#to the people who said they hope i relive my trauma: i do. every fucking day

[cold--carnage]

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all photos and art belong to me. please do not steal/modify

[oregon-barbi13]

I am going to put it all out there! IDGAF!

So, I'll begin by saying how healing this is gonna be!

today I am from the "wishamotherfuckerwoods" tribe. today i lay it all bare. i am disappointed. i am heartbroken. i am angry. i feel cheated. i feel manipulated. i feel lied to. I feel taken advantage of. today i am a mother of a child that the system has failed. yea. i said it. the judicial system has failed my child. Her rapest sits in jail and they drag their feet with getting court ordered evalutations, for what? so they can get rich? who fucking wins here? every single time we are forced to "revisit" these court ordered evaluations, we are revictimized. I have to relive the night my daughter, the human being that i grew in my my womb, however she may have gotten there, was raped by the spermdonor that raped me.

the system has failed. it takes weeks for documents to make it to the correct places to make it into the right hands. then it takes more weeks for it to be processed, why? because there aren't enough people to handle the case loads. like wake up people this is not ok. my child shouldn't have to endure 3 years of having to relive this nightmare just to be told and given the hope only to have it strip away at the end it. you have made me the bad guy. because every single time you all decide to drag your feet and order yet another evaluation you postpone the "sentencing" and i am the one she turns to because i am her safety. i have to tell her that the system is failing and i wish i could fix it but i can't. all i can do is give her a voice. make sure that her story is told and that what happened to her never happens to another girl ever again, and to the girls going through something similiar, reach out, you are not alone. mamas, i implore you to reach out, please, i promise you are not the failure here, the system is.

just when i thought i was healing, here comes all the emotions screaming back up like a valcano. the guilt. the shame. the disgust. the odasacity. I am absolutely just blown away by what's being projected on to our youth. this is disgusting yall. we need to do better. we need to hold these people accountable for the trauma. abuse. trauma. it's not ok. yall our youth are committing suicide at a desprately alarming rate. their mental health matters. their feelings matter. they are people. yall, we all need to learn how to navigate these huge emotions, like abdaondmant trauma, trauma bonding, our parents didn't have these studies or services available to them. that's not an excuse, everyone's accountable. but to ask a 15 year old to make these kinds of decisions AND uphold societial norms.

i am so tired of being forced to relive every single abuse that has ever been handed to me by the wade family. from the physical right down to the kidnapping of my daughter. i have lived my life in fear of them taking her away from me. ryan spent the weekend in sept raping the child he raped me to get. rape has many forms. what he did to me was rape. i was scared. i didn't want to be in the relationship but i thought i was doing the right thing by at least giving him a chance, hoping that he would grow up after his child had arrived. he did not. i asked for a couple of weeks to get my shit togheter. I wanted to spend some time with my daughter and spend some time thinking and deciding if i could actually be a single parent. because at the time i wasn't even sure i wanted to be with travis. ryan and cindy confronted the gem county police department who then met them at tom cabin diner and said, "because there is no custody in place, you take her anywhere you want and there's nothing legally she can do." i was fucking crushed. they kept her from me for seven days. i had no way of knowing if she was cold or hungry or anything. their excuse for taking her like that? " Sarah would have done it"

i am fucking angry. because this isn't fair. my daughter has to relive, i'm forced to relive. my family is forced to relive.

[heartratehibernate]

Pretty sure you're meant to wait for people to ask but I couldn't give a shit, I'm doing it all.

1. Creepypasta. I fucking hope you can guess which one. Pretty damn connected.

2. Not sure, exomemories are hard to come by. I know I'm different from canon. Was older when I went cuckoo. Didn't burn my eyelids off. Me and Liu's parents were pieces of shit. Would've never hurt my brother. Fucking never. Dunno if it was ever specified, but I was the older brother. Fanon wise, I dont kill at random, I kill people that deserve it. Only kill. Haven't gotten a solid exomemory of the other creeps yet, but I think I remember having a safe place to go. The being an ass thing is dead on though.

3. Don't really talk to others, don't really know any systems anymore. We got pretty bad luck keeping friends.

4. Nope.

5. Read 3.

6. Got a little to say. I see you, the people that thought a house of outcast dangerous freaks were safer and better than anything you had. I see your pain. Hope you're doing better these days and hope my source gave you comfort when you needed it. Also you're all too horny for me, chill the fuck out. /lh. You're all cool. Thanks for still being here.

7. Me? A little, I like the fan art. My headmates? Can't get enough. A crowbar wouldn't pry em off.

8. I dunno what my canon was meant to be, but I'm transmasc and I'm still figuring out my sexuality. Pretty sure I'm demi aroace. Maybe pan? Who the fuck knows. Not me.

9. I get curious about rewrites. First two versions were hilariously shit. I wanna see if someone will get close to what I really went through. Also some of them help figure my exomemories out. Can't do it too often though, not a big fan of reliving my trauma apparently.

10. Hoodie. We're getting a white one that's got a red design on it soon and that bitch is mine. I miss wearing mine. Couldn't rip it off me if you tried.

11. My brother, not that I got to see him much after everything. I'd keep my distance for the most part, had to avoid getting caught after all. I'd check on him every now and then. He seemed sad. Really wish I could've been there for him.

12. Me and Liu were walking through the woods. Can't remember why exactly, guess we just wanted to get away from everything for a little while. I asked something along the lines of "Wouldn't it be funny if we just ran away from it all?", he chuckled and told me we cant just do that. So I grabbed his hand and ran and dragged him along, him giggling all the way. We stopped by a tree and sat under it for a bit. He asked "Wouldn't it be hard? To run away.", and I said "Probably, do you think it'd be hard?". He said "Probably. But I'd have you, so it'd be okay.". We spent a while imagining it together. Made me happy to hear that. Would've taken him with me if it didn't risk him so much, or if I knew we'd have a comfortable life. Considering how crap being on the run is, it was probably for the best.

13. A little, I still resemble canon and fanon me enough. My smile healed over, but I opened it back up every now and then, and sometimes I stitched it shut. My skin's white as fuck but not that white. I got burns on a little of the right side of my face and some of the right side of my body, was pretty lucky to avoid as much as I did. Like I said, I didn't burn my eyelids, I just like eyeliner and a little eyeshadow. Still got my nose intact. My hoodie took a bit of a beating over the years. More scarred. Got piercings. Got tattoos. My hairs longer.

14. Am I meant to feel some sorta way? They exist.

15. Host and ex host. Won't go into it, but if anyone hurts these dumbasses I'll tear them apart. They're the only people I really like. Their partner is ok. Joked about proposing to me with knives. I'd say yes for the knives.

16. Sometimes. I know I'm an ass. Got my reasons. Know they shouldn't be excuses. Don't like being made out as if I'm totally cold hearted. Hate that people think I'd do anything other than kill my victims, shit makes me fucking sick. Maybe another creepypasta fictive, hell, maybe even another Jeff fictive. Not gonna shame exomemories when we can't help em, but that's not me.

17. Yup. I make shitty self portraits sometimes. Might make art of the other creeps.

18. I got my own room, and I got a real small space in the fronting room. I like being close by, but that shits elevated and curtained off.

19. My hoodie. Maybe my knives, but I wouldn't be allowed to use them and I'm not looking to blueball myself. At least I'd get to wear my hoodie.

20. Angels of Death. My system's got a real funny joke that I'm really a Zack fictive since my voice is real close to the English dub. I'm me, thanks.

Would be great if I wasn't a dumbass and if I'd saved this instead of posting it. Was meant to be scheduled but whatever.

Fictive Ask Game

Wanted to make my own because I'm bored, hope you'll enjoy!

What's your source? How connected do you feel to it?

Are you mostly canon or AU?

Have you ever met a double?

Do you have any canon mates in-system?

Have you ever met any canon mates outside of your system?

How do you feel about your source's fandom?

Do you interact with your source's fandom?

What's your gender and sexuality? Is it the same as your canon counterpart's?

Do you read fanfic?

Do you have any clothes, accessories, etc that make you feel more comfortable when you front?

What do you miss the most about your world?

Share an exomemory!

Does your appearance differ from your canon counterpart's?

How do you feel about sourcecalls?

Who in your system are you closest to? What about outside your system?

Is it hard for you to not take things the fandom says about you personally?

Have you ever created any art or fic related to your source?

Do you have your own space inworld? What's it like?

If you could bring one thing from your homeworld to this one, what would it be?

What's your favorite piece of media that isn't your own canon?

[kirishimas-manly-eyeliner]

➶ WHAT MAKES THE MHA BOYS BREAK (PT. 2)

pairings: mirio togata, tenya iida, katsuki bakugo, aizawa shota, tomura shigaraki, dabi, hawks, mashirao ojiro, tamaki amajiki

warnings: hinting anxiety/anxiety attacks, reverse comfort, also tamaki’s made me cry so have fun lmao 

part one with mezo shoji, tokoyami fumikage, hanta sero, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hitoshi shinsou here!

WHEN YOU COMFORT THEM THE MOMENT THEY BREAK DOWN: MIRIO TOGATA, TENYA IIDA, KATSUKI BAKUGO

MIRIO TOGATA

there was no way that mirio was completely fine after everything that had happened to him

he had lost his quirk, experienced a battle that could result in permanent trauma, and he lost nighteye-- the leader and hero that he had looked up to for so long

but when you told him that it was okay to be strong all the time, mirio had broken

he broke for the first time in what felt like years

“don’t worry a-ahbout me!” 

the saddest part about it?

he was smiling through his tears not even a few moments after his grin broke

his lips were trembling, his eyes were red and his entire body was shaking with suppressed sobs, but he had an unwavering smile.

and that... that was heartwrenching to look at.

his smile fell, his body trembled and he let out a strangled sobbut for some reason, this-- none of it had shown a single trace of weakness. it was a way of him to express very human emotions and reactions as everyone else could.

he wasn’t disappointing nighteye in anyway-- more of showing respect by letting it all out to be able to show genuine smiles in public

how come such human emotions were labeled as good or bad?

“i let him down,” mirio gasped, “i let him down, i hurt him, i could have saved him, and-”

“hey, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. it’s just me baby, it’s just me,” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around him. “shhh, it’s just me. you’re okay.”

mirio’s hands trembled as he gripped tight onto you

his chest was getting tighter as he burst into struggled breaths. he was just so... tired.

a million thoughts zipped through his head at once, but he just had to calm the storm for a while in your arms

TENYA IIDA 

it was right after the accident in hosu city, and everything, everything had gone wrong

even though he didn’t show it at first, he felt used as an advertisement for hatsume, and then losing in a battle with todoroki and felt like he was thriving on dumb luck

he just wanted to make his brother proud, that was-

-if he could, anymore. 

he felt so weak for letting himself feel this way, his head racing and chest heaving as he struggled to breathe

letting your guard down will just make things worse. tensei wouldn’t want this.

tenya’s body visibly trembled as he let out a shaky breath in his dorm room, thinking everything over in the darkness

“iida?” you asked, knocking on the door.

immediately, his demeanor changed as he shifted over to a braver face. 

“hello, y/n!”

just breathe. they’ll be gone sooner or later. breathe.

“why are you up this late at night?” he asked.

“i was just checking in on you, but i should be asking you the same question, sonic boy,” you grinned, until you noticed his hands trembling.

and for some reason, that hurt you. his face was.. so put together with a brave smile, confident eyes, and his head held up high and posture straight and firm

but when you saw his hands trembling and an odd shifting in his chest, you knew something was up

“are you okay?” you tested the words. 

tenya tried. he tried so, so hard to smile and affirm with a confident, “yes!”

but he couldn’t.

“i-i’m not- i’m not sure-,” his voice broke into a whisper. 

“i don’t know.”

you melted into a hug next to him as you took a seat. “hey, you can tell me anything, okay? it’s okay not to have your guard up all the time, it’s not weak to show emotion. just- if you want, can you tell me what’s been going on?”

tenya took a shaky breath and pushed up his glasses. “of course, thank you for asking, i will.”

KATSUKI BAKUGO

after his fight with deku, all of the willpower left in him to hold himself together disappeared 

katsuki had been exhausted after a long day of fighting, not just physically, but emotionally

he had tried to keep his head high for as long as he could, but the moment he went to his dorm room, he just... broke.

angry tears released and he choked out heavy, strangled sobs as he pounded his fist to the ground in frustration

katsuki cursed towards whoever was there, until he found you standing behind him

he was too tired to argue.

“the fuck are you doing here,” he grumbled.

“is something wrong, 'suki?” you whispered. “i was just coming by to drop off your water bottle, you left it during hero training,” you examined his face. “are you- are you okay?”

he loved you, he really did-- but today just wasn’t a good day. “mn-no,” he managed to say.

his chest was heaving and his eyes seemed to be searching the room, as if looking for an exit.

you noticed the dark circles around his eyes and the way his lips trembled. had he been crying?

you slowly cupped his face in your hands, noses touching as you two shared breaths, inhaling and exhaling together

katsuki was too tired to pull away. 

he felt so weak.

you could hear katsuki’s breath shaking but slowly dying in volume as he held him tighter

“hey,” you said softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “you’re gonna be okay ‘suki. you’re gonna be okay.”

they’re pitying me.

“this?” you said, holding his bruised hand up and motioning towards his trembling figure. “this isn’t weak.” you said, as if reading his mind. “this is strong. this is brave. being emotionally vulnerable is one of the most courageous things anyone can ever do, and you are so much more than that, m’kay?”

he nodded in response. even though he didn’t express it that well, he thought of it 

WHEN YOU PROMISE TO STAY: TOMURA SHIGARAKI, HAWKS, DABI

DABI

everyone shut up i love him

all that he’s ever wanted and asked for in life was for someone to notice him for who he genuinely was, to be free to do whatever he pleased

it was late at night and you two were outside, the moon illuminating in the darkness as you slid against the wall of the city in the back of the building

“anything interesting happen?” you asked, staring up into the moon

the night was young and it had been a rough, terrible day at work for both of you, even though you had separate jobs and shfits-- the only thing that pushed you forward everyday was being able to meet with dabi right after, at exatly 11pm. 

sure, you did it every day, and it shouldn’t have been that impactful-- but for some reason, somehow, everything about talking to him was so... exhilerating. 

he didn’t reply.

“uhhm,” you shuffled nervously toward him. “dabi, you good?”

he let out a shaky exhale, which was odd.

hold the phone.

no, really, someone hold the phone because it was ringing

“oh, sorry, one sec,” you rushed, hurrying to answer. it was one of your co-workers. “hello!”

“uhuh. yeah. oh, cool... got it, mhm, be right ther-”

you noticed how dabi’s body language immediately changed as he turned around and crossed his arms gently over his chest and stared into the sky.

this really, really wasn’t like him. 

something had to be wrong.

“uhm, on second thought,” you said. “does tomorrow at... noon work for you? i have plans. yeah. mhm, sorry not tonight. yep, bye!”

dabi’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t look at you. “who was that?”

“one of my coworker buddies or whatever. they wanted to have a drink with me, but i said no.”

“why’d you say no?” he deadpanned.

“uhhhm, well, you certainly don’t seem very... how should i say this, at your fullest?”

“but why?” dabi said. “you meet with me every day, and going with your friends is probably a lot easier than this. what’s so different about it..?”

you thought carefully as you shrugged casually, gently leaning your head against his shoulder. “if one of my closest pals were down, i couldn’t just... leave them like that. and even though i know you won’t tell me what’s wrong, i just.. i just don’t want you to feel alone, you know? like everyone in your life has left? and i- i don’t want to do that to you.”

even though dabi stayed relatively quiet for the rest of the night, 

just know that was the day he fell in love with you.

SHIGARAKI

nightmares were the worst. 

for the record, he didn’t get them often, but when he did, and actually reacted to it... they ended up terrible

he gasped, grasping at the air for his mother’s embrace only to be met with nothingness

he clawed at his skin as his breath hitched, trying to control himself

“tomura?” you asked. “...are- are you okay?”

“get away from me,” he trembled. “i’m a... i’m a monster.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in concern. “hey, hey, c’mon. what’s going on-”

“leave me alone.”

his sudden change in tone made you jump as you stepped back and you watched his figure tremble. 

“shigaraki.”

“if something’s wrong, don’t sugarcoat it. if something’s wrong, please, for the love of the world, tell me, okay? i just- i just want to see you... maybe..”

“what?” shigaraki deadpanned. “happy? satisfied? content? joyful? you people all want the same thing.”

“hopeful.”

shigaraki looked up. 

“i want to see you hopeful, m’kay? so just... please. you don’t need to tell me word-for-word, but-- if you need something, i’m here.”

he was not going to cry. nuhuh. no way. no way was he going to start crying. 

you wrapped your arms around him before he cautiously hugged back, letting himself slowly melt into your embrace, his satin gloves against your clothes

“hey. i promise you, i’m never going to be leaving. no matter how much you mess up, no matter how terrible you may feel-- you mean the world to me. please hold on just a little longer.”

HAWKS

it wasn’t supposed to happen until later, when he was actually able to get home and prepare himself for anxious feeling in his stomach to finally settle

but noooo, his mental state really just said yolo

so here he was, reliving his entire childhood with memories that he’d pushed down for so long, about to snap in a matter of seconds

“keigo~!”

your familiar voice rang through his head. 

he just wanted to be held by you.

the most beautiful part about being with hawks his that he genuinely didn’t care about his pride around you. he wasn’t insecure of what you thought of him. he didn’t freak out or try to act like he was fine when you were with him, because... why would he need to? 

so instead of putting on a brave face and getting scared of your voice as if being anxious was a crime, he melted into it.

“hey angel, i got you some food at the-”

“y/...y/n,” his breath hitched. your voice, that you often said you were insecure about-- was his safe haven. he felt safe when he heard your voice and let himself crumple. he didn’t have to worry about putting his walls up, because it was just you.

beautiful, loving, kind you. 

his love was something special that he gave to no one else.

“k-keigo!” 

even though you were far from him, your bags in hand and everything, you immediately dropped them and ran to your boyfriend

“hey, hey, baby, what’s going on?” 

he stood directly in front of you, his head down and not saying a word.

you let your breathing sync with his as you reached out to hold his hand, when he threw his arms around you before his trembling body was held in your embrace

“-hey,” you said, shocked by the sudden embrace, before you hugged back, slowly, rocking him back and forth. “you’re going to be okay.”

“you don’t have to tell me anything, just-- focus on me,”

“i’m never leaving you, okay? no matter what you do, you’re still going to be my hero.”

and hawks decided on that day that out of anything else in the world, you meant the most to him. 

