in her green eyes. "This!" He said presenting her with a beautiful cloth bodied Easter rabbit. The rabbit had brown eyes with big pupils, a blue ribbon glued to her head, and a pretty blue outfit. Her pale yellow head and paws were made from some type of clay or porcelain with a hand painted flower crown around her tall ears. Miranda smiled at the toy, "thank you daddy!" she then bopped the rabbits large  pink nose. "I'm going to call you Adillia!" She hugged  her father and dashed back to her room. she looked around her pink and white room to find the perfect spot for Adillia. "Perfect. you'll love it over here Adillia." She set the rabbit delicately on the shelf next to her two favorite toys. "Adillia this is Sebastian and Dr. Bonetta! Everyone give Adillia a warm welcome!" the little girl exclaimed patting the head of a large green and black sock monkey, and petting the ears of another smaller stuffed rabbit dressed like a doctor. "I hope you'll be happy here Adillia. welcome home." Miranda played with her toys often and constantly talked to them as she grew older. As she grew her room changed from pink to red and her toys were gotten rid of, all accept her favorite three. They were always together and she was with them as often as possible. Her nightly ritual was to say goodnight to each of them by name and give them a kiss. It was childish yes, but it made her happy to have that little bit of childishness as she grew. Things were grand until the night of Miranda's 15th birthday. She invited all of her friends for a sleepover, they watched movies and played board games. Then one of her friends, Samantha, asked "Hey, do you guys believe in ghosts?" When everyone laughed and said things like "no way!", and "of course not what are we babies?" she brought out an Ouija board. "oh yeah? put your money with your mouth is!" the girls laughed and all sat around the game playing it unaware of what they were calling. The girls, at one point, decided that the toys should play as well, they thought they were being silly. For the most part things were fine, as the toys were exposed to the spirits brought forth by the board they began to "live".  Most of the spirits summoned were shapeless harmless creatures that would take the roll of whatever they entered. In this case they became Adillia, Sebastian, and Dr. Bonnetta. They felt the love given to these forms and loved the girl back because of it. taking the good energy projected by the girl over the years to fuel their new lives. Now at this point the girls placed Sebastian's hands on the planchette. So he could me more involved in the play. As the night wore on more malevolent creatures came through, they started to cause minor mischief through out the house, but the toys were the only ones that knew. They knew something was very very wrong. the last spirit that came through was a violent being. Sebastian, to protect the girl who loved him, began to move the piece spelling out the words "stop playing", The girls laughed accusing each other of moving the piece and when it devolved into a fight, decided to all moved their hands away at the same time. They did not remove Sebastian's hands and he moved it again "say goodbye end the game." The girls panicked and threw the board out the window. They were terrified and Miranda said they should go home, that something was wrong and they may not be safe. The girls left, promising to have another sleep over at a different house. They left, never saying goodbye to what they summoned, and not truly understanding the extent of their actions. Three months passed before Miranda started to face her consequences. Her parents both went to bed early with headaches. She started getting ready for bed her self when she heard the screams. She ran to her parents rescue closely followed by her toys, they knew what she would find and they feared for her safety. She saw the blood first, seeping under the door like a ruby river. She swallowed and opened the door staring at the horror before her. Her mother laid in several pieces, most of which were sliding down the walls or hanging from the ceiling fan, and all she saw of her father was his head, and what seemed to be his heart. Blood covered everything like paint and she started to hyperventilate and vomit, mixing her dinner and bile with the blood that covered the room. She ran, screaming at the top of her lungs and stumbling from her parents room and was headed for the front door. The toys moved out of her way as she sprinted. As she reached the front door she tripped on something on her porch, her