WHEN YOU TELL THEM THAT THEY MATTER: TAMAKI AMAJIKI, MASHIRAO OJIRO, SHOTA AIZAWA

TAMAKI AMAJIKI

useless. useless. useless.

why wouldn’t his stupid quirk activate before? why couldn’t he be more optimistic? why was he always thinking about something else? why couldn’t he ever stay positive and cheery like everyone else?

how was everyone else so strong?

but laying in a hospital bed, in complete silence and vulnerability...

that scared him.

tamaki blinked back the sudden tears that prickled against his eyes-- nuhuh, no way was he about to cry when so many other people had it worse, no way he was going to break down when nighteye was dead, he was not about to cry if mirio could be strong and so many other people had it worse, and-

“tamaki, snap out if it!”

your cold hands cupped his face, as you stared him directly in the eyes. “what are you doing?”

tamaki jumped back at your sudden question. but for some reason, the way you said it wasn’t angrily, more like... a statement? a question? as if you were asking are you okay?

tamaki shook his head. “i don’t... i don’t kn-know..”

get away, get away, get away.

your hands brushed back a hair from his face as you crouched down in front of him, your hands still helping him cool down. they rested gently on his scalp and along his face as you felt his breathing grow uneasy.

“listen,” you began slowly. “i’m not saying you need to tell me what’s going on, but... i just- i have a feeling that you’re not doing okay. and i know that because no one was ever really there for me back then, so if you want to say anything--”

“--i’m here for you.”

tamaki crumpled then as he let the tears fall.

his entire mask shattered as his breath hitched, trying to hold back the sobs but only came out as strangled breaths. 

“hey, hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” 

you held up his chin and rocked him back and forth, slowly. “just because other people seem to be going through bigger things doesn’t mean that you should invalidate your problems. if something’s hurting you, that’s enough of a problem to take care of it.”

tamaki began to shake as he suddenly clutched onto you, his body trembling as he nodded. 

what would mirio, nejire, nighteye, fatgum-- what would they think of him now?

“whatever is going around in your head right now will all quiet soon, i promise you, ‘mkay?”

“it’s okay. it’s okay. you’re okay.” 

AIZAWA SHOTA

“you didn’t eat,” you said, staring at the takeout that was left in its packaging. 

you heard shota mumble under his sleeping bag. “i’ll eat after.”

“after what?” you said back from the kitchen. 

you weren’t exactly mad at him, you could say-- it was more of disappointment, maybe? concern? he had always been so concerned about his students that he forgot to take care of himself-- no wonder why he was so angry lately. 

(and no, it wasn’t his resting face, he was genuinely burnt-out the last couple of days and it wasn’t getting better.)

“shota, come on,” you said softly. “or else i’m taking your sleeping bag away from you.”

aizawa’s head emerged from the bag, the light from the laptop giving a lovely display of his eyebags. “oh?”

he smirked, even though he seemed so drained.

“yes,” you said, pointing your nose up in the air and crossing your arms. “and you better go eat before i take it away.”

aizawa raised an eyebrow, but obliged.

you watched him eat, but he kept his laptop on the table the whole time.

he was looking through the profiles of all his students, and that was-- insane

despite how much had happened to him, he always thought of someone else first, putting everyone else above him.

“you’re going to overwork yourself,” you finally said. 

“amazing,” aizawa sighed back. “had no clue.”

“oh, c’mon,” you egged. “you matter too, ya know.”

you noticed how tense his shoulders were, how his gaze was fixated to the screen and the way his veins were protruding from lack of sleep, and how red his eyes were.

sure, most of the time, this was normal-- but you just had this gut feeling that something was wrong.

“i suppose you’re not wrong,” aizawa ventured. “but sometimes, you realize that students make up most of the world. i want them to grow..”

his gaze on the screen broke.

“and for them to know a world of love and kindess, not-- whatever this is.”

you looked at him before wrapping your arms around him and kissing his forehead. “but they have a teacher who works so hard already, and you-- you deserve a break. you’re always working so hard, and you have to remember that you matter, too, okay?”

you smiled sadly. “i need to go to work, but please finish the takeout for me, hmm?”

he never told you this, of course-- but yeah, he thought of your voice every time he wanted to take a break. he never forgot the words you said. 

MASHIRAO OJIRO

being forgotten was something that came way too easily for him.

everyone in class 1a was so good at everything-- they all either had good looks, a nice voice, talents, a cool quirk, technique, charisma, and he?

ojiro felt like he didn’t have anything.

but what did it matter, right? being the forgotten one was fine to him, at least. he was able to take time for himself. 

...kind of.

he was heading back from ua into the dorms, walking alone when he realized it started to rain.

picking up his bags, he ran, putting them under his shoulders so that they didn’t get wet-- it wasn’t a long walk, but it was a lot to have to run back and make sure everything stayed dry

“wait!”

ojiro turned around to find you, carrying your backpack in the air and waving your arms. “slow-” you panted, “down! god, where’d all the rain come from??”

he chuckled slightly, until he noticed your bag getting soaked, and before he knew it, ojiro called you over and said he could carry your bag

“are you sure?” you asked, in-between breaths. “i doubt you can carry both-”

ojiro laughed and waved his tail like a hand. “i can carry it.”

your face lit up. “thanks! okay, now let’s run back, c’mon.”

you two ran as fast as you could, trying not to slip as the rain began to pour even harder against your backs. 

but when you opened the doors to the dorms and your bag was completely dry, ojiro smiled.

(also y’all he’s an underrated king DO Y’ALL KNOW HOW PRECIOUS HIS SMILE IS?? PLS-)

“thanks,” you grinned. “your quirk is actually really cool. not just for keeping stuff dry, but uh, thanks. i appreciate it.”

something inside of him made his heart swell. 

“really?” ojiro asked. “do you really- is that true?”

he didn’t want to get his hopes up too quickly, but the way you nodded proudly and affirmed it was something he could never forget.

“yeah!” you said. “just because you’re not flashy as other people doesn’t mean that you’re a plain, boring person, you know that? you’re actually really cool!”

“huh. thanks,” he noted-- and don’t worry, he walked back into his dorm room with a grin on his face the whole time.

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hey bbys! reminder to go take a break and drink some water if you’re reading this! y’all are so amazing and beautiful, and please remember that you’re valid as well. what you did today was more than enough, please remember that!! i’m very proud of you for getting through today. ily <3

qotd, what song reminds you of a fictional character 👀

join my family! 

list of family members: @kirishimuhhhhh​, @xuxisushi-1​, @kirishima-my-beloved​, @msminsuga​, @farfetchedparanoia​, @satis-mangata​, @moonhere​, @renegadedeca​, @viridevi​​, @cherriiirose​​ <3

☂ requests are open for mha + hq!! ☂

[mayhem-ensues]

Scarlet Blaze thoughts

I will preface this by saying that Edelgard is my favourite Fire Emblem character, so if you're looking for a critical take on her or her routes, you are better off looking elsewhere. That being said, I did have kind of a big problem with the route, but that's more related to Three Hopes story in general rather than anything Edelgard specific.

I have to start off by saying that I was worried before the demo that we were going to get a sanitized version of Edelgard in this game and I'm so glad that we didn't (yet, I don't think it will now but the full game could theoretically still disappoint me in this regard). Her scenes talking about changing her plans with Hubert were my favorite scenes from the demo, in particular her line about miracles was so good and so right for her.

Also seeing Caspar and Linhardt's dads on screen was great. The whole chapter of Edelgard outmaneuvering Arundel and Ferdie's Dad was my favourite part of the demo and their realization that she'd already secured the support of the Empire's most important nobles was a big part of that.

Also Edelgard reinstating the Southern Church as a tool to use against the Central Church is such a great power move, and using Bernie's shitty dad as assassination bait is even better. Obviously in the narrative of 3H Edelgard was constrained more by having to act around the Slither's so seeing Edelgard get to take full control of the Empire was excellent.

Plus Monica is a fun addition to the cast, and the fact that she was already friends with Edelgard from before the game really emphasizes how fucked up and evil the Slithers are. Like, they really took one of Edelgard's only friends and replaced them with one of their own so she's forced to live with the fact that a friend not only died for her, but also that the Slithers could do again if they wanted to.

Also I have to say that I am very excited to see Rhea in the antagonist role without her Crimson Flower characterization. I think how she reacts in CF makes perfect sense (most people don't react well when they have to relive every single one of their traumas after all) but it does make her a way less interesting antagonist and foil for Edelgard than she could and should have been. I'm not getting my hopes up but I really do hope this game does have Edelgard and Rhea interact as enemies and explore some of their similarities and of course, their extreme differences.

If I have one negative and this is tbf, my biggest problem with Three Hopes as a whole so far, is that I think skipping through so much of the build up that is done in White Clouds is going to cause problems with the rest of the story and I think there are already some pretty clear signs of that in Scarlet Blaze. To illustrate my point, the fourth chapter of Scarlet Blaze is about the Empire invading Garreg Mach and I want to draw a comparison between said invasion in Three Houses and in Three Hopes.

The Invasion of Garreg Mach in Three Houses is probably my favourite chapter in the game. Byleth and the rest of the Black Eagles have spent nearly a full calendar year calling Garreg Mach their home, and now because of the decisions they made they must walk into their home as invaders. Not only that they also must fight people who genuinely trusted them, and who they betrayed. It’s an extremely powerful moment and the fights against characters like Rhea, Seteth and Flayn have genuine weight to them and the whole feeling is enhanced by the music and the performances from the voice cast and everything about it just works (okay except for not getting a proper cutscene to show Byleth going into their dragon coma.)

Three Hopes doesn’t have any of that. All the characters spent like a couple of weeks at Garreg Mach before they split, and Shez has zero reason to feel any different about fighting people like Seteth and Flayn than they do any other enemy. A moment that was impactful in 3H is being repeated here but stripped of all the things that made it impactful. I know we haven’t seen the battle at Garreg Mach yet because the demo doesn’t go quite that far, but I do feel like this is an instance where Three Hopes White Clouds speedrun is dulling the game’s story.

Anyway that's my thoughts on the part of Scarlet Blaze the demo gave to us. I'll post about the Deer and the support conversations a bit later.

[storiesforallfandoms]

childhood secrets ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal

word count: 1711

request?: yes!

shady80smusicsingercolor “Hey! Can i request something

Hannibal l x reader

The reader kept her childhood a secret from everyone,until she was watching news about a teen getting bullied,she remembers her childhood and just cries.Hannibal notices and goes run up to her,ask what's wrong.She explain what happen,that her childhood friends used make fun of her,or calling her weirdo.Hannibal comforts her

Hope is okay❤”

description: after hearing the story of a teenager’s tragic passing, unwanted memories are brought back to her

pairing: hannibal lecter x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, mentions of bullying

masterlist

“Did you hear about the Thompson girl?” Zeller asked as we examined some DNA for a case.

“Who’s the Thompson girl, first and foremost?” I asked.

“She was friends with Abigail Hobbs when she was sent to that psychiatric facility,” Price explained. “They were room neighbors I think.”

“Oh! That Hannah girl! What happened to her?”

“Her parents found her dead in her room. Suicide.”

I was so shocked at the response that I dropped the tool in my hand. Both of them looked at me for a moment as I just looked down at my hands. I was trying to calm the growing PTSD rising in me.

“The poor thing,” I finally managed to say.

“Yeah,” Price said. “I think she was in the facility because of mental illness. Her parents put her in there after her first attempt.”

Zeller shook his head. “Poor thing. They shouldn’t have let her check out so soon. (Y/N), are you okay?”

I was still staring down at my hands. They were shaking and it was getting hard to breathe. I could barley register the fact that Zeller had asked me something. They were both looking at me, expectantly.

“What? Yes, I’m fine,” I responded. “I gotta get some fresh air.”

I threw my coat and gloves on a nearby table and quickly raced for the exit. I had to wait for the elevator to take me to the ground floor, but the wait was antagonizing. My chest and throat felt tight, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

When the elevator door opened, I was faced with Jack Crawford, Will Graham, and Hannibal Lecter.

“(Y/N),” Crawford said. “Are you okay?”

I couldn’t respond this time. I had to get out, I had to be away from there.

The breathe of fresh air in my lungs was just what I needed, but I was still feeling panicked. Flashbacks were running through my head, things I had repressed for all those years coming back all at once, hitting me like a freight train. I sat down on the sidewalk, trying to calm my breathing enough to go back inside.

“Miss. (Y/L/N)?”

I looked up to see Hannibal stood behind me.

“I’m fine, Dr. Lecter,” I told him. “You don’t have to check on me.”

“You’re very obviously not okay. You’re breathing is abnormal and you look as though you’ve been crying.”

I felt my cheek and was shocked to find that Hannibal was right, I had been crying. I hadn’t even realized it before.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, but the crack in my voice gave me away.

Hannibal sat next to me. I tried not to let him see my face, but I knew there was no turning back now. He had seen me in the elevator, he saw how unhappy I was at that moment. Any other person would just think I was overwhelmed from work, or maybe one of our discoveries had upset me, but Hannibal was a talented psychiatrist. He probably already knew what was wrong with me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I chuckled. “How often does that one work?”

“Enough times to keep me employed.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Zeller and Price were telling me about a girl that used to be friends with Abigail, Hannah Thompson. She...she...”

“I know,” Hannibal finished for me, luckily. Just thinking about having to finish that sentence made my throat tight again. “I wasn’t aware you knew her so well.”

“I didn’t, but I know...the feeling. Like you’re trapped in your own mind and there’s only one way out of it.”

Hannibal was looking at me, waiting for me to continue but not pushing me to go any further than I felt comfortable with. I wouldn’t have to go any further with my explanation if I didn’t want to, I knew he wouldn’t force me. We could’ve dropped it right then and there.

But my mouth moved before my mind could comprehend what I was sating, “I was the weird girl in school. While other girls wanted to be princesses or astronauts, I wanted to be a forensic scientist. I always had a fascination with crime and forensics and such. At first, I was just an outcast with no friends, until a group of girls took me in and added me to their group in high school. They weren’t super popular girls, but they also weren’t my level of outcast or anything, so, understandably, I was excited.”

“I’d assume it wasn’t as ideal of a situation as you were led to believe.”

I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes again. “They only befriended me so I could be their verbal punching bag. It started mild at first, just some friendly jokes that I could throw back at them. Then they started calling me the weird girl, the freak who liked death and murder. They’d make fun of me for reading stuff about unsolved murders, or even just murder mystery novels. They told me I’d probably grow up to be one of the unfound murderers in those stories. They put me down at every chance they got, but they were the only friends I had so I just...I dealt with it. I even gave up the opportunity to shadow at a police department during my senior year because I was afraid of them making fun of me more.”

“What was the tipping point?” Hannibal asked. “Obviously they are no longer around. I assume either you got rid of them or...they left themselves.”

“A bit of both really,” I responded. “One day, their bullying just got too much for me. My parents never liked the group, so I felt like I couldn’t go to them because they’d just tell me ‘I told you so’ - not because that’s how my parents are but because that was my irrational fear - and the teachers and guidance councilors and principals at school were garbage. They did nothing unless they actually witnessed the bullying first hand, and even then it was always a slap on the wrist punishment. So, I thought...I thought I only had one way out.”

I was still half conscious when my parents found me. My mother’s screams were permanently etched in my head, her sobs breaking through the otherwise muffled sounds I was hearing. Even when I blacked out, all I could hear in my head was my mother.

“They sent me to the same hospital Abigail was in,” I continued, skipping over the nasty parts that I couldn’t bare to relive. “My parents said I needed actual, medical help, that they couldn’t ignore my mental health issues anymore. I was there for months. I met people just like me, people who understood what I was going through. I made friends with a lot of them, and they’re all still in my life right now. My high school friend group came to visit me at one point. They seemed genuine enough with their apologies, saying they didn’t realize how much I took their words to heart and how they didn’t know how dark of a place I was in mentally. I don’t know how true any of that was, but they put on a good act. When they finished their groveling, I told them to go fuck themselves and to never contact me again. They were...offended, to say the least. Apparently they spread rumors about me at school, but I finished my senior year at a different school so it didn’t really matter to me. Went off to do forensic science in college and...here I am.”

For a moment, a look of pride passed over Hannibal’s face, as if the end of my story made him feel proud for me. I guess it made me feel proud, too, but sometimes I kicked myself for sticking around with that toxic friend group for far too long.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” I admitted. “Not anyone who didn’t know me at the time, anyways. I tried to keep it repressed, but hearing about Hannah Thompson...it brought all those memories back for me. Maybe I’m not over it like I think I am.”

“Mental trauma when your brain is still developing is not something one can easily get over,” Hannibal said. “It takes years, and even then those painful memories could follow you to your grave.”

I winced at the thought of having to battle with those memories until the day I died. Part of me was still worried that they would be the reason I would eventually die.

“But it is important to know that your old friend group was wrong,” he continued. “There is nothing wrong with being interested in something that the masses aren’t interested in. I’d argue that being interested in murder and police work is much better than wanting to grow up and be a princess or an astronaut. Your job helps the police to find serial killers and to save innocent people from being their victims. There’s nothing weird about that, not in my eyes.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter. I think I just needed to hear that when I was younger and...no one really said it to me before.”

“I’m saying it now,” he said. “If you ever feel overcome with those memories again, please do not hesitate to call me. A beautiful and brilliant mind such as yourself should not be worrying over what irrelevant people have to say about you.”

I felt myself blush, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the reassurance Hannibal was giving me, or if it was from the compliment.

“I want to sit out here for a little while longer,” I told him. “I still need some air, and to come down from what happened back there. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I don’t have to, but I will,” he decided. “I want to make sure you’re okay before I join my collegues again.”

I smiled at him again. I definitely wasn’t about to fight him on staying there with me. Quite the opposite, actually. If there was anyone I wanted with me in that moment, it was Hannibal.

[shayberri789]

He makes me so ill. Some things I'd like to add:

(I've put in a readmore because good lord did this get long. Sorry op)

Ive had a theory that those meltdowns Malory described - reliving his death during the day - is the same thing that happens to Noah when he starts to become untethered to the leyline. You know how he relives his death in bllb? I think it's the same, and I don't know if that's better or worse. I think the closer you are to the event, the more often it happens. Because somewhere in time you are always dying, and the more connected you are to that time, the more you'll relive it

I think gansey likely had been gaslighting himself for a long time about his death, before he proved to himself that magic is real. Can you imagine, Baby gansey, miraculously alive, convinced he'd died and was saved by a mythical dead king, but there's not a scratch on him? Parents who love him but are still distant, not a single real friend he can trust, no one quite sure what to do with this strange boy? Gansey, stop saying you died. Look at you. You're perfectly healthy. Magic isn't real gansey. Your imagination is getting away with you - if you'd been stung by bees, you'd be dead gansey. But you're quite alive (but I did die! 10 year old gansey says desperately.) Stop being dramatic gansey. Stop talking about this nonsense - youre making your parents look bad. Dick, this is an important meeting, please don't bring up your welsh king or imagined death tonight okay dear? People will think you're crazy. Oh look at the rich kid! Has to make up some trauma in order to be special. Go ride in your fancy car asshole and stop mocking people with real trauma

And for years.... on and on and gansey is like fuck? Did I make it up? I need to stop with this I'm causing Problems for people. I'm being over dramatic. No one believes I died. I'm not traumatised! I'm perfectly fine! Look at me! Can a traumatised person do THIS? *whips up a blinding smile*

But then why do these nightmares persist? Why is the vision so clear in my mind every time I see a bee? My therapist doesn't believe I'm telling the truth and they'd know best.

Just imagine two years of everyone and yourself gaslighting you (intentionally or not) that nothing happened. You're Perfectly Fine. You're the son of the Ganseys, boy, act like it. You're not going to get any help or sympathy if you melt down or show distress so you better hide it. Hide your fear and your anxiety because that's the only way you're Valid. The only existence you're allowed. Keep repressing it and bottling it up until it's too much and you - need a break.

A short holiday to somewhere with a leyline, I don't know. Gansey splits off from his family when he Hears the locals talking about a headless black dog wandering the fields at dusk. Gansey is 12 and he has to see this, so he goes, along with a village boy who claims he can summon the rain when he sings in the fields, and who's seen the dog more than anyone

Dusk comes, with no dog in sight, so they decide to pass the time with the boy singing. And the rain comes, and there in the distance is a headless black dog that never seems to be closer than 6 meters, but to gansey, it's enough. It's proof.

He returns home dripping wet and filled with hope (goodness dick! Did you fall into a fountain? No, I got caught in some rain, is all. What? There hasn't been any rain in this town for days.) (For once, their denial is more evidence - because that was magic rain, and for one, gansey wasn't the only one to see it)

He researches the town and learns about leylines, and it starts.

He posters his parents into holidays all over the world, to carefully chosen places so he can do more research, and soon enough he stops bothering and just goes on his own. His parents are glad hes found something to occupy himself with that aren't his delusions. In time, they forget

I think it's said that Gansey spent the most time with Mallory than anywhere else barring Henrietta. What do you think it was like, working with him? This old eccentric man, just as much an expert in leylines as Gansey has become, and he's so kind. He's the fist person to believe gansey when he tells him about his death. It's more vulnerable than gansey has been with someone in years, and it sirs between them like a weighted secret. The nightmares never stopped - maybe it was after the first few that he opened up to malory. Maybe he's not used to being able to rely on someone else. Maybe he just barely misses stepping on a bee and it's too much - years of fear and anxiety and uncertainty and being the only person who knows and believes what happened and honestly sometimes that latter one is harder to convince himself is true, but he nearly just made a repeat and malory is looking at him funny and no no he can't be weak, he can't show this affects him anymore, he has a reputation to uphold - but he's only 14. 15. He's a kid, and thats a lot of emotions and trauma to hold and press down, and he's been so fixated on this for years that his anxiety over his dear death (what COULD have happened), the stress, and the memory of what DID happen all conflates and suddenly he's relieving it, as if he had died.

Malory is alarmed of course and tries to help but what can he do? What can gansey do? And when it's over gansey cannot stand the looks he gets and the knowledge that malory saw his mask (survival mechanism) break that he feels crushed, and so he flees, and distance makes it easier to breathe

And life goes on. Gansey spends YEARS of his adolescence pretending he'd okay and he's got it down to an ART. He dates girls all over the world because his parents kept asking if he has a girlfriend yet. They never last long. He has a long distance once when he moves to Henrietta but when life gets too much, and he never really cared that much for her anyway, he breaks it off because it's easier.

And this is all just an expansion on what you've been saying so far but now I want to draw attention to that one part in trb (forgive me, I do not have my books with me so I can't quote) where gansey talks about how "his friends kept walking away from him, but he could never seem to walk away from them"

THAT gets me because - that's a 180. He's spent his life running from people. Making connections and leaving them easily. Ronan Adam and Noah are so important to him because not only did they believe him about magic, they believed him about his death (maybe it was a little harder for Adam. Maybe Adam was jealous of this second chance, because he knew that if he fucked up and his dad killed him for real, there'd be no second chances. But that's a story for another day. And I don't think hed let it show. Even if gansey is more intuitive (and anxious) than anyone knows. But it doesn't matter) and they take it as truth, simple. But what happened, in those early months, to win these boys gansey's loyalty to such a degree that he could sell his home to help them? That he would choose again and again to follow THEM (as well), to keep walking back to them when they push him away, to make him willing to die again for real for them? That he CANT BRING HIMSELF to leave, when every time before then, gansey had fled? Packed up and moved on?

And what about all the evidence that gansey's self esteem is in the gutter, but his self confidence is so pristine that no one notices that he thinks his life is worthless? That he has to prove he deserves to be alive? That he believes he DIDNT (maybe DOESNT) deserve his second chance? That he thinks he has no right to ever be upset, afraid, angry, self-pitting, depressed, traumatised? That he has no right to need help, let alone ask for it, because he has been taught to do everything himself (and isnt that just a fun house mirror to adam. Same issue, different expression. Richard gansey, army of one, oh so slowly learning that that doesnt need to be the case. But ganse, that doesnt mean you have to be the general), and in fact he has a RESPONSIBILITY to helping others? What about the fact that he doesn't think his friends would love him as much as he does them, because why would they? He's done the bare minimum. What about the fact that he doesn't think he deserves his friends, so he's blind to the loyalty they have to him? He feels like they're all walking away, but "if They (gansey) die, I (ronan) die too" "then you've killed him (ronan), Adam thought (at the prospect of taking ronan away from gansey). Adam giving up his wish for a future from glendower immediately when he realizes gansey will die. The fact that Adam, in his pov, never wants to walk away from gansey. He only wants to stand beside him, not behind him.

But gansey can't see any of this, because he doesn't know to look

And another thing that gets me is that - gansey has more masks than the Happy Mask Salesman from Majora's Mask, because he's had to shove himself so deep down and dark just to function and be accepted. But he so, so desperately wants to be known. There's so much evidence for it, but lemme list the ones I have off the top of my head:

Blue returns the journal to gansey, and it fits so perfectly in his hands, and he opens it and wants blue to see they're long acquainted, him and the journal, and he wants to show her that "this is the real me" (TRB)

When gansey goes to visit his parents, he contemplates how the Camero makes him feel on the outside how he feels on the inside. Despite all the layers, gansey wants to be himself, and he wants to show that to people. The car is an extension of that desire (TRB)

In this same scene, Gansey thinks about when he got the care and his dad said "why did he even want that car?" And his mom replied "oh, I know why." Gansey fixated on this, and even all this time later wants to ask her what she meant. Because she said something that meant she knew the real gansey, and he wants to know what that was

I think we all remember that scene in TRK when Gansey is talking to Henry in the hole, and Gansey contemplates what "gansey-like" was. How everyone thought they knew but he was always disappointed because it was surface level stuff. How delighted he was when Henry said secrets and was right, he had actually seen Gansey, and knew what gansey like was

And then at the party, I don't have any actual quotes for this but I could have sworn there was a passage where gansey muses that he felt strangely known by the Vancouver crowd

And the final point I want to bring to attention is that gansey build these masks because he had to, because no one wanted to see the broken and messy bits of gansey. But again and again, blue is the opposite. She outright hates gansey's masks. She really only starts to like him when she sees moments of genuine joy and enthusiasm in him, when he's being sincere or serious. When he starts to peel back his masks for her. How when she saw him afraid, he seemed more real to her. How she fell in love with him, just a bit, when she saw his ghost on the leyline, stripped of all pretence. How her favourite gansey is the quiet one late at night, on phone calls and phone rides, where he stops needing to pretend. That one scene in TRB, after Adam and gansey fought, and blue tells him about malory's failed ritual, and gansey makes a snarky comment and dismisses it with "ignore me, I'm being self-pitying" (which I don't think I need to comment on at this point). Blue replies '"you are being self pitying." But blue kind of liked him better that way'

Idk the fact that blue loves gansey most for the parts of himself he shut away because he'd been taught they weren't acceptable, that no one wanted to see them, that he had no right to have them let alone show them, but he is tired of masks and just wants to be known and understood, and here is blue (and noah and adam and ronan, though those are to different extents/directions) who loves him more for those parts. They're perfect for each other your honour

I'm done now but I told you I'm mentally ill for this boy. My son. My blorbo. I could say so much more about him but I'm tired now so this will have to suffice. I'm always thinking about him. He devastates me

so i'm rereading trc with my friend and we're currently on bllb and i just read chapter 30 and in it blue's asking malory what gansey used to be like before he moved to henrietta and the gansey that malory describes to blue is so different from the gansey she currently knows and i just cant stop thinking about it.

first off, malory describes gansey as "small" as in not just his height but as in gansey was young and it makes sense because at the time gansey was 15 but it just kind of does something to my heart when i think about young, small gansey trying to figure out why he's still alive.

malory then goes on to say, "He was still trying to prove that he hadn't just hallucinated. He was still quite obsessed with the event [his death] itself." gansey first died when he was 10 and to be obsessing over your death for FIVE years trying to convince others but mostly yourself that you didn't make it up that you actually died and not some part of a childs imagination it must've fucked with him so bad???

then malory tells blue exactly how obsessed gansey was with his death and was to the extent that he was always drawing bees and hornets and "Got screaming nightmares over it- he had to get his own place since I couldn't sleep with it [...] Sometimes these fits would happen in the day, too. We'd just be toddling through some riding path in Leicestershire and next thing I knew he'd be on the ground clawing his face like a mental patient." the gansey that blue currently knows doesnt act like that but this was only two years prior its fucking INSANE and it's here blue starts to think about the facade gansey had learned to throw up since he was a kid.

AND IT GETS WORSE SOMEHOW?? earlier in bllb in chapter 3, gansey talks about how he felt like running and how it had been a long time since he had felt that way. at the time it didn't make sense like wdym by that gansey but then back in chapter 30 malory tells blue how gansey just disappeared one day. left most of his bags and left without a word to anyone not even his family who then called malory to ask for gasneys whereabouts. "He picked himself up and moved on so easily, so quickly. He had done it so many times before England, Jane, and it was old hat to him."

it makes blue rethink every conversation she had with gansey previously, similarly to when adam heard gansey's voice of fear in the cave in chapter one where gansey had the panic attack because its around this book where the gangsey start to figure, as blue puts it, "It was more like the Gansey she'd seen was a partial truth."

it's so very easy to pass off ganseys insecurities and his feelings about how he should comfort other people but they shouldn't do the same for him because he's had it the easiest (his words not mine) because he himself skips over it so fast. like he'll mention something and then act like he's never thought or said it, like its something normal which really isnt and then it slowly makes sense that gansey throughout the series, starts to lose that mask (there's multiple masks but thats a conversation for another time) and the readers and the gangsey get to see what the real gansey is like instead of the bulletproof, untouchable gansey they're used to seeing.

the idea of gansey running is insane in a good way because its nothing like the gansey we know, plus paired with the fact about how young gansey has me clawing at the walls because he's just this kid desperate to prove he wasn't hallucinating, trying to find some purpose to his life before he finds it in henrietta. a kid who was still terrified of his death who relived it, screaming every night who still had panic attacks anywhere and everywhere and would end up clawing at himself because there's hornets everywhere. a kid who doesn't stay in one place too long who learns to put on an easy smile to convince everyone okay and gets so good at it that it works and people think that hes normal and okay when he's anything but.

idk pre canon gansey is something that i need to inject into my bloodstream and analyse in a lab.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Little Harbor - Beach Day Part 2

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on my writing so far, it means so much to me. I’ve decided that the Beach Day Imagine needed a Part 2 and spent last night manically writing 6.6k words of fluff, angst and semi smut.

In this part, Abby and the reader finally make their trip to Little Harbor and spend the night at the cabin there. The reader finds out they don’t know everything about Abby and there are some things in her past that still weigh heavily on her mind. 

TW for death/loss (Seattle plot for the Salt Lake Squad), light nudity, language and mention of suicide and mention of blood

This ist the playlist I curated for this fic. Make sure you disable shuffle and listen to the songs in order for them to fit! (It’s called Little Harbor on Spotify and has a picture of Abby in the thumbnail)

Little Harbor

The last few days had been a blur of happiness and secrecy. Stolen kisses in empty hallways, sitting next to each other in the cafeteria with your knees touching, sunsets in the watchtower staircase, and sweaty hugs whenever you picked up Abby after her morning training. It was clear to you by now that there was no going back and no stopping this. You were absolutely, hopelessly falling for the tall blonde soldier and she actually seemed to feel the same, which was still unbelievable to you.

Abby had taken up work with some of the combat and strategy trainers, educating them on the different groups she had encountered on her journey and on their territory, tactics, and relationships with each other. Lev had come in to explain more about the Seraphites, their whistle language, and their infrastructure. Even though it was unlikely that the Seraphites or WLF would come knocking at the Fireflies’ door, they still wanted to know as much as possible about the current state of the world.

The Rattlers were a different story altogether. Lev refused to speak about them and even though Abby had told the Firefly leaders about them as soon as she was conscious after her emergency surgeries, there was still much to talk about. She tried as hard as she could to remember every little detail and she got incredibly frustrated with herself when she found gaps in her memory even though that wasn’t her fault. The torture and mistreatment at the hands of these bastards had been so immensely traumatizing that her mind refused to let her remember the worst parts.

While the past few days with her had been all fun and exciting, the evenings had been more difficult and it had taken a lot of strength from both of you to get through this together. Abby was just learning to confide in you and talk about her feelings while you struggled with being there for her the right way, having never experienced anything close to the terror she must have felt. After the first day in the strategy room, Abby had knocked on your door just as you were about to go to bed and practically fallen apart in your arms. The Fireflies had decided to send a few teams back to Santa Barbara to see if there were any survivors and capture or help the people they found, depending on their previous alliance. They had offered Abby to go back with them, which she declined, and made it clear that she had to try to identify every single person they brought back.

You just hoped that the only people left there were the other prisoners who had freed themselves. It would be horrifying to know that some of the torturers could soon be sitting somewhere in this very building, practically at arm’s reach from Abby and Lev.

Although the others had advised her not to, Abby had told Lev about all the plans and tasks to come and he had agreed to help identifying people but remained silent about his thoughts on all this.

Trying your best to make Abby’s first week as an official Firefly less hard on her, you had organized a mission for you both to go to Little Harbor. You were supposed to check up on the little cabin there, throw out anything that wasn’t necessary and stock it with a few supplies in case someone in the area needed them in the future. The best thing about Little Harbor was the beautiful beach that stretched in a perfect arc and had the most beautiful sunsets you had ever seen.

You had just talked to your friend in admin and gotten the confirmation for the mission. For a second, you debated telling Abby at lunch in an hour but you simply couldn’t wait. Rolling up the note with the assignment on it and shoving it in your back pocket, you rushed toward the east wing of the base, practically jumping with every step.

As you came closer to the strategy room, you heard muffled voices. There seemed to be a heated discussion. You really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you were already at the door and didn’t feel like you should knock and interrupt them in the middle of their conversation.

“Oh come on, Abby, what are you not telling us? You have to know more about her than that!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know where they lived and I don’t know where she is now! I met them the first time at the WLF outpost in the middle of nowhere around Seattle and the last time I saw her she was in Santa Barbara. She’s probably dead, anyway, she was injured and all alone.”

She? Who were they talking about? Abby had never told you about a woman in Santa Barbara. Maybe another prisoner?

Someone slammed a hand on the table.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we lost her again after all this time. At least we know Joel paid for what he did at Salt Lake.”

This sparked your attention. You knew Abby had grown up at the Salt Lake outpost before the massacre. Was Joel the guy who killed all the Fireflies there, including the doctors?

“What do you want with her anyway?” That was Abby again. She sounded bitter. “It’s not like we have the means to make a vaccine, Joel made sure of that. You’ll see what she did with the rattlers when you get there. Maybe you’ll find her body, too, and I can finally have some fucking peace.”

There was silence for a brief moment. Then a woman said: “Alright, let’s take a break. The teams are driving out to Santa Barbara tomorrow, then we’ll see what we find. Abby, thank you for everything you’ve told us. Take some time for yourself, I’ll call for you when the reports are in and hopefully a few survivors, too. I’ll see the rest of you after lunch.”

You could hear feet shuffling and chairs being pushed around. Quickly, you tiptoed away from the door and halfway through the corridor, then you turned around just as the door opened. Abby came out first, frowning and with her hands balled into firsts. When she saw you, her face lit up and she relaxed, taking a few big steps towards you and awkwardly coming to a halt in front of you, just a little bit too close.

“Perfect timing, huh?” She smiled at you before nodding to a few others that passed you.

You forced yourself to focus and smiled back.

“Yeah, I came to tell you that our mission is approved. We can leave as soon as possible.”

“Oh, that’s great! Martha just said I could have the day off and probably need to report back in tomorrow night earliest. Should we just pack now and get going after lunch?”

“Good idea. Say we meet in the cafeteria in 15?” you suggested.

Abby nodded. “See you there.”

-

As you packed your backpack, you tried to process what you had just heard. Abby knew the man who had run amok at the Firefly Hospital and apparently he was dead now. There had been another woman in Santa Barbara, and she had something to do with a possible vaccine? You knew the Fireflies had been extremely invested in the search for a vaccine after the outbreak, but they had given up on it a long time ago. Now they just tried to build safe zones without any infected in order to build communities of Fireflies, other survivors, and anyone else who wanted to join you.

Why were the others so keen on finding the other woman? What did Abby have to do with Joel and the massacre at the hospital? And why was this whole thing still affecting her so badly after all those years?

You wanted to try to talk to Abby later and find out what had gone down in Santa Barbara and at Salt Lake, but you also knew she had been waiting for this day to finally come so she could get out of here and distract herself for a while. Who were you to ruin this by forcing her to relive her trauma all over again?

Closing the zipper on your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder, you decided to just take it a step at a time. First, you had to get some food into your stomach.

-

Abby was excited about the trip and spent almost the whole meal asking you questions about the bay and the cabin. She told you she had spent some time in cabins up in Washington with her old WLF crew, but it had been snowing back then and the summer here was just an entirely different experience.