father torso. She threw up again and started rocking and screaming. The neighbors called the police and when they arrived all she could tell them was that her parents were slaughtered by some unseen nightmare. That they were all over everything. The toys heard one of the police officers say to grab Miranda some of her things, and to call the hospital for her. They went to her room and waited, the woman sent to collect her things grabbed them, "poor kid will need these I bet." she murmured to herself. That night Miranda was checked into the hospital for evaluation and treatment. Her doctors gave her the toys to stop her screaming, it was the only thing that worked. Miranda was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder, schizophrenia, depression, and sever panic disorder. Her grandmother took her into her care and made sure she took her medicine and took her to her appointments. The medicine did not work and made her sick, much to her grandmothers distress. The old woman did the best she could with the mentally scared child for years. Four years to be exact, for after those years the woman passed away. Leaving Miranda everything in the hopes that she would never have to move and would keep her life together. Miranda did her best to do just that. She stopped taking her medication, but kept seeing her psychiatrist every week. She was able to get a part time job and feed herself on a regular basis. She was doing rather well and the doctor thought it was time to take the next step. As part of her treatment she was told to leave one window unlocked on the second floor.  "High enough that people aren't going to break in" He said, "this will help you see that its okay to let your guard down". He was terribly wrong. That night a man broke in through the open window and started to search the house. He found Miranda asleep on the couch and grinned.He drew a pocket knife and went straight for Miranda, who was on heavy sleeping medication and would not be easily awoken. Adillia was the first to react, jumping on him and tugging his hair to distract him. He flailed, trying to throw off what he thought was a house cat. He managed to dislodge the rabbit and she hit the ground, breaking off her delicate ears in the process.  Sebastian and Dr.B joined the fray to protect Miranda. Both pulled and ripped at the man, Adillia stabbed him with her broken ears causing him to fall, knife still in hand, and land on the sleeping Miranda. His knife landed in her left eye, killing her before she even knew she was in danger. The toys fell on to their fallen owner, their cloth bodies wracking with ethereal sobs of anguish. The man ran away from the scene, leaving blood in his wake, and escaped that night. Adillia was the first to recover enough to think. She dialed 911 and then lead Sebastian and Bonetta away from the scene. They were lost with out Miranda, they disappeared into the night, It would be years before they were seen again. 10 years later The toys were  still together and in good shape, hiding in the park and adjusting to their lives. They became more animate, and more empathetic. They were afraid to love another person, to lose another person. They decided it was finally time to make a stop at someone's house. "Tonight in late breaking news. A woman hospitalized after claiming that toys murdered her husband. Police say in a gruesome act of insanity the woman repeatedly stabbed her husband with kitchen knives, screwdrivers, pens, and several more weapons they are not releasing to the public. The police also say the murdered man is the one responsible for murdering Miranda Keltington 10 years ago We'll be keeping with this shocking story." A cruel man laughs and turns off the news "toys! Killen!" He laughed again throwing his empty beer bottle at his terrified daughter. Outside something pauses to listen "You wish that would happen don't you! Get to bed you little bitch!" He screamed sending her running down the hallway and sending a thought through those outside. Children are innocent and pure, they need saving from cruelty. Inside the father laughs and pulls off his belt, following his daughter down the hall. "What did I say about running in the house?" he was so consumed with his abuse that he never saw black Velcro paws opening the window behind him... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Hey everyone! thanks for reading three lost toys. This story was published before and then edited to be better once my writing improved. I will likely do this again in the future but for now please enjoy ~tlupis