Lev was a bit sad he couldn’t go with you, but you promised him a beach bonfire in the next two weeks. He was way too happy about his new friends and tasks to sulk about your little duo mission. The boy was a fantastic archer and was now tasked with teaching his craft to younger trainees and older soldiers. He was delighted at being taken so seriously by adults for the first time in his life. His lessons at school were going well apparently, he enjoyed history and biology a lot.

Abby was attentively listening to him talking about crop diversification and the produce grown here during the different seasons as a group of fully-equipped soldiers came into the cafeteria. They seemed excited about their mission and were making a ton of noise, jeering and shoving each other around as they picked up their rations for the next two days from the serving counter. Abby and Lev both went quiet, poking around in their food and seeming to be holding their breaths until the squad had left.

Lev suddenly looked up at Abby with tears in his eyes.

“Do you think any of the Rattlers survived?” His voice was high pitched and he sounded like he was about to choke.

“Oh, Lev.” The blonde put her arm around his shoulder, her hands looking huge on his small frame. “I have no idea, I’m so sorry. I’m pretty sure the other prisoners were freed and got their revenge. She also freed some of the walkers in the area. It must have been bad. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I promise they’ll never lay a hand on you ever again.”

There she was again, the mysterious woman. Now you’d at least have a valid reason to bring it up. The boy sighed, then he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up. He waved over to a few other kids waiting at the exit.

“I need to go. Math class.” He grimaced and you and Abby both had to laugh. No one enjoyed math, but a certain basic knowledge was necessary for everyone here.

“See you tomorrow, Lev. I’ll bring her back safely,” you promised him and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but he gave you a genuinely thankful nod before tapping her shoulder as a goodbye and running over to his friends.

Abby smiled at you, her eyes lighting up as she remembered your plans for the day.

“You ready to go?” she asked, standing up and grabbing her backpack.

“Let’s get out of here.” You put on your backpack as well, took your plates and placed them in a plastic tub next to the counter.

In the empty corridor leading to the garage, Abby snuck her fingers between yours, sending sparks over your skin and making butterflies dance in your stomach. She pulled you toward her and after a quick glance left and right, she gave you a soft peck on the lips. You reacted instantly, burying your fingers in her hair and pulling her in for a second kiss, this time less innocent. Abby chuckled and grabbed your shoulder to push you away just a few inches and look you in the eyes.

You felt yourself blush and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

“Ugh, sorry, I just missed you all morning. Let’s just go.”

Grabbing her hand and pulling her with you, you entered the garage and quickly said hello to your coworkers before checking out the keys and leading Abby to your truck. Your colleagues didn’t lose a single word about the hand-holding and you were thankful for their discretion. They were your closest friends at the base and they knew you’d tell them more as soon as you were ready.

The drive out to the cabin took about an hour, one which you spent in blissful silence. You had rolled the windows down again and just like the last time, the summer air was whirling through the cabin and playing with your hair. Abby let an arm hang out of her window and took in the view of the different hills and forest patches, the beaches, and the beautiful meadows. She looked serene, completely at peace with herself and the world.

When you arrived at the cabin, it was better than you had remembered. The little wooden cottage was still in good shape, firewood was stacked up at the back and there was a small front porch with a perfect view of the bay in front of you. Two wooden chairs and a table stood on the porch, completely grown over with moss.

You fumbled with the keys for a second, then you were inside. All the curtains were drawn, bathing the dusty room in heavy yellow light before you opened them and looked around. Abby was still standing at the doorstep, uncertain of what to do.

The room was perfectly equipped with a little kitchen unit, a table with four chairs, a worn-out striped couch, and a decently sized bed, luckily covered with a big sheet to stop it from getting unbearably dusty. A narrow door in the corner seemed to lead to a bathroom. You put your hands on your hips and turned to Abby.

“Well, what do you think? Too dusty for your liking?”

The blonde snapped out of her astonishment.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, it’s great! It looks so cozy, I think I’m gonna sleep better than I have for months.” She took a few steps toward you and wrapped her hands around your waist. “Especially when I’m sleeping next to you.”

“Oh, I thought you were gonna take the couch,” you said dryly. Abby’s eyes widened and you could tell she seriously thought she had overstepped until you wrapped your arms around her neck and snorted, immediately receiving a playful push backward that you put up with by holding on to her for dear life.

“You’re an asshole,” she laughed, “I got scared there for a second!” She planted a kiss on your lips and picked you up by your waist, making you squeal.

“I’m sorry, Abby, ahh! Please let me down!” you begged but you had to admit this was fun. The taller woman gently put you back on your feet, then she said: “Come on, let’s get settled here.”

She opened the windows while you tried the tap unsuccessfully before pulling the cover off the bed and revealing buttercup yellow sheets. Sweet. Abby used a towel to wipe the dust off the table before setting her bag on it and offering to take yours as well. She put all the supplies in the kitchen cabinet before announcing that she was going to find you some water.

“When you go outside, there should be a pump on the left side of the house. Make sure to pump for a while until you touch the water, it’s got to be disgusting,” you said as you started sweeping the floor with a broom.

“Yeah, I know how a cistern works, thanks.” She rolled her eyes at you. A minute later, you could hear the squeaking of the old metal pump and the gurgle of water seeing daylight for the first time in years. You put the broom in the corner and wiped your hands on your jeans. The bed looked inviting, but the beach called to you even louder. You could feel that this night would have a lasting impact on your life and your relationship with Abby.

After checking on the roof and the cistern, you made your way down to the beach and spent the afternoon swimming, reading, and chasing each other around. One time Abby actually tackled you too hard and you got sand everywhere - your mouth, your nose, your eyes, even under your bathing suit. Abby couldn’t stop apologizing and telling you how sorry she was and how she underestimated her own strength but you swore vengeance for later and laughed it off. In order to get rid of all the sand underneath your suit, you went into the water and took it off before whirling it around over your head and getting Abby all flustered.

You secretly wanted her to join you, but she seemed to be too timid to go that fast so you put your bathing suit back on and let yourself flop down next to her, purposely splashing water on her and making her squeal as the cold drops hit her hot skin. Following an impulse, you rolled over and on top of her, pressing your cold, wet body on her soft, warm back. This time, she forced herself to stay still and not throw you around again, instead resorting to cursing you and calling you an atrocious little eel, only making you laugh harder.

After a while, she gave up on fighting you and you rested your cheek on her warm shoulder, humming in satisfaction. This was nice. It would be even better when you’d lie next to her in bed.

The afternoon seemed to go on forever, time standing still as you two forgot all your worries and enjoyed living in this little bubble of sun, sea and happiness. Then, finally, the sun hung low over the sea, drenching the world in golden light and painting the water orange and the clouds pink. It was an explosion of light and color, the pure beauty you could only find in nature. Or in the person you loved most.

Looking over at Abby, you saw she was also watching the waves and the clouds, the soft light illuminating the tiny hairs on her face and arms and making the dried salt crystals that stuck to her skin glint like little diamonds. Her dark blonde hair was swaying in the slight breeze and her cheeks had a faint red tinge from the sun. She was mesmerizing.

You moved closer to her and drew your nose along her jawline, breathing on her neck and placing tiny kisses behind her ear and on her temple until she was humming and leaning into your touch. She slowly turned her head and grazed your open mouth with hers before running the tip of her tongue over your upper lip. She opened her eyes.

“This really is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Nothing has ever made me feel like this,” she mumbled without drawing back.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a while.”

“I wish you would have shown me sooner. But I’m really happy you’re doing it now.” She turned her torso towards you and brushed her fingers over your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could see the specks of gold in her iris, reflecting the last rays of sunlight and making her look ethereal and otherworldly. Oh god, how in the world had you found her? How had she found you? This was too good to be true, but you wanted to believe that it was, to believe that this moment could last forever.

In a desperate attempt to tell her all this, the beautiful chaos in your heart and your head that started spinning when you were with her, you leaned forward and kissed her. Hard, like you were scared this wasn’t real or it could be your last, then softer when you felt Abby tense up in surprise. She opened her mouth for you and you dragged your tongue against hers, tasting hints of salt and the fruit you had had earlier. You became more confident and placed your hand on her inner thigh which she took in with a gasp before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, her tongue now more forceful and demanding.

You couldn’t take the space between you any longer and crawled on top of her, straddling her hips as you looked down at her face, her green eyes half-closed and her mouth hanging open. The sun had said its farewells and vanished behind the horizon and the atmosphere created by the dusk suddenly hit you full force. Abby’s face was still softly lit by the pink clouds behind you while the sky behind her was a dark, heavy blue fading to black in the distance. She looked like a fucking painting.

“I’m so glad I found you,“ you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.

Abby answered by wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in. She kissed you with a burning passion, gentle but daring, sweet but hot, encasing you with her body and her mouth and pressing you so close that there wasn’t an inch left between you.

As she moved her hands down your body, pulling your hips closer and caressing your legs, she noticed the goosebumps all over your body and halted for a second.

“Are you cold, baby?”

You wanted to say no, but you had to admit you were starting to shiver under your still slightly damp swimming suit and wet hair, the evening breeze dancing around you and mocking you for getting so lost in the moment that you forgot everything around you.

“I really am,” you sighed, “maybe we could get some blankets and food and start a fire?”

Abby nodded and you struggled to your feet, feeling very naked and small all of a sudden. The blonde noticed your change of behavior and immediately got up next to you. She grabbed your books and towels and wrapped her dry one around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms a few times to warm you up before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

Inside the cabin, Abby managed to light an oil lamp and fill the room with a wonderfully soft, yellow light. She slowly walked toward you and came to a halt right in front of you. Gently, she placed her hands on your shoulders and took the towel, placing it on a chair beside you. Then she hooked a finger under the strap of your swimsuit and slowly pulled it over your shoulder and down your arm, never breaking eye contact. Both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you felt like sirup and the world seemed to stop turning.

You laid a hand on top of Abby’s and moved with her, dragging the strap down your arm to expose a slight tan line and a hard nipple standing out into the cold air. Abby still hadn’t moved her eyes from yours, helping you pull your arm out of the strap and slowly pulling down the other one until your entire chest was bare. You could feel another rush of goosebumps chasing over your entire body while hot blood shot into your face and painted your cheeks in a deep red.

You both took a deep breath simultaneously, then you nodded at the tall woman in front of you. She lowered her eyes to your breasts and let out a shaky breath, then she raised a hand and drew her fingertips over your collarbone, down your ribs, and up between your breasts before brushing over your sensitive nipples and finally using both hands to cup your breasts. She stepped closer and bent her head to kiss you. You melted into her, her hands now all over your body, her hot skin on your cold flesh, and her mouth on yours before attacking your throat, making you throw your head back and let out an ecstatic moan.

Suddenly, Abby’s hands were on your ass and she picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around her waist and held on to her shoulders as she carried you towards the bed, sitting down on it with you in her lap. You buried your fingers in her hair and pulled on it as you ground your hips forward and kissed along her jaw.

In this moment, you felt something shift inside her. She tensed up, but not in a way that felt right in this situation. You let go of her immediately and leaned back to look at her, scared you had done something wrong or she didn’t want this after all.

“Abby, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice sounding strangely loud and panicky in the silent room.

She kept one hand on the small of your back while rubbing the back of her head with the other.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just - fuck…” You could see tears welling up in her eyes as she furrowed her brows and tried to keep it together. “You just reminded me of someone. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. It’s just… you don’t know everything about me yet. Maybe it’s time you did so you can decide if you still want me.”

She averted her eyes and let her hands fall to your thighs. For the second time in minutes, you felt strangely exposed and out of place. You nodded, then you stood up and turned away. It felt like your heart was slowly tearing at the seams and pouring blood into your stomach. Why couldn’t this be easy? What was the secret Abby had kept from you? You couldn’t imagine not wanting her anymore. She was everything you had ever dreamed of, the only person that had ever made you truly happy and it was impossible for you to see a future without her. The thought alone felt like a knife to your stomach.

You quickly pulled a big hooded sweatshirt from your backpack and put it on before taking off the swimsuit and slipping into fresh underwear and linen pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Abby getting dressed as well.

“I’m gonna get some wood from the back and start a fire on the beach,” you declared into the silence and rushed out the door without daring to look at Abby.

You piled up the wood on the sand, added some dried grass and small sticks in the middle and lit them with a match. The breeze had died down and the fire started at the first try. Abby came down from the cabin with two plaid blankets, a water bottle, and a small loaf of bread from your provisions. She spread one of the blankets on the ground and motioned for you to sit down, putting the second one around your shoulders when you had settled.

She sat down next to you and took a few gulps of water before handing the bottle to you. You were thankful for the cool liquid soothing your dry throat after the day in the sun and saltwater.

Abby took a deep breath, then she began.

She told you about her life at Salt Lake, growing up among the Fireflies, about her father, the surgeon, and the search for a vaccine. They had heard there was a girl who was immune and on her way to them, but only a few people believed it, her dad among them. When the day finally came, she had been out training with her boyfriend Owen and upon her arrival at the base, everyone was talking about the girl and the surgery her father was about to perform on her in order to try to develop a vaccine. There was an actual chance of salvation; everyone was enthusiastic.

Then the shooting had happened. Joel, the man who had brought the girl had suddenly changed his mind and abducted the girl straight from the operating table. He had shot everyone in his way. When Abby ran to find her father, it had been too late. Joel had killed him and with him the last chance of making a vaccine. Abby’s world had been destroyed in a matter of minutes.

That day, she had sworn vengeance. She had started training even harder than before and followed every tip she got to find Joel. The Fireflies had crumbled and she and a small group of friends had joined the WLF. Abby had broken up with Owen and everyone but her had given up on vengeance, but one day she had found Joel and his brother Tommy. She had brought them to the cabin where she was staying with her crew and she had killed Joel. An eye for an eye.

What she hadn’t expected was the young woman turning up at the last second to inevitably watch Joel die. They had left her and Tommy there and seen the matter as dealt with.

Then, suddenly, Abby’s friends had been killed one by one. This was at the same time she had met Lev and helped him flee from the Seraphites. In Seattle, she had come face to face with Ellie, the immune girl from way back and the woman who had watched Joel, her father figure, die at the hands of Abby. She had been the one to kill Abby’s crew trying to find her. Abby however had defeated her and Tommy once more and warned them not to come after her again.

Months after, just as they had made first contact with the Catalina Fireflies, Abby and Lev had been captured by the Rattlers and were tortured for weeks. One day, Ellie had turned up there and helped them escape before challenging Abby to one last fight to the death, threatening to kill Lev if Abby wouldn’t do it. They had fought a gruesome battle, both sustaining terrible wounds before Ellie had given up and let Abby and Lev go.

Abby didn’t know where she was now and if she had survived, and she didn’t care. She knew why Ellie had pursued her and she knew Ellie understood her reasons, too. Still, the loss they had suffered at the hands of the other was unbearable. Abby had lost everyone she had ever trusted or shared good memories with to horrific deaths and there would never be justice. She would never get them back and she would never understand why all this had to happen.

By the end of her story, Abby was sobbing. You had wrapped your blanket around the both of you and your hand lay on her thigh, but you didn’t dare to make closer contact. You didn’t know what to think of all this. What a waste. What a terrible, devastating tragedy. How horrible to suffer this much and have no one to blame, nothing to do with all the pain and grief.

Abby wiped her eyes with the corner of the blanket.

“I think, if I hadn’t found Lev, I wouldn’t have made it. I would have let her kill me. What was there to live for after everything that had happened?”

The thought of Abby dying was the final pull that ripped your heart to shreds. You pressed both of your hands to your chest to assure yourself you were okay, panting heavily as you tried to find something to say. There was nothing you could offer that would make this hell better for her. The realization was crushing.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes while Abby tried to calm her breathing and you tried to calm your thoughts. Finally, you broke the silence.

“I’ve loved Lev from the minute I met him and I’m so thankful he’s here.”

What you wanted to say, wanted to scream into the flames, was that you had loved Abby since the second you saw her, that she had your heart, that this was fucking confusing but didn’t change your feelings for her and that you would never give up on trying to be with her.

“That little boy has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. He’s been through so much and he had to grow up in the span of a few months, but when I see him smile or hear him laugh or talk about fucking sustainable agriculture” - she had to laugh through a veil of tears - “I know it was all worth it. Every fight, every day in that godforsaken cell, every bullet. He’s my reason.”

Fuck it. It was better to tell her right now than to suffer the uncertainty any longer.

“Abby, I honestly don’t know what to say. I can’t even begin to perceive the horrors you’ve been through and I’m not going to act like I even remotely understand how you feel. What I do know is this: there is no one to blame in this whole terrible web of tragedy. What matters is that it’s over and that you now have the chance to live a life without constant danger and death and disaster. And I’m going to be at your side every day, no matter how long it takes for you to accept safety and peace and maybe even happiness into your life, even if it takes you forever. I have never felt the way I feel with you, I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this deeply. I understand that you’re far away sometimes and I know there is still a lot of distance between us and you don’t have to reciprocate any of this, but I just want you to know . Know you are loved, know you have a place here, and know I will do everything in my power to help you through this.”

Abby’s eyes had gone wide at your monologue and she seemed completely blindsided by your confession. How had she not seen this coming? Did she seriously think she was just some fling to you? A little summer fun? What was she thinking?

The blonde stared into the fire, contemplating and kneading her fingers.

“Today was the first time I didn’t think of them for several hours. Ever since we arrived, I just tucked it all away in a corner of my mind and decided I could be sad tomorrow because today, with you, I would be happy.”

You held your breath and waited for her to continue, not daring to move or say a word.

“And I really was. Happy, you know? And you’re different, too. Owen was there for me so I was there for him. It just turned out I didn’t care for him as much as he did for me. And that really, really fucking sucks to know now that he’s gone. But I can’t change it. All I know is that I’ve never cared for anyone as much as I care for you. You’re constantly on my mind and I get irritated and impatient when I haven’t seen you for too long, usually meaning only a couple hours, which is a little pathetic if I gotta be honest.”

She looked at you and it felt like she was staring right into your soul. You were frozen, in disbelief at what she was telling you. She held out her hand and you took it, your fingers naturally slipping between hers and closing around her palm. How could two bodies fit each other that perfectly? Abby took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the fire again.

“I still have a long way to go with all this and the next few days are going to absolutely fucking horrible. I have no idea how I’m going to survive that. But with you by my side, I want to try. For you, for Lev, and for all the people I’ve lost. I owe it to them to make the best of the life I still have.”

She lifted your hands to her face and kissed the back of your hand.

“You, Y/N, have stirred something inside me I haven’t felt in years. It feels warm and hopeful and eager to see what the next day brings. And because I know tomorrow will bring a lot of pain, at the moment I just want to see what the next hour brings.”

You let your head fall on her shoulder and she put an arm around you. It had gone completely dark and the fire was slowly dying down, but you were warm and comfortable. The night was singing a bittersweet song for those gone too soon, the trees humming their wonderful tenor as the waves joined in with a whisper, the bats over your heads drumming their fleeting rhythm, and an owl completing the symphony with her wailing cries.

Abby started talking again and telling you stories about her time with the Fireflies while ripping off little pieces of bread for you both. One day, her and Owen had helped her dad free a zebra that had gotten caught in some wire. Her first kiss had been Nora, her closest friend and a brilliant doctor. Leah and Jordan had been the power couple at the WLF, brilliant together but also extremely annoying whenever they started wildly making out at parties or fucking in the bathroom thinking the others wouldn’t hear. Then there was Mel, part of the group but in a difficult triangle with Abby and Owen. She had been pregnant with Owen’s child when Ellie killed her. And Yara, what a wonderful young woman. Lev’s sister had stood by him and defended him when he had gotten in trouble with the Seraphites and she had done everything she could to protect him until the day she died. From that day on, Abby had taken that responsibility.

She also told you about her fear of heights and the trip through the sky with Lev, now laughing as she admitted how bizarre it all seemed looking back. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to finally really get to know her.

When the fire was nothing more than a few smoldering coals, Abby suggested going back to the cabin. You packed up your things and carried them back inside. Abby lit the lamp again while you folded the sandy blankets and put them to the side. Then you locked the door.

As you turned around, you could see Abby standing next to the bed, looking at you. Her features were only lit from the side, golden light flickering over her cheekbones and jaw. Her head was slightly cocked and her hands were restless again, searching for something to hold on to and finding only each other.

“Come here,” she said in a low voice. You felt yourself drawn to her by an invisible string, moving faster with every step until you clashed into her, hands and arms entangling, hot mouths pressed together. She let herself fall back onto the bed and pulled you down with her.

You couldn’t tell if the rushing in your ears was the sea or your own blood, but it didn’t matter. Abby’s calloused hands were exploring your back under the sweatshirt, her thigh was pressed between yours and her heavy breathing joined the harmony in your head.

You paused for a minute, staring down at the beautiful face beneath you, her eyes promising that she was all yours.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” you whispered, then you kissed her again and dragged her down with you into an ocean of pleasure.

-

Author’s note: After receiving amazing feedback from you guys and a demand for more, I’m currently in the process of writing a Part 3 for this! Thank you for your patience 💌 if you’d like, you can support me by buying me a coffee 💛

[bauslut]

ii. what makes a man?

pairing: aaron hotchner x rowan rivers

word count: 3.840k

warnings: canon typical violence -- blood, gore, mentions of murder, discussion of murder, discussion of weapons, cursing, trauma, dealing with trauma, death of children

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“here you are,” jj bore a kind smile as she slid a manila folder towards the brunette, “here’s your official welcome to the bau. i’m sorry it wasn’t on more.. positive terms.”

“oh,.it’s quite all right,” rowan’s eyes widened, “this is what we’re here--”

“she’s sitting in my spot,” rossi chuckled, “but i don’t mind.”

“are you sure?” rowan stammered, a rosy blush painting her cheeks, “i-i can get up and move--”

“don’t sweat it,” rossi nodded curtly, “there are plenty of open seats.”

“hey baby girl,” a wide, jovial, grin painted morgan’s lips as a woman entered the room, her blonde locks intricately woven into an up-do, “don’t you look delicious today?”

“as always,” the woman scrunched her nose, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, “how are you this morning baby-cakes?”

“hey there!” a chirp startled rowan, sounding from her left, “i’m emily, but around here, i’m referred to as prentiss.”

she was met with kind eyes, a warm mocha hue. they were bright, glimmering as they followed every minute movement as rowan studied her features. the woman was gorgeous without a doubt, with full lips and an oblong face. her hair was luscious, parted down the middle, styled into bouncy curls.

“hi,” rowan breathed, sticking out a hand, “i’m rowan riv--”

“i am afraid we do not have time for introductions,” a stern voice echoed through the space, “we are fbi agents, not kindergartners. we can have icebreakers or whatever it is you’re doing on the jet.”

rowan choked back a sharp retort as hotch strode towards a whiteboard, his spine straightened, chest puffed out slightly. sliding into her seat, her hands settled on the armrests, a puff of air exhaling from her lips. she was sandwiched between two seasoned agents, as morgan was munching on a bag of cookies on her left, prentiss sifting through papers to her right.

maybe if she just shut her mouth, she would blend in and he wouldn’t pay any sort of attention to her. which, wasn’t such a bad idea in the moment. the less he focused on her and berated her, the better.

“cookie?” morgan rattled the bag.

“not right now. thank you though,” rowan whispered, lips curving into a small smile.

“i’m about to begin discussing the case,” hotch shot rowan a glare, words barbed with venom, “so listen up.”

he pinned several images on the board, bile rising in rowan’s throat as her focus transitioned to the pictures. prentiss sucked in a shaky breath, while morgan muttered a strand of incoherent sentences.

the images progressively became more grotesque as they spanned across the board. mangled, beaten, and bloodied corpses were presented, the bile approaching the back of her mouth as she realized the age range.

the bodies were children, their jugulars slashed, lacerations and bruises littering their tiny frames.

“there has been a surge of murders in the rural farm town of homer, illinois. in the past week, there have been a total of five. all of the victims were children, with no specific physical attributes,” hotch cleared his throat, “however, all of them bear one aspect in common.”

“they’re all boys,” reid murmured, “from the images it appears as if they’re about ages eleven or twelve.”

“then they are pre-pubescent boys,” rowan’s voice was clear, pairs of eyes falling on her as she spoke, “i’ve seen something like this before, when i was working in columbus. we had a ring of traffickers who preferred this age range.”

“and?” morgan arched a brow, “why pre-pubescent boys?”

“hotch,” rowan nearly trembled as the supervisor’s cold gaze shifted on her, “i-if i may ask, were there any signs of assault or rape?”

“the severity of sexual assault varied on each victim.”

“you said that they have no physical attributes in common but looking at these photos,” reid shook his head slightly, “the brunettes are the only ones who have lacerations covering their entire bodies. the blondes, the only sign of violence demonstrated is the murder itself, the incision along the jugular.”

“could it be that our unsub has something against brunettes?” morgan inquired.

“potentially,” rowan blinked, scanning over the text, “it also says here in the autospies that the only boys who were sexually assaulted were the brunettes. i may be going on a whim here, but i think our unsub is lashing out on the brunettes for a reason. it could be power, dominance, you name it. perhaps the hair color is a stressor, or was the initial stressor. he might be reliving a traumatic event from his childhood.”

rossi whistled, “look at you, rivers. already building a profile and we’ve only met for five minutes.”

“sadly i’ve seen a lot of this before,” rowan let out a sigh, rustling through papers, “it also says here that the bodies were all found at homer lake forest preserve. i have a strong premonition that our unsub is male.”

“and what makes you say that?” hotch countered.

“by the way the bodies were handled,” rowan shrugged, “they were beaten, mutilated, and dragged through the woods. the amount of physical strength to do that is just an inherent trait males have."

“how were the bodies discovered?” jj bit her lip, a trace of fear glimmering in her icy blue depths.

“they were found by a new fisherman every morning around dawn, in the same location. they were located about half a mile from the entrance of the preserve,” hotch tossed the file onto the table, “our unsub is bold.”

“he wanted the bodies to be found,” rossi added, “he’s arrogant.”

“or he’s sloppy,” rowan remarked, “he’s devolving. he could be killing just on that need burning within him, with no remorse or any sort of emotion within him at all--”

“we need to get to homer as soon as possible,” hotch interrupted, glancing at his phone, “it’s ten o’clock in the morning. it’s only a matter of time before another body is found.”

“where’s the closest airport?” jj folded her arms across her chest.

“willard airport in champaign-urbana,” reid piped up, “other than that, the other closest one is in bloomington-normal.”

“and how do you know that?” morgan’s eyes widened.

“champaign-urbana is the home of the university of illinois,” reid swallowed thickly, “i’ve been there a few times. it’s an exceptional school for engineering, truly one of the greatest in the country--”

“all right, all right,” morgan stuck out a hand, “you answered my question.”

“wheels up in thirty,” hotch announced, plucking the file off the shiny wood.

rowan followed the others in suit, filing out of the space. trailing reid, she was the second last to leave the room, hotch right behind her, deep, smooth, voice filling her ears.

“i need to speak with you agent rivers.”

“yes?” she swiveled on her heel, facing the supervisor, folding her arms across her chest.

“i hope you’re aware that i do not tolerate any sort of childlike behavior. we’re not teenagers reuniting on the first day of class. i did not appreciate the interruptions in my conference room. you can socialize on your own time.”

“you’ve never once interrupted anything in your entire life? wow, you really must be mr. perfect. i mean look at you, all put together. i doubt you’ve even done anything wrong in your life you’re so per--”

“you realize you’re speaking to your boss with this tone, right?”

“i don’t fucking care,” tears brimmed rowan’s eyes, “this is my first day and it’s even worse than i could have ever imagined.”

“excuse me?”

“you’ve really made sure i’ve had a warm welcome to the bau, mr. perfect,” rowan scoffed, rolling her eyes, “it’s been an amazing first day, i’ll tell you that.”

for just a moment, hotch’s tough exterior cracked, a flicker of sympathy flashing in his gaze, “i’m sorry.”

“‘i’m sorry’?”

hotch paused, inhaling a deep breath, “i was going to write you up. however, i may have been a little too harsh on you. after all, this is your first day. strauss put in a good word for you, and i want to see your skill set out in the field. come on, we’re going to be left behind.”

******

“gotta love the midwest,” morgan placed his hands on his hips, chest rising and falling.

“you love it?” reid’s lips curled in disgust, “it smells like manure.”

“it smells like home,” rowan giggled, shouldering her way through the men, “c’mon, let’s go.”

“well she’s eager,” rossi chuckled, turning to hotch, “where are we setting up?”

“there’s the local p.d. in homer,” hotch slung his bag over his shoulder, “the station is only about four miles from the forest preserve.”

“i was doing some reading on the village of homer,” reid stated, “there’s only about one thousand people who live there. it’s such a tiny place, and as hotch mentioned, it’s only four miles from the preserve, surely the unsub lives there.”

“or he lives close to the lake,” rowan pointed out, “there are so many homes out there surrounding the lake in the countryside. with these rural communities, your neighbors could be a mile down the road, or miles away. it gives him the perfect opportunity to make frequent trips to the lake without being noticed.”

“you make a good point rivers,” hotch remarked, “we’ll have to keep that in mind when we investigate the lake and the surrounding woods.”

“this murder isn’t going to solve itself,” rossi cleared his throat, nodding his head towards the cluster of suvs, “we need to get to the police department and we’re losing time.”

stepping into the vehicle, rowan slid into the back seats, figuring that hotch would take the wheel, while rossi would sit shotgun. yet, curiosity buzzed in her mind as rossi took the wheel, while reid settled into the passenger seat.

“you’ve got to be shitting me,” she muttered as hotch thrust open the door, “rossi, are you usually the one who drives?”

“typically, no,” in the rearview mirror, rowan snorted when she noticed the shit-eating grin plastered on the agent’s face, “but i figured that you and hotch would love to get to know one another on the way there.”

“can i pick the station?” reid bounced in the seat, hands flying to the knobs and levers.

“pick something good, find an oldies station or something. maybe they’ll play back in black,” within seconds, the suburban was in motion, rossi revving the engine, “i plan on racing morgan, jj, and prentiss to the station. whoever loses has to buy dinner.”

“this is ridiculous,” hotch rolled his eyes, the vibration of his phone piquing rowan’s curiosity.

“by the way,” reid turned in his seat, facing hotch, “who’s been calling you so frequently today?”

“haley,” rowan tilted her head as the name spat from hotch’s mouth, “it’s not important.”

haley. from the sound of it, she was hotch’s significant other, girlfriend, fiancee, even a spouse, maybe. rowan’s eyes drifted downwards to his lap, where his hands rested on his knees. in the light, a golden band gleamed on his left ring finger.

so, hotch was married. he had a wife.

but there was something in his tone that was unsettling. were they fighting? having the typical lover’s quarrel? maybe that’s why hotch was so distant and cruel, he was constantly dealing with his marriage.

“so tell us a little about you, rowan,” rossi was far ahead of the other suburban, shades resting on the bridge of his nose, “i never got an icebreaker.”

rowan scoffed, fidgeting in the leather seat, “there’s not anything too riveting, i can spare you guys the details.”

in the corner of her eye, rowan felt his eyes pierce through her, digging deeps within the confines of her psyche. he was profiling her, desperate to get some sort of read. perhaps he was well aware of how uncomfortable she was by rossi’s query. the way her palms were slick against her pants, sweat prints clinging to the fabric. the way her cheeks were tainted pink, her jaw tightened, throat dry.

“didn’t you go to ohio state for undergrad?” reid licked his thumb, scouring through some novel or book.

“yeah,” she nodded, “i’m from a tiny town in ohio, called tiffin. i went to ohio state for an undergrad in psychology, along with a few minors in criminal justice, linguistics, spanish, so on. i stayed there for grad school since i loved the city, and the university. from there, the bureau picked me up from the academy, and i was thrown into the infamous case.”

“the child sex-trafficking bust,” hotch murmured, “i remember glancing over that in your file.”

“how long did that case go on?” rossi turned the radio dial, lowering the volume.

“longer than it should’ve been,” rowan brought a hand to her temple, a dull pain seeping into her skull, “hey, does anyone have ibuprofen?”

hotch’s eyes softened, concern painting his features, “i think i have some in my briefcase. hang on.”

rowan brought a bottle of water to her lips, sipping as hotch placed a couple of pills in her open palm. as he set them in her hand, skin grazed skin, her heart skipping a beat.

for someone as rough and callused as hotch, his hands were so utterly soft.

“thank you,” she whispered, “i appreciate it.”

“of course,” he murmured, “do you usually get frequent headaches?”

“yeah,” rowan admitted, a new wave of blush spreading, “i’m just prone to them i guess.”

“the humidity is also high today,” reid remarked, “and from the way the wind just picked up, along with the darkness of the clouds, i think it’s going to storm. your headache could be from the low pressure.”

“fantastic,” rowan threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, “you know reid, that’s kinda a myth.”

“actually research has been inconclusive.”

“how many did you take?” hotch nudged rowan, inflections of concern within his inquisition.

“six.”

“jesus christ,” rossi’s lips pursed, “are you trying to kill your liver?”

“we’ll see about that,” a giggle bubbled up in rowan’s throat.

as the suburban sailed down the interstate, her lashes fluttered, sleep threatening to pull her into its clutches. she blinked, rubbing soothing circles onto her temple, lips falling to a frown as a dull pain seeped into her forehead.

biting her lip, she fought back tears, inhaling a shaky breath. this was no place to show any weakness.

not with him around.

*****

“good afternoon, chief sellers. i’m supervisory special agent hotchner with the fbi,” hotch stated, his voice ringing with authority as he shook an officer’s hand, “and these are my colleagues.”

“thank god you’re here,” the officer’s voice was hoarse, wavering as he spoke, “it’s been a living nightmare these past few days.”

“i can only imagine,” jj murmured under her breath, “there’s someone out there killing little boys.”

“he looks so shaken up,” prentiss exhaled, folding her arms across her chest.

“we had most of the state p.d. flock out here once the second body was discovered,” chief sellers cleared his throat, his focus directed on hotch, “we’re all doing the best we can, but of course, as other duties call, we tend to be short-handed at times.”

“we’re going to do everything in our power to help,” rossi’s words were warm, brimmed with sincerity, “we’ll catch this guy, i promise.”

“and we’ll help you all in every way we can,” chief sellers nodded curtly, “anything you folks need, let us know.”

“should we start by heading out to the crime scene?” hotch inquired, “it might also be best to split some of us up.”

“of course,” chief sellers strode over to a pair of state officers, “these men will escort you to the scene. what else do you need?”

hotch’s eyes flickered over to his team, “i want morgan, reid, and rossi to go investigate the scene. prentiss and jj, would you speak with some of the locals? we need to gather as much information as possible in order to rule out anyone or gain essential details about our unsub.”

“what about me?” rowan coughed.

“you’re staying with me here at the station,” he commanded, “and you’re going to answer every phone call we get from garcia.”

“good luck newbie,” rowan rolled her eyes as morgan teased her, his breath hot against her ear.

“you might want to listen to morgan,” rossi shot her a wink, “you’re going to need it.”

“thanks,” the reply was a deadpan, the agent’s shoulders slumping as hotch approached her, “putting me on a short leash, are we?”

“you’re the one who understands the profile of our unsub the best,” he retorted, “and before you fire back with another verbal assault, think before you speak. this is your big girl job now. act like it.”

“don’t you think it’s interesting that the unsub stopped killing?” hotch murmured a few words of gratitude to an officer who handed him a coffee, cocking his head as he took a sip.

“do you think that there’s a reason behind that?”

“possibly,” rowan shrugged, denying the same styrofoam cup, “hey, where’s the closest gas station?”

“about half a mile away,” the officer replied coolly, “would you like a ride? a few of the guys and i are going to pick up pizzas for lunch.”

“i’m okay,” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “thank you, though.’

“you don’t like hot coffee?”

“i prefer iced,” the agent muttered, surveying the empty desks, “i assume they cleared some space for us?”

“indeed,” hotch huffed, “if your phone rings, assume it’s garcia.”

“i feel like i’m at columbus p.d. all over again,” the brunette slid into the seat, rolling a few inches as she plucked the file out of her briefcase.

“well this is nowhere near that,” hotch rolled his eyes, leaning against the wooden surface.

“well it sure feels like it,” his throat tightened as her eyes drifted upwards, locking with his, “it sure fucking feels like it. now, if you don’t mind, i’m going to look over the file.”

“would you like some company, agent rivers?”

“i’m sure you have ‘unit chief’ matters to tend to,” the words were barbed, hot and venomous as she spat them out, “hovering around your new recruit like she’s some child is quite ridiculous don’t you think?”

“i should have you turn in your badge right now.”

“you seem like you’re all bark and no bite. you scolded me only only hours ago about the conference room, threatening to write me up. that tough exterior of yours is only an act. or at least, i think it is. you’re not going to write me up until you have a valid reason to. also, like you claimed earlier, ‘strauss put in a good word for me.’ i know you won’t terminate me. plus, you just went through all of that paperwork to get me here. do you really want to go through all of that again?”

“you piss me off.”