[lunar-pebble]

Imma rant because I'm real mad right now 

///probably trigger warning/// //Very long//

I don’t want to sound like a moody teenager or anything but let's talk about my mom’s shitty parenting skills for a minute because I'm so fed up and I’ve been needing to get this shit off my chest for years.

When I was young, like grade school before “tween” age young, I wanted shorts. My mom took me out and got me to try a pair on and after a few minutes in the change room I told her I wasn't coming out because they were way too big and I was going to show everyone my underwear if I stepped out. We argued through the door, I could tell she was really fed up and wanted in my change room. After I opened the door I remember her hand reach around my neck and push me against the wall angrily whispering something, I wasn't paying attention though because I was focused on my throat. That was the first moment she lost my trust.

When I was probably 11 I was having major self-image issues because of puberty and a stupid facebook thing that told me a few of my Facebook “friends” said I could stand to loose some weight. None of this was helped by the fact that my mom and grandma would sometimes tell me my thighs were getting big, or my mom poking my stomach “baby fat”, or smacking my butt even though I told her to stop ( because “she's my mom and is allowed to do that because she gave birth to me” and apparently that overrides consent), or her telling me I had a long face with a mocking facial expression. I struggled with Bulimia on and off for 5 years after that.

When I was 14 I got my first boyfriend and was so excited I went and told my mom. “Dating” was not a thing allowed in the religion I was born into and I was basically shunned in my own house until we broke up. I had no internet access so I couldn’t talk to him, she called the school and had them move us to opposite sides of the classroom, she wouldn’t show me any affection, I either cleaned the house for her or stayed in my room. One day my grandma came down crying and told me to call my mom and apologize for dating basically because she “didn't want to lose me”, confused as I was I pretty well gave up on most things in life so I did it. My mom came home and calmly told me if I didn't do that she was going to drop me off at some foster home because she didn't want to deal with me/be my mom anymore. That was the first time I googled suicide. I jumped in front of a car. it stopped.

When I was 15 I got really stressed with a class and skipped a different one to study. When my mom got the call I skipped she sat me down, accused me of sneaking off to do drugs or slutting around, called me multiple names like “asshole”, “bitch” and stuff, and threatened to publicly humiliate me (she wanted to follow me to the class and make me stand up in front of people I was trying to be friends with and tell them how much of an asshole I was for probably slutting around and basically talk shit about myself for her enjoyment; she never followed through with this thank god). Tensions ran high and we started fighting. We’d argue until things got physical, either her whipping me to the floor by my hair or slapping me across the face multiple times. we'd get loud enough that my grandma would come down sometimes and my mom would switch and start crying telling her I attacked her. That was the first time I truly felt alone. I was sent to a therapist after telling my friends I wanted to die. They gave me a yes or no questionnaire and I was one point away from being “depressed” so there was no need for further therapy.

When I was 16 I got back together with my first boyfriend trying to keep it a secret this time. Things slipped up and she found out. I was terrified of her or what she’d do so I left and moved in with him for a week. His mom was more of a mom to me than my mom was in that week. I left the religion I hated and went to counseling with my mom.  She promised she wouldn’t hit me again but my anxiety was at an all time high and I became constantly paranoid at everything.

Among those things, -she blames me for us not having enough money for things, -Tells me that if I was gay I would be disowned by the family and kicked out (surprise, I like girls and not able to do anything about it), -whenever we argue she says “If I didn’t love you why would I buy you X, X, and X?” like buying me things makes up for things or is better than actual emotional attachment ( *I’m very grateful for these things she buys but really?), -mocks any distress or stress because it’s “worse in the real world” I know nothing about stress and I’m being childish, -and gives me a full list of things to do on days I’m sick (ie Dishes, laundry, scrubbing bathroom) when I just want to sleep and recover and then gets pissed and takes things I’m looking forward to away because I was sleeping instead of being her maid. among other things (don’t get me wrong I’m cool with chores, just not when I’m really sick and really need the recovery time)

Basically, there's a lot of things my mom fucked up for me in my life. I have horrible anxiety that causes me to scratch at my skin leaving scars, I fall into these deep depressive loops, I can’t trust anyone, I flinch when someone raises their arm quickly near me, I have a hard time keeping stable relationships with people and I’m sick of everything. I just want my schooling to be over so I can get a little place with anyone who wants to be my roommate, I want to live and be completely happy for once. I’m tired of bringing stupid emotional baggage into every relationship whether it be friendly or romantic and ruining things or pushing them away.

I have so much love to give and I try my best to make my friends feel loved because I never want anyone to feel the way I do, to feel broken and that they've given up.

I’m just tired, I’m tired of life like this and I’m tired of faking a stupid smile everywhere I go.