“good,” she puckered her lips, “maybe you should chat about that with strauss hmm? she’d probably just tell you to suck it up and that i’m here to stay.”

hotch’s jaw clenched, prepared to retaliate, yet the vibration in his pocket distracted him momentarily, the shrill ringtone piercing through the air, “yes?”

biting her tongue, rowan glanced back at the file, bringing her hand to her cheek. part of her was wailing, screaming and kicking, fighting the urge to study those horrid images. but the other part was driven, adrenaline coursing through her veins, pumping into her body.

even the slightest detail that she hadn’t noticed initially would be immensely helpful to building the profile, piecing together who this deranged individual was. flipping through the photos, rowan’s eyes narrowed.

although the team held a short briefing before departing from headquarters, there was one minor aspect about the way the bodies were laying in the shrubbery. the boys were all on their backs, dried blood coating sliced flesh. not a single article of clothing framed their bodies, just the thin layer of briefs or boxers.

her heart lurched as one arm was pressed tightly against their sides, while the other was raised. right hands pointed upwards, three fingers: the index, middle, and ring. yet, the pinky connected with the thumb, almost as if the children were purposely holding up three fingers.

“garcia called with an update,” his voice floated into her ears, “with the bits and pieces fed to her from jj and prentiss, we still have a lot of ground to cover. are you up for a drive?”

“wait,” rowan held up a hand, “hotch, were you ever a member of the boy scouts?”

his brow furrowed, confusion settling across his features, “what?”

“just look,” she huffed, gesturing to the images, “look at the way the unsub left their bodies. it’s a clear message, almost like how he dumped the bodies in clear sight. his arrogance blinded him, goading him to taunt us. but little did he know i would see right through his bluff. i think he stopped the killing spree because he knew we’d be looking for him. it’s like he wants us to find him.”

leaning over, hotch’s chest hovered above her shoulder blade, a hand settling on the desk. the ghost of his badge hung over her cheek, a speck of white in her peripheral vision. a hum rose in his throat, “you’re onto something here. let me call garcia.”

“did i make a break in the case?”

“perhaps, but don’t let that get to your head,” the supervisor brought his phone to his ear, “hey, garcia, i need you to run something for me. how many boy scout troops are in champaign county?”

*****

“you up for some drinks tonight?” prentiss giggled, wrapping her jacket around her shoulders, “it’s all on me, especially since we should be celebrating your first case with the bau!”

“i’m fine,but thank you,” rowan beamed, “i still have a forty minute drive ahead of me. i shouldn’t stay out too late.”

“oh come on,” jj groaned, “we won’t be out for long. just a couple rounds.”

“pleaseeee?” garcia practically pranced over to rowan, jutting her bottom lip out, “we don’t know a single thing about you. hotch had you under his watch all day.”

“okay,” she exhaled, “a few drinks, and then i need to get to my apartment. i’ve barely finished unpacking so i’ll have to rummage for my towels and pajamas when i get back.”

“you have an apartment?” prentiss queried, “do you have a roommate or do you live alone? did you bring a boyfriend with you, by chance?”

rowan blinked, “uh, no. i live alone.”

“good thing you’re a fbi agent huh?” garcia winked, “c’mon, we know the perfect bar.”

“maybe we’ll get you loosened up and you can spill some secrets,” jj chuckled, the sound airy and light.

“sometimes,” rowan felt the corner of her lips tug into a wide grin, “sometimes i truly wonder what i’m getting myself into working with all these other profilers.”

*****

{feel free to ask for a tag or let me know what you think! :))}

tagging: @tempus-ut-luceant @daffodin @kleinbluu @inlovewithaaronhotchner @spencerreidsbitch @art-and-thoughts @criminallminds @ethade3

[captainscanadian]

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 4)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Your high school reunion forces you to relive the trauma of your senior year. 

Word Count: 4100+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader

Warnings: HELLA ANGST, Heartbreak, Bullying, Insecurity, Anxiety, Alcohol

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup​‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

Perhaps having a Hollywood stylist on speed dial did have its perks, for the woman who had styled you for your multiple red carpet premieres was more than happy to assist you in deciding what to wear for your high school reunion. 

Natasha Romanoff had advised you that a pair of blue jeans and a comfortable sweater could really go a long way, and you took her word for it. “Did you bring your boots with you?” She asked you as you were on Facetime. 

Rosie had informed you that the dress code was casual, so you need not to worry about having to borrow Nick’s truck in order to drive all the way to Indianapolis and hunt down a designer dress. 

But that did not mean you were keeping it simple with your outfit for the night; you wanted to make an impression, and maybe even rub it in a few of the faces that you were going to be coming across. This was your moment now. 

“You mean my black thigh-highs?” You asked her as your lips curled into a smirk, and you reached down to grab them and held them up for the camera. “Did you really think I’d leave them behind in LA when you said that I fucking sass walk when I’m wearing these?”

“That’s my girl!” She exclaimed, looking proud as ever. “Add a leather jacket over that and you’re good to go. Keep the hair and make up simple. You’re going to be getting shit-faced anyways. No need to look too pretty.” 

You gave her a nod as you chuckled softly. “You cool with me adding a Gucci belt with that? I’d like to show these fuckers that I can actually afford one.”

“Fuck, yes!” She gave you a thumbs up. “You’re going to sass walk in there, look like a million bucks and you’re going to fucking own it, you hear me?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You were certainly glad that you had a stylist who was also the best hype woman you could have ever asked for. “I’m going to fucking own it.” 

“So, now that it’s your ten year reunion… are you and Mr. Hollywood Reporter finally going to get it on?” Natasha asked as she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know I’m totally assuming that he’s going to be there, but you did go to high school together. Maybe revisiting some old memories can light some kind of spark between the two of you? He seems like a good catch, Y/N.” 

“What?” You shook your head. “No… I mean, yes. He’s going to be there. But no, we’re not ‘getting it on’ or however else you say it.” 

“Why not?!”

“Because…” You let out a sigh. “Pietro is my friend.” 

Falling in love with one of your best friends had been hard enough. You could not afford to lose another friendship the same way. 

Out of all places that your ten year reunion could have taken place, it had to be at The Country Club of Indianapolis; you did not know if you should praise Rosie Bender for securing such a venue for the event, or curse her for somehow convincing you to come here. Not that you had ever been to that country club when you had been a resident of Indiana, but it was safe to say that the place did bring back some horrible memories. 

The words ‘Connie Chapman would be there’ made so much more sense to you now, as you were well aware that the country club was owned by her father. Boy, you could never come to terms with how much you loathed Connie as a kid. Her mere existence drove you up the wall. 

Ever since you were in elementary school, it seemed as though the two of were forced to compete with each other. From the good grades to the friendships you made; she had everything you wanted. She had a father who had raised her like a fucking princess, while yours had walked out when you were just a toddler. Her birthday parties would always take place at her family’s mansion in Shelbyville, and sometimes at the country club too. You were never invited to any one of them though, not that you ever wanted to. 

She was the teacher’s pet, which was most likely a result of her father’s rather heavy donation to the school. No matter how hard you studied, grinding through every assignment by pouring your blood, sweat and tears into them, she just happened to get a better grade than you did. It was frustrating to know that no matter how hard you tried, she just happened to be five steps ahead of you. She was oozing with privilege, and that made you feel quite bitter. 

During high school, she was the captain of the cheer leading team. While she was not the nicest person you’d known back then, it did not matter at all when she looked like some Victoria’s Secret model - when Victoria’s Secret was still relevant. It seemed as though she had somehow skipped the awkward stages of puberty and became attractive without ever paying the price for it; or maybe she did pay a price. You could never tell for sure. Every boy in school would fall at her feet, which was something that certainly boosted that ego of hers. She was the most popular girl in school, and you were a complete nobody. It fucking sucked. 

Despite the fact that Connie Chapman had everything you would have wanted in life when you were a teenager, you knew that you had something that she could never have, something that you believed that no one could ever pry out of your hands. Oh how stupid had you been. She had taken him right from your cold dead hands. 

As much as you hated to admit it, this was not how you had expected your senior year of high school to be. It seemed as though everything was going to shit this year, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of this shit show that was high school. 

The year had gotten off to a not-so-great start with your best friend ditching you to hang out with his new friends from the basketball team. While you had found yourself strolling through the hallways of Shelbyville Senior High School all alone during the lunch hours, your vice principal had forced you to befriend the two new students, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. 

Sure, they were both wonderful to hang out with. But deep down, you just missed Bucky Barnes more than ever. He was your best friend, had been for as long as you could remember. You had no idea why he had stopped hanging out with you since the end of junior year, and you hadn’t even bothered to ask. Things just seemed to be out of your control nowadays, you guessed. 

“Y/N!” Wanda had called out to you as she was rushing towards your locker, a panicked expression evident in her eyes as she grabbed your arm rather roughly. “Y/N, you’re not going to believe what just happened.” 

You set the algebra textbook that you had been holding in your locker before turning towards her, grabbing your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder. “Wanda, is everything okay?”

“Bucky knows.” She told you, looking at you with wide eyes as she breathed heavily. “He came over to my lab desk during biology and… he told me that he knows.” 

Her words had hit you like a freight train, as you found yourself closing your locker in a hurry when you began to feel your heart beating against your chest. “W-What?” You shook your head. “No, no, no… No, Wanda… no! How could that be? How would he know?”

“He said that he… he knows that you like him, Y/N. He sees the look in your eyes when you speak to him.” She replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe you haven’t been all that subtle with him as you thought you were?” 

“Oh shit…” 

You did not know what to do, for you had not expected for things to get out of control like they had now. You had not intended for Bucky to find out about how you felt about him, not when he had drifted away from you just months ago. 

A part of you could not help but wonder if the reason why he had stopped hanging out with you was because of this revelation. Was he distancing himself because of how you felt about him? Was it because he did not feel the same way? Why had he told Wanda that he knew about it instead of coming straight to you? 

So many questions had flooded your mind at that moment, and you could not think straight. It felt as though the whole world was closing in on you, and all you wanted at that moment was to be held in someone’s arms and be told that you were loved. It was a simple wish. To feel loved and to feel like you belonged somewhere was a basic need for a human being. It was not meant to be a luxury, though that was exactly what it seemed to be nowadays. 

Your mind was telling you to run, but your feet were planted firmly against the tiled floor of the corridor. While you wondered how you were going to face him, you had felt it in your heart to trust him. He was your best friend; he wasn’t going to hurt you. 

All it took was that simple trust. That was all it took to break you. 

As you got out of the Porsche that you had rented for the remainder of your stay, you noticed a few familiar faces staring out at you in utter surprise. For starters, the car was bound to stir up some attention. But it was your outfit that was to die for. 

Just as Natasha Romanoff had suggested, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt really did go a long way… along with a few other designer accessories that were worn for the sole purpose of making jaws drop. It was mission accomplished. 

Not that you minded being the centre of attention this time, but the thought that the people who had once spoken about you behind your back were now gawking at you with utter jealousy sure boosted that ego of yours. You had certainly earned that luxury. Perhaps coming to this reunion was not a bad thing after all. 

“Well, well, well…” Pietro Maximoff was quick to rise from his seat as you approached the table, greeting you with a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t you look like you fucking own this place.” 

“As ironic as that seems.” Wanda snorted, considering who actually did own the place. “Who would have known that Y/N Y/L/N still had it in her to cause a scene?” 

You rolled your eyes at her words, returning a kiss on her brother’s cheek. “It may have been ten years, but some things never change.” You noted, motioning towards the formerly popular crowd who were now staring at you like they had never seen a successful New York Times best-selling author in their midst. “They always fucking stare.” 

“Y/N, you made it!” The familiar voice of Rosie Bender caused you to turn around to greet her. “I’m so glad you came.” 

“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” You smiled at her before you noticed the woman who stood behind her. 

Connie Chapman. 

“I love you, Bucky.” Those three words had come out of your mouth so naturally, that you did not even beat yourself up for having just confessed your love to him. “I’ve loved you for as I’ve known you.” 

A part of you had expected him to say it back in an instant, but you knew better than that. His actions during the last few months had been very clear. But the look on his face was not one of surprise, nor did he show any sign of reciprocation. He had just stood there in silence, biting down on his bottom lip for a moment too long before he nodded. “I knew that.” 

“I knew that… you knew that.” You breathed. “Wanda told me that you told her… that you knew…” Your eyes glazed over with every second, for a part of you had worried that he was indeed going to reject you. You knew that you were in for a heartbreak, but you could not handle it either way. 

“The thing is… Y/N... I like someone else, doll.” 

And... there it was. 

“Connie Chapman.” You laughed softly as you looked over at her. “I can’t believe it.” God, the years had been so unkind to her. 

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N.” 

“You too.” You lied straight through your teeth, causing Wanda to snort her drink and choke back her laughter. 

Pietro and Rosie looked rather amused by this whole interaction, but you had just shrugged it off when your eyes landed on the man who had just walked in. Dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, and a bright yellow leather jacket that seemed to match your black one, you could not deny that he knew how to make an entrance. 

The moment he entered the room, Bucky Barnes’ eyes landed right on you. Of course, you were the centre of attention; you should have always been the centre of attention. The way you were dressed in your jeans and your top, not to mention those boots; he could not deny how stunning you looked that night. 

Not that he had the courage to tell you that you looked absolutely beautiful, but he knew that he was probably the last person you wanted to hear those words from… for obvious reasons. He had screwed things up when he had the chance, so what even was the point anymore. 

“Hey Y/N, did you hear?! Bucky asked Connie to prom!” Brock Rumlow hollered at you in the hallway as you walked past him, causing you to break into tears at the remainder as his minions continued to laugh in your face. 

It had been two whole days since you had found out that Connie was the one who Bucky had feelings for. As much as it hurt to find out that you had lost the one thing that you had cherished the most in your life to her of all people, it hurt a lot more that you hadn’t found out from Bucky himself that she was the girl he liked. 

Instead, the news of Bucky’s elaborate promposal had spread around the school like wildfire, and Pietro had rushed to inform you after witnessing the gesture that had become the talk of the school. While Connie hadn’t even said yes to him, the fact that he had even asked her to prom was reason enough for people to start picking on you. And in a matter of days, you had become the joke of the school. 

But what broke your heart the most was not that Bucky had not reciprocated your feelings for him, nor that he did not have the decency to tell you that Connie Chapman was the girl of his dreams. It was the fact that Bucky had been your best friend since you were in elementary school, and he knew damn well how you felt about Connie. The rivalry that you both shared had not been a secret and Bucky had always known that. Even when he did not love you back, you had expected him to be loyal; and he had done the one thing that he probably knew was bound to cause you the worst pain. 

Wanda was quick to wrap her arm around your shoulder and drag you away from Brock and his minions, sensing that you were on the verge of yet another breakdown. Ever since things had taken a turn for the worst, she had been trying her best to keep you calm. She knew that you were a sensitive soul, which was all the more reason for her to want to protect you from your bullies. 

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t let them get to you.” 

You should your head as you hugged her tight, sobbing softly against her shoulder. “It’s not them, Wanda. It’s not… It’s him. I loved him, Wanda. I loved him so much and he… what is it about her that made him feel that way? What is it about her that made him… fall for her? What is it that she has that I don’t? Because I thought that he was mine, and now he’s not.” 

You had to blame your own insecurities for weighing you down like this. After all, you had always envied what Connie Chapman had; and now she had Bucky’s heart too. That was the worst. But deep down, you kept asking yourself over and over again. What was it about her that made him fall for her? What was it that she had that you didn’t? 

After a while, you had realized that you could never figure out the answer to those questions. But you wanted the answers, and you wanted them from him. You had been young, stupid, and hormonal. You had been so entitled to Bucky’s heart that you had been willing to fight him for it. 

Perhaps going up to him and asking him, ‘can’t you see how much I love you,’ wasn’t the way to go. Because you did love him so much. How could he not see that? 

The fact that she had rejected him to his face, and he was still pining over her while all you had for him was true love. You wanted to ask him why he was doing this? Why do you love someone who doesn’t love you back? Why do you humiliate yourself by pining over someone who could care any less about you?

Oh what a hypocrite you were… 

“Seriously, what the fuck is it that she has that I don’t?!”

Everything, you should have known that by then. 

“Can’t you see?! Just look at her! SHE’S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!” 

And that was it. That was all it took for Bucky Barnes to break your heart at once. 

“So, I’m... am I not beautiful?! Is that what you’re saying to me?!” 

The whole school had been witness to your screaming match that ended up to be the final tug at your heartstrings. 

As you broke down in tears, Wanda Maximoff had dragged you away from him for the last time. 

Pietro had glared daggers at him before he followed behind you, his arms wrapped tightly around you to shield you from the nosy crowd that had gathered in the cafeteria. 

And that was the last time you had ever dared to look Bucky Barnes in the eyes. 

You had barely made it through the first course of the meal when you had lost your appetite. Being at this reunion had certainly stirred up your memories and made you relive the trauma that you had been through in senior year. 

You were quick to drop your fork and clutch onto Pietro’s wrist, every breath you took feeling colder than the last as you fought the urge to break down once again, just as you had done ten years ago. 

“Piet.” 

He turned over to look at you in worry, for he was well aware of how uncomfortable it must have been for you to be surrounded by the people and the memories of your senior year. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, the concern so clear in his voice. 

You shook your head, grabbing your glass of wine and chugging it down in one go. But no amount of alcohol could ever let you live down that dreadful day. “Take me home.” 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Wanda frowned, seeing that you looked quite distressed. 

You looked up at her and shook your head. “I shouldn’t have come here.” You admitted, cursing yourself for thinking that being here could be so much as a means of finding writing inspiration. “I can’t do it.” 

Pietro let out a sigh as he nodded understandingly, setting down his fork before wiping off his mouth with his napkin. “How about we head to The Tavern and get shit-faced? Every minute I spend in this place makes me want to throw up, and I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling.”

His sister could not help but nod in agreement. “Honestly, I only came back home because Harry asked me to check in on you. This whole reunion business never interested me.” 

“And I came because there’s no way in hell I would let the two of you deal with these people on your own.” He admitted, chuckling softly 

“I love you both so fucking much.” You smiled over at the two of them before resting your head against Pietro’s shoulder. “What would I have done without the two of you?” 

“Oh you would have been so miserable that senior year.” Wanda joked. 

From the corner of his eyes, Bucky was able to see how close you and Pietro had been seated. To say that a part of him was feeling a strong sense of jealousy would be an understatement. 

Deep down he knew that it should have been him sitting next to you during your high school reunion, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while you laughed about the memories that were meant to be happy ones. 

But instead he had ruined it all by doing what he had done, and now he was forced to watch you from afar with Pietro Maximoff in the place of your best friend. 

Bucky never had anything against Pietro, not back then and certainly not now. Back when the Maximoff twins were just the new kids on the block, he could have cared less about them. 

He and Brock were tight then, so he hadn’t bothered befriending the oldest Maximoff. He had seen you and Wanda hanging around at lunch, but he never would have thought that you had become close friends. That place had always been reserved for him, and you never opened up to anyone else. 

Even when he had distanced himself from you, he had felt possessive over you. But now he knew that it was his actions and the twins’ kindness to let you lean on them at that time that led to him sitting at this reunion in jealousy, while the three of you dined together. 

“You know, it’s not that polite to stare.” Rosie Bender remarked cheekily as she nudged her girlfriend’s brother. “And it seems to me that you haven’t even bothered to take your eyes off of her ever since you got here.” 

“She looks beautiful.” He noted, finally turning over to look over at his friend. “So… radiant. She could always light up the room she walks into.” 

“Oh please, you’re the guy who told her otherwise.” She snickered. 

Bucky could not help but roll his eyes at the reminder. “You know it should have been me sitting next to her like that, not him.” 

“It could have been you, sure. But you managed to ruin that for yourself, didn’t you?” 

“Do you think she would ever forgive me for what I did, Bender?” He asked, a little unsure himself. “Would she ever love me the same way?” 

“How would I know?” She shrugged. “Truth be told, I hope she won’t. No offence, but… as someone who watched all of your drama for the sidelines, I’ve always felt that she deserves better than the guy who took her for granted and treated her like shit.” 

“I never realized how much you hate the idea of seeing us together.” He raised his eyebrow at her. 

Rosie was quick to shake her head at his assumption. “That’s not true.” She admitted, sighing. “You know, when I sold you those prom tickets, I seriously thought that you were buying them for her. All of us in the Prom Committee, we all knew that she had a thing for you. We were rooting for the two of you to finally get together and ride off into the sunset.” 

Not that she would ever admit it to Bucky, but she had always regretted the part she had to play in your fallout. Even though she hadn’t intended for things to escalate the way they had, she often wondered if things would have been different if she hadn’t sold Bucky those prom tickets. But she knew that if she hadn’t done that, then someone else would have. In the end, it was Bucky’s fault that he had ruined things with you. 

“Wow, I guess I was an idiot.” 

“That you are.” She agreed, laughing softly before shaking her head. “Bucky, I know that she’s much better off without you. She’s built herself a whole life after she left town and she doesn’t need you in her life anymore. But I’ve had to watch you be miserable ever since she left.” 

He wasn’t even going to deny that, for even he knew that losing you had been the worst thing that had happened to him. Not even being rejected by Connie Chapman could ever compare to the pain that he had caused himself. “Rosie, I...”

“Admit it, you’ve always felt like something was missing in your life, and it’s her. She may not need you, but you need her.You fucked up, and I know that you’ve realized your mistakes now. You could either keep sitting here and look stupid, or you could finally do things right. It’s your call, Barnes.” 

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Finding the freedom' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Finding the freedom"

"You're not trying to hold on for yourself but for her, Yirina....keep living and fight for her !"

Chapter Summary : Thanks to Sonya Kuzmin, Yirina & Park has managed to escape the place they were prisoner by the Perseus Collective but Yirina was wounded during the escape and she passed out soon after the duo arrived back at the CIA safehouse....and in fact, her chance for her freedom was only now....

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3200

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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We did it....me....Park, thanks to Sonya's help....we succeeded into escaping the base that Perseus were using for their operations in Verdansk, giving us an chance to return back to the CIA safehouse we didn't see for almost 2 weeks but....I was unfortunately wounded during the escape...an bullet right into the left shoulder at an few centimeters from my heart that was shot by Freya herself to avoid me to get away. She wanted to keep me and I was going to die because of her, I was dying on the road and when I passed out in that safehouse, I was maybe thinking that I was done, that she killed me....

"Quick, we need support here !"

"We've got an wounded here, help !"

When I opened my eyes, knowing that I was still unconscious, I found myself back into the old safehouse in West-Berlin, dressed in the same clothes....with the same bullet wound at my shoulder despite not feeling it at all and the blood on the white shirt, appearing like out of nowhere in the middle of the main room near Adler's desk, still alone in that empty place, feeling it was an purgatory....mine.

At first, I started to wander around the place but in fact, I was awaiting for someone to come and it could have been Bell, Lazar, Park, anyone....anyone I could make an talk in my head to pass the time until my heart stopped or until they managed to save me out of here, this safehouse now like an waiting room, me as an patient waiting that death is coming to claim them, walking around to take an look at everything, to see how it was 3 years ago.

This was the only I could have done....waiting. I was passing through our old desks, seeing all the paperwork we did, all the files that we have decrypted, that I have decrypted, the numerous pictures inside the Dark Room, hanging around to dry up on the multiple links and seeing the dashboard, still full of intels we gathered : East-Berlin, Ukraine, Moscow and that was it but mainly, I was just waiting.

"She needs to be immediately healed, we can't lose her !"

"I know that, Sims, we don't want that to happen !"

"No one is wanting this, Woods, no fucking one !"

I was continuing to wait, longer, longer.....seems that time in my head and outside in the real world was working differently but it was seeming so long to wait. I couldn't continue to walk all over the safehouse, deciding to sit on the chair near Adler's old desk, my eyes drifting to look at every papers on it but this time, it wasn't no more about the mission, about Perseus but about me, files that were describing the brainwashing that happened to me, half of the papers looking burned.

It was surely representing the fact that the CIA tried to erase me from their records after Solovetsky but I was still here, just to suffer in my head, awaiting for my death or my recovery. I was just trying to hold on but nothing was helping me, sitting on this chair and holding in my hands Adler's sunglasses, not knowing how to feel to have them in my hands....in real life, back in that pocket.

"What are you awaiting for, Yirina ?" I didn't jump scared from hearing that voice in the room that broke the silence, recognizing my own voice....Bell...sounding normal.

"Either my death...." I started in an low voice, not looking around me to see where she was, my head down and my eyes on these sunglasses. "...or my freedom back into the living world." I finished, putting the sunglasses on the desk.

"Are you trying to say that you're losing hope ?" Bell demanded, using an tone that was looking between 2 things without exactly knowing what he could be. "Don't tell me that you lost hope !" She repeated, arriving in front of me on the other side of the desk and I raised my shoulders to her. "What does that mean ?"

"I don't know." I replied, troubled by everything around me. "What can I do now, Bell ?" I asked rhetorically, given the situation I was now. "I'm surely dying in the hands of everyone on the medical table in the middle of the USSR." I said, passing my right hand above my wound.

"And it's not because of it you have to...

"To lose hope ?" I cut her in an gentle way, starting to think that I was kinda accepting my fate right now. "You ain't the one to get shot."

"She didn't want to shot you, I think that it was only an warning shot." She proclaimed but that wasn't possible.

"If it was the case, she would have shot in the air." I stated, putting 2 of my fingers on the wound, trying to see if it was still bleeding.

"Sonya avoided her to maybe kill you but...." She then stopped her to grab an chair at another desk before coming back, having took Sims's old one to sit near me backwards. "Damnit, you can't be like that." She exclaimed, sitting on the chair.

"Yes but I'm lost, you know ?" I said, finally finding the courage to look at her, myself, in the eyes. "I want to live but all of this trauma I've been facing since I woke up, I don't know." I added, removing my hand off my wound, my two fingers with some blood on it. "More I look at myself, more I want to say that I'm better but each day, there's something that told me that how my old life was either good or shitty."

"Yirina, I'm just something that the CIA created, an piece of your life but....shit, I don't know." She expressed, sounding very painful to talk about this and seeing me like this, she was seeing herself because we're the same person. "I did existed for like what ? 3 weeks for real ? Maybe an month ?"

"I can't remember that well." I told her, having only relived an small part of the events of 1981 in my head. "That's my life in one sentence you just said : I can't remember an goddamn thing." I claimed, basically having resumed myself to that sentence.

"And each day, you're trying to find more about who we were." Bell told me, crossing her arms on the back of the chair, her head on them. "And you know well that you're not alone in this, you got Park, Zasha, Portnova and more." She continued as I was feeling tears in my eyes at hearing these names.

"Stop." I pleaded in an low voice to her.

"Stopping what ?" She asked me, worried and troubled on her face.

"Just...don't say those names, please." I snorted, passing my right hand below my eyes to clean up the tears, starting to cry for good. "It's making me sad." I cried, looking away from her in shame.

"No, it's not for making you sad and hopeless." Bell explained, hearing her getting up from her chair to get in my eyes sight. "Yirina, look at me." She ordered as I moved away my head again when she kneeled at where I was looking.

"No." I whispered.

"Yirina, look....at....me !" She ordered again, sounding also sad as me and pleading to make me look at her before I resigned myself. "Those names, you can't forget them." She alleged, putting her hands on my face to make sure that I would not look away. "They're loyal to you because they know how much you will do for them."

"Maybe." I muttered, taking an breath as the tears were still falling on my pale cheeks.

"Not maybe but entirely !" Bell corrected me, her hands going on top of mine on my lap. "You don't realize that if you die, they would never be able to get over it." She told me in an clear voice, slowly starting to think that death isn't an option.

"She's starting to lose more blood, Woods !"

"I fucking saw it, damnit !"

"Come on, Grigoriev, don't let us down !"

"I know that they're warriors, the best people I met." I admitted, smiling about thinking of Park, Zed, Portnova....all of my friends....

"Yes but...they're worried, they need to be protected." Bell proclaimed, getting her hands off me before sitting on Adler's desk, removing some burned-looking papers along the way. "And they need you !" She affirmed, pointing at me.

"Why it has to be me, Bell ?" I spoke up, deciding to go up from my seat and getting behind it, putting my hands on the back of it. "I know that I need them but..."

"Yes, you need them." She cut me out, avoiding me to speak further. "We both know how much you need to have them near you." She added, knowing the true of her words. "Each time Park isn't here near you, you're getting crazy."

"You're right." I whispered.

"Of course, I'm fucking right, Yirina." Bell raised her voice against me, feeling myself not in control of my own mind. "Right now, I'm trying to make sure that YOU...live on !"  She poked at me at my right shoulder where the blood weren't present, my head looking down at the chair, tears still on my face.

"Stop, don't be angry." I ordered in an low voice.

"I'm not angry but I'm trying to make sure that you understand." She exclaimed, using the same tone as before that was anger without been one actually.

"So, please, don't use that tone." I sniffed away, looking at Park's old desk and....I could see her at her seat, working with an headset. "Park." I started to walk in her direction but I was realizing that it was just an simple vision that couldn't speak or see me before he sadly fade away, like particles into thin air. "No..." I snorted before I fall on my knees, getting slowly weak and feeling that wound getting real to me.

"You can't accept your fate and die, you have to continue to fight for you, for Park and for your friends." Bell stepped in, getting in front of me and still up, offering her left gloveless hand. "Come on, take my hand." She suggested before I took it in mine, helping me to get up but the pain in my shoulder was still here.

"You know better than me, how ?" I questioned her as she was going back slowly towards Adler's desk but she wasn't responding directly, causing me to follow her, holding my left shoulder with my right hand.

"Because I'm your conscience, remember ?" She said, peaking her head towards before leaning back on the desk. "I'm making you do the right choices and to make you live."

"Right now, it's mostly surviving that I want to do." I quoted, walking to join Bell on the desk as she was looking deeply at the dashboard, precisely at the younger Perseus picture and next to me, there were Adler's sunglasses that I decided to take back in my hands. "I've got an bullet in me and I'm trying to hold on." I proclaimed, finding that I needed to live, not die but was I the one that could decide it ?

"Blood pressure is doing better but not good enough !"

"I'm just trying to remove that damn bullet of her, stop stressing me, Song !"

"Come on, we're going to do this and she's going to live !"

"That's good." Bell smiled at me before she was looking back at the same picture her eyes was now focused as me, I decided to....put on the sunglasses despite not loving it.

"Looking at this picture for this long is not going to help you with those files." I spoke, mimicking Adler but keeping my normal voice before I removed the glasses in shame of what I just did.

"See that you didn't lost your sense of humor." Bell scoffed, thinking that it was good for me to joke in the middle of the situation I'm facing. I'm dying but I'm joking... "It proves that you don't want to go." She stated, going up from the desk.

"By joking ?" She nodded at me, walking in front of the dashboard and facing me.

"It appease you, it's nice." She grinned at me as I was trying to reciprocate the move until I managed to do it for good, bringing an smile on my face.

"I just want to hold on." I told her, keeping the smile on me, sounding happy.

"That's all I wanted to hear, Yirina." She confided about the situation before I start to see her fading away in thin air like that vision of Park, starting by her legs. "You know that I'm still here."  She proclaimed before she was finally out of my sight, having disappeared in front of me, feeling saddened by that as I was now back alone in here.

"We're losing her, for fuck sake !"

"Park will kill everyone here if we lose her, understand ?"

"Okay, move for the defibrilator....clear !"

I didn't want to die anymore but I was still here in that safehouse, awaiting for me to recover back in the real world. Time were passing, minutes and it was getting long, prompting me to start to remake an walk inside the safehouse but now, each time I was walking near an desk, there were no more thing on them : no more files, no more personals effects....nothing...nothing...

The Dark Room was now sealed off, impossible to get inside like if the safehouse changed during my talk with Bell, feeling that it was like the last time I stepped in that place for real almost 2 months ago, the CIA having packed up everything to close the place down after it was raided by Stitch. This was maybe meaning that my time in that place in my head was coming at its end but I'm still here.

I did like....3 tours around but now, with nothing on the desks, nothing on the dashboard anymore, nothing to make me pass the time, I was now forced to await, going back to lean on Adler's desk, an blank stare towards the empty dashboard, the sunglasses still next to me until I remembered that I've got something else with me too : my mother's ring that Freya gave me back hours before my escape.

I took it out of the pocket it was along with the sunglasses, taking an better & closer look on it, seeing that it didn't change in three years...an simple ring with an diamond on it, it was maybe simple but it was meaning an lot for me, rekindling with an direct object of my past, something that belonged to my mother. My life was maybe going back together and this ring....it was showing it....

"Nice ring, Yirina." I heard footsteps coming towards me from behind and I smiled, just by recognizing the voice that just talked.

"Thanks, Laz'" I said, turning around to see him, dressed in the 'Burger Town' shirt he was always wearing in the first days 3 years ago when Bell was meeting everyone.

"See that Bell managed to make you live." He stated with an laugh, apparently knowing of the situation....we're in my head....."It's good that you're not giving up."

"I made an lot of promises." I whispered, still looking at the ring before putting it on my ring finger at my right hand. "You asked me to take care of Park, I will."

"I know and it's really good." He told me, walking to get next to me but avoiding to lean against Adler's desk.

"I....you had an diary before ?" I asked him as his presence was making me think about that fact : how the Perseus Collective managed to get their hands on his book ?

"Guy can't have any secret, these days." He replied with an grin, an bit enthusiatic. "You want to know what I write on it ?" He demanded obviously and I nodded but he shake his head. "I'm sorry but.....I'm only in your head."

"Yeah...I....fuck." I cursed, realizing that this Lazar was something that was in my head and he couldn't have all the answers I needed. "I always forgot that."

"Don't need to blame yourself." He expressed his gratitute, making an tap on my right shoulder as the pain of my wound was now gone again for good. "It's normal to feel these sort of things : I know that it's painful for an lot to not see me alive." He added, sadly removing the smile on my face to think about that day.

"No, don't talk about it." I demanded in an sad voice, looking at him clear and he nodded, knowing that the subject can't be talked now, not this close.

"To change the subject...." He started after an few seconds of silence, crossing his arms and still standing up. "I was thinking about that ring."

"What do you want to talk about it ?" I asked curious and showcasing it fully.

"An suggestion." He responded, smiling at me before looking at the direction of Park's old office. "What if you....asked for her hand ?"

"I....uhm....it is...."

"Yes, it's an good idea !" He guessed my words as I was in loss for it, putting his hand back on my shoulder. "You know that it's an chance for you to have an normal life, to have children and to live peacefully."  He exclaimed, wanting to make me believe more about an future where I could live normally.

"If it's an chance..." I whispered, seeing the ring at my finger. "I need to think about it." I confessed, needing an lot of reflection about that subject and with what happened, it will take time until I can talk about this to her..

"I know you will take an good choice." Lazar reassured me before like Bell, he slowly started to vanish into thin air but it was also the surroundings of the safehouse. "You will." He spoke up before him & the old safehouse disappeared, leaving into an black void.

I was now back alone into that strange place, with only Adler's sunglasses in my left hand & my mother's ring back into my right hand. The past....& the future. My burn mark & his sunglasses at my left, the ring and an intact hand meaning the future at my right but I couldn't let go the past because I still need an lot of answers for myself. I was still now awaiting for the moment I will open my eyes back into the real world.

"We need another charge of defibrilator, now !"

"I'm taking it....clear !"

My thoughts were mostly positive when I start to fall on my knees, exhausted by everything including my wound before I fall on my back, looking up at the endless void, an smile on my face as I was finally finding the freedom I needed after that escape from Perseus base, trying to see myself in the future, maybe married....having childrens but now I need to relax and close my eyes, the smile still present on my face when they closed....

This is how I'm feeling my freedom....I want to feel it !

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Cast your mutuals but it’s only Lottie because it’s her birthday 🥳🎂

I just want to say that I see you, I hear you, and I’ll deliver (even tho I’m lazy and I could never do this if it wasn’t for you)

Cast your mutual ( @imdreamingwiththestars ) as...

Marvel Man — Ant Man, Scott Lang

Wait before you get mad hear me out! SCOTT LANG IS THE SEXIEST AVENGER! First off he’s fucking hilarious without even trying. Like HILARIOUS. Everything he says has me in stitches. Second, he’s a great fucking father— literally the best fucking father. Kinda like how you’re always telling me to drink water and to go to bed. Third, he’s adaptable! He can switch between superhero, commendable dad, friend, awkward, sexy— this man is everything and you are everything. Fourth, he’s a dork. And you can’t get mad at me for that because it’s not a jab— it’s the reason we’re friends. The scene in Ant Man and the wasp where he’s doing a thousand things while bored at home just screams Lottie and the way one moment you’re sending pictures of the bracelet you made and then the next your doing something entirely different. Finally he’s sexy— he’s hot as fuck and anyone who doesn’t think Paul Rudd— America’s true golden boy— is sexy then I don’t want to know you. He’s sexy not only because he’s just plain sexy with no substance (which he’s not and neither are you) but because of all the things I said before saying that he’s hot. This fucking DILF makes me want to be a MILF.

Marvel Woman — Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff

Chaos Queen bisexual witch with nerd boyfriend— sounds about right to me! No— you don’t have nerd boyfriend but he’s out there (and maybe his name is SCOTT LANG). She loves fiercely when it comes to family and feels like she’s dying when those she loves are hurt. Family relationships get rocky at times but would do absolutely anything for her found family. She has meltdowns that rock entire towns and then, in the next second, is fine. Maladaptive daydreamer who creates the realities she would rather be in and adds the extra creative flare that the rest of the people around her are missing. That town was suffering before she showed up and gave it the ol’ razzle dazzle. Like please, take over my mind anyday. Deals with my Agatha Harkness level drama with grace. Like oh shit I kidnap you and force you to relive trauma and you don’t kill me? Wow a queen. 100/10 would bang and, yes, that needed to be added because it’s an important attribute. Also when I picture Lottie’s marvel costuming I see red and I see corsets and that’s enough for me 😌

TVD Man — Kai Parker

No, you aren’t a sociopath but neither was Kai Parker!! He was a kid who’s family fucked him over in every way because he was different and then— when he lashed out after years of straight abuse— got locked up. He’s not crazy— he’s hurt and no one’s fucking listening. He’s made mistakes but everyone would rather say shit about him instead of looking at their own lives. At the end of the day no one was better than Kai Parker despite how much they would like to think they are. He appreciates the little things— snowflakes and good food and sharp knives. He’s charming and has a voice that makes me melt— I can picture him going for walks and sending me videos about his coffee and what he bought at target. He needs a hug and a vacation and an I’m sorry.

TVD Woman — Bonnie Bennet

Is it telling that I picked another witch? Possibly. Am I gonna do it again? Definitely. Bonnie Bennet is a badass despite the fact that literally everything goes against her. She isn’t a badass because it’s easy, she’s a badass because it’s in her fucking DNA. No one wants her to be a badass— even her grandma at some points hates her— but she can’t turn it off so she doesn’t. She shouldn’t turn it off. She’s level headed but oh boy when she gets angry fucking watch out. She’s ride or die for her friends but will put them in her place when she needs to. She’s the most powerful one but no one treats her like it?? Creative problem solver with a penchant to let her powers kinda slip from time to time until a building or two is on fire. Falls for the hottest people but also might fall for your brother. She is the hottest one— full sexy— and again, yes, that’s important.

TO Man — Marcel Gerard

It was a toss up between him and Vincent Griffith but I have made my choice. Marcel is the poster boy for found family but also for knowing when it’s right to separate and do his own thing. The true king of NOLA who has exquisite taste in music. He was kinda evil at the beginning but it really only made him sexy so?? He thought he was protecting his city and vamp fam and I think that’s reasonable. Cares deeply, is beyond loyal, and would kill for those he loves. Saves a dorky awkward gay from death and that goes without saying hey thank you ma’am dorky gay here thankful for you’re consistent messages in her inbox I would be dead on here without you. Accidentally acquires a child but becomes one of the best dads ever despite her temper and unpredictable powers. Has an on off relationship with an equally sexy blonde. Himbo CEO vibes and I think that’s lovely— like you. You are lovely.

TO Woman — Hayley Marshall

Fierce, sexy, hybrid who loves two men even though they makes her so damn angry. Family drama 100%, found family drama 200%. Wolf queen who appreciates the downtime of chilling in nature with a cold drink and good people. Would die for her family but before it even gets to that point she would kill anyone who got in between her and them. Would go to unknown lengths to do the literal impossible like bring her family back from the dead. Impeccable mother— impeccable friend— impeccable leader. IS SO FUCKING SEXY. Also kinda angsty lol.

A Favourite Song — Drops of Jupiter | Train

Despite what it may seem like, I didn’t choose this because I know it’s one of your faves. I chose it because when I think about you I think about little things. Dunkin donuts and bikini tops and mugs and pink purple blue bracelets and late night talks about nothing. The verses of this song talks about all the little things she does that makes him love her and that’s how I feel about you. I love you because you don’t say hi, you say things akin to “Finn Mikaelson deserves to feel sexy like the rest of his brothers” and I think this song has that energy.

A Favourite Movie — Treasure Planet

“You’re gonna’ rattle the stars, you are.”

A coming of age adventure story with an angsty main character and a happy ending— it’s perfect. Sometimes to find yourself you need to find a golden map, get your moms rich friend to fun your pirate ship, hire a sexy cat captain, and befriend a father figure whose also a villain. Sometimes you also have to let him get away at the end. It touches on themes of discovery, forgiveness, trauma, and self love. Jim is a capable sarcastic smart kid and his best friend is an awkward robot who talks too much— wow, it’s us. Please bring me to space school when you get accepted 😌

I hope this makes you smile on your birthday! I love you most 💕

[bucketofcowboys]

Just A Whisper Away

This fic is based on the interaction between Majima and Saki at the end of her substory in Y0... I just read that line and couldn't get it out of my name for so long! I just had to write this! I hope you enjoy this super fluffy-friends-catching-up fic that no one asked for :)

Relationship: Saki (Yakuza) & Goro Majima, Implied Goro Majima/Kazuma Kiryu

Fandom: Yakuza (specifically 0)

Warning: Canon Typical Violence, but it’s just fluff

Words: 3,869

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074707

Saki's mind always seemed to wander whenever she walked to work in the morning. Not many people walked around the Sotenbori streets this early in the morning, so most of the time her waypath was empty and quite peaceful. It gave her enough silence to live out old reminders of times past. Each block seemed to have its own special memory tied to it. Some silly, some sad, some dreadful... some she looked back on fondly and some she wished never happened. The city weaved together to create a place where every street had a story.

So, her morning walks to the office were her favorite part of her day. She just strolls around the early morning cityscape and relives memories with a special fondness. Her favorite street to walk down was definitely Sochofuku street. Though the alleyways that twisted and turned into the old Sunshine cabaret club had been cut off, passing by the new Club Four Shine still gave her nostalgia. Sometimes she would say hi to Yuki, but oftentimes she wouldn't be there in the morning. Their scene was more late night, and Saki was quite too busy for that nowadays. She visited whenever she could.

Passing by the club always made her think about her time working at a hostess at Sunshine. She was fortunate that Majima took her in when he did and took her away from the abusive situation at her old club. The year she spent there was put in the box of fond memories in the back of her mind.

This morning she was brought back to that evening after her last training with Majima. As she snuggled into her warm fuzzy coat to brace herself against the cold winter wind, she remembered how she rushed out of the club to make it to a meeting that decided the entirety of her future. How she ran into the wrong person, how everything was almost taken away because she refused to ask for help. How Majima came to the rescue. Saved her life.

"Majima-san... you taught me that sometimes it's okay to ask for help... so if I ever find myself in another hopeless mess... will you help me?" 

She carried the burden of everything on her shoulders back then. Her family deepened on her for money, she was saving up to go to nursing school, and she couldn't just be a hostess without putting forth her best effort. She thought that everything had to be on her because she didn't want to burden anyone else...

He smiled at her.

"Sure thing. You just whisper my name, and I'll be there. Bam."

She smiled up towards the gray winter sky. She never actually got to thank him for everything he did for her before he left... It was just one day he was there and the next he wasn't. She would be lying if she said she wasn't heartbroken when he left. All the girls were. Even Youda was upset.

Saki's mind was too busy being stuck in the past to notice that a man was walking towards her on the street. Before she could catch up with reality, she knocked into his shoulder. The man stumbled and barely kept himself from falling to the ground. She quickly turned towards the man and gasped.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention! I'm really sorry!" She clasped her hand over her mouth to try and cover her embarrassment. The man looked mostly unscathed from what she saw, but he turned to her and anger could be seen clearly on his features.

"What the hell! Watch where yer goin' dumbass!" The brash man sneered. She frowned.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I really didn't mean to..." She tugged her sleeve back and checked the watch on her wrist. She read the time and it said 7:27. Shit... she couldn't be late today, she had an urgent patient to take care of that morning. "Have a nice day, sir! Again, I'm very sorry!"

She turned away to continue on her walk to work, but was quickly stopped when the man grabbed the back hood of her coat and tugged her back towards him.

"Ya think sorry is gonna cut it, bitch? Do ya know who I am?!" He grabbed her by the shoulders firmly and she struggled against his hold.

"I'm sorry but I have to go!" She shoved the man off of her, but he grabbed a hold of her arm and held her in place. 

"You ain't goin' nowhere!" He threw her into the nearest alleyway. She scraped her knees on the biting cold concrete and knocked her head against the brick wall behind her. Pain began to bloom from her injuries and adrenaline ran through her blood, hot.

She hadn't fought someone in years. Ever since Majima scolded her for her recklessness... she stayed out of fights. She tried to focus on her future and stayed away from trouble. Its not that she didn't believe in her abilities... but she was significantly weaker than she was before. 

"Get away from me!" She screamed, holding her arms up to protect herself from any further attacks.

"You think ya can just disrespect me like that and get away with it?" 

"I didn't do anything! Help!" She called desperately. The only response to her cry for help was her own echo bouncing on the walls of the alleyway. 

She flinched when she saw the gleam of something sharp catch her eye. That's when she really began to struggle hard against the man's efforts. She kicked at his legs with as much effort as she could, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Bobby pins fell from her previously neat bun, and her vision began to go spotty and black around the edges.

She felt dizzy and nauseous and her head pounded in time with her racing pulse. The situation brought her back to the memory she was reminiscing on mere minutes ago. She was sure she would be in this exact situation if Majima hadn't come to the rescue. But now... Majima wasn't here. Hadn't been here for a while. She was strong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight against an armed man. 

"...just whisper my name..."

The only thing she could think of was that phrase playing over and over in her head. She knew it was meant to be a passing reassurance, a small joke meant to never be thought of again... but now it seemed like a lifeline. 

"M-Majima..." She breathed out so quiet she could barely hear herself say it. She almost felt embarrassed at how helpless she felt. She promised him long ago that she would ask for help when she needed it... and she needed it desperately now. 

"Speak up, princess! Got somethin' to say?"

"Majima-San!" She screamed out, calling his name in hopes that maybe, somehow, he would hear her cries. That maybe, by some miracle, he would come and save her. That he would keep his promise from so long ago.

"Huh? Majima-Han? That your boyfriend or somethin'? Go ahead bitch, cry. Ain't nobody comin'!" Her attacker laughed as if he had said something funny. He then raised his dagger, ready to strike. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered herself with her arms. She braced for the sharp bite of metal. But, after a few moments of waiting, she didn't feel it. 

Instead she heard the sound of metal clattering to the ground and a sharp gasp of pain coming from her attacker. Her eyes shot open and when she looked up she could barely believe it.

It was him.

She had to do a double take just to see if she was imagining it or not. Everything about him was different. His long, neat, tied up hair was now short, his sunken in look had been replaced with a more plump healthy glow, and his beautifully tailored tux had been scrapped for a tacky snakeskin jacket. But that eyepatch and the angry twitch of his bowed lips was enough for her to know that this was her Majima. 

"Yo..." His voice rung out deep-- which was never a good sign. Majima only ever spoke that way when he was really mad. It was rare for anyone to hear him talk like that in the cabaret club. The only time she ever heard him talk like that was when dealing with particularly rude customers... or when he protected her all those years ago. "What the hell do ya think you're doing?"

He stood tall behind her attacker, his gloved hand in a vice like grip around his wrist. The man hissed in pain and tried to pull out of his hold.

"What the fuck, man! Step off!" He yelled as he struggled to pull away. He used his other hand to throw a punch in Majima's direction, but he quickly ducked his head out of the way before it could collide. He twisted the man's arm behind his back painfully and he squealed like a pig. He shoved him face first into the wall opposite of where Saki still sat on the floor. His face scratched against the rough concrete and a groan left the man.

"Sorry, ya rat bastard, but I don't let people get away with hurting my friends like that. Ya understand?" He growled into the perpetrator's ear like he was spitting venom. He shoved him harder against the wall and earned himself a cry in response.

"Majima-San..." Saki whispered in disbelief. She was half convinced that the man had knocked her out and she was now in the middle of a head trauma induced coma. He glanced back at her with his good eye and offered her a friendly smile. It contradicted the raged one he wore speaking to her attacker.

He pulled the man from the wall and held him up in front of Saki.

"Now... you're gonna apologize to this lovely lady... or I'll break your bones... ya understand!?" The man nodded quickly, sniffling back a tear before stuttering out.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!" He cried out. Majima let out a pleased hum at his apology. He hesitated for a moment before loosening his grip on the man. The man took the opportunity to run as soon as he could. But before he could get only a few steps away, Majima punched him so hard in the jaw that he hit his head on the nearby wall and blacked on on the concrete.

Majima stepped over to the newly unconscious man and nudged him with his foot. He seemed to be completely knocked out cold. Majima sighed.

"Ya get what ya deserve, asshole." He turned back towards the, still very stunned, Saki. That familiar, warm smile came to his lips and he stepped towards her. "Ya alright?" 

He offered his hand out to her, and she quickly took it. He hauled her up to her feet and brushed some grime from the ground off of her winter coat. 

"I..." Words were lost from her. She didn't know what to say... She hadn't seen Majima for years, and then all of a sudden there he is. What was she meant to say? "I didn't think you would come." She admitted. 

"Good thing I was in the neighborhood then, yeah?" He chuckled softly. She just stared up at him in disbelief. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Majima spoke once again. "Ya alright? He didn't knock ya up too badly did he?" 

He reached forwards and gently pressed a gloved finger to a slowly forming bruise near her hairline. She hissed in pain, and reached up to gently push his hand away.

"I'll be fine... just a few bumps and bruises..." Nothing she couldn't fix herself. 

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah I'm sure!" She pouted up at him. Their bickering reminded him so much of the old days back at the club.

She still was trying to process the fact that Majima Goro, Lord of the Night, and the man that saved her life--not once now, but twice, was standing right in front of her. Finally her confused face cracked into a smile. A bright smile filled with the joy of memories past and an old friend brought back from the dead.

"You big lug, I can't believe you actually came!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "It's been too long, Majima-San..."

An awkward beat of silence passed between them where Majima just stood still without much reaction, but eventually the man warmed up to it. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and squeezed her just hard enough to know that he missed her too. Eventually the two old friends fell apart and Saki smiled up at him.

"Where ya goin'? I can walk ya there so ya don't get fucked over by another brute." He offered with a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm heading to work right now. It's not too far from here." He perked up at that.

"Where do ya work? Not another cabaret club, I hope. Been a severe lack of good ones in Sotenbori since the 80s..." She began her slow pace back to the office, and Majima followed close by her side. For some reason, the fact that she was definitely going to be late didn't bother her anymore. She needed to catch up with him.

"I work at the hospital," She answered and got a surprised face from Majima. She snickered, "After you left, I went to nursing school, got my degree, and the rest is history..."

"Ya really did take my advice then?"

"Of course!" He gave her a look that could only be compared to that of a proud father looking at a succeeding daughter. Sometimes she forgets that Majima is almost the same age as her. He always acted like a concerned older brother, so she always imagined him as being years above her in age. Really there was only about a two year gap between them.

There was a pause where the two just walked down the cold Sotenbori street in silence. Saki kicked her tennis shoes on the ground before looking back up at him.

"What about you, Majima-San?" 

"Haw?"

"You kinda just up and left one day without a word... I want to know what you've been up to!" 

"Oh..." he paused for a moment and looked off into the distance, as if he was thinking. Probably trying to figure out what holes he can put in his story and get away with without her noticing. 

She knows he's yakuza, she knew since the 80s. Though a tux can cover up an irezumi, it can't cover years worth of wear and tear on the soul and an eyepatch she still never got the story behind. She was sure everyone at Sunshine knew he was yakuza, they just kept quiet about it. It was so odd to imagine the kind and quiet Majima being a brash and unforgiving crime boss. But, when she and the girls saw him fight, there was no question. Even less of a question now that his irezumi peaked past his snakeskin. 

She distantly wondered if he was freezing just wearing that, but he didn't seem to be reacting to the cold winds that brushed by.

She allowed him a moment to construct the PG rated version of his life in the past 20 years, and then he finally spoke.

"Not much, honestly. Left Sotenbori and started livin' in Kamurocho..." he rubbed at the buzzed off hair on the back of his head... she kinda missed the long hair. He did still look dashing, even if it was short. 

"Open up any new cabaret clubs?" He shook his head.

"Nah. I did open up a construction company though." 

"Really?" She couldn't imagine Majima at a construction site... but at the same time she could. It was odd. It's like there were two sides to Majima's coin. One a more kind-hearted and soft side and the other brash and hard. "I never knew you could build things, Majima-San..."

She remembered a time when Majima had to order a new vanity for Yuki after an incident involving a live wire and a spilt drink... she doesn't think Majima or Youda ever did manage to finish building that vanity... Spare pieces of wood and screws were strewn across the back room for months, and late at night before going home she could hear Majima cussing out the instructions. So she couldn't imagine him actually being able to build things.

"I don't build, that's my team's job." That made more sense.

"Then what do you do?" He froze for a moment.

"Uhh... managin'. Stuff like that."

"I see." She had to stifle a giggle.

She took a turn down the wrong alleyway, but she didn't stop and turn back. Neither did Majima. He followed blindly as she led him in circles around the block instead of actually heading towards her destination.

"Do you have a family now, Majima? Are you married?" 

"Nah, not really my thing." 

"A significant other?" She noticed that he froze up at that question. A smirk came to her lips. 

"I-I guess? I don't know. It's complicated with him..." 

"Ooooh, so it's a him? What's he like?" She asked, becoming increasingly eager to continue this line of questioning. She took another wrong turn, but this time he grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her back onto the right path.

"Wrong way, busy bee. Ya don't wanna be late for work, do ya?" She pouted.

"Don't make excuses, tell me about him!" He let out a long sigh and glanced upwards towards the sky. It was almost as if he was asking whatever God there was for mercy. 

"...I've known him for a while now. I met him as soon as I came to Kamurocho." He finally began talking, she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too hard as he explained his love story. "We... didn't exactly start off as friends but now I think we're pretty close."

She watched as he fidgeted with the seam of his gloves. She had never seen him act so shyly before. He must really like this man.

"Do you love him?" She asked, and he quickly jumped back in surprise.

"Hey! You don't just ask someone that!" He scolded, his Kansai accent exaggerating each word. He threw his hands up in faux rage and she giggled. 

"Sorry, sorry." She apologized between smiles that hurt her cheeks. After a beat of silence she added, "So... do you love him?"

"Sakiii..." he whined, but this time she didn't back off. She looked up at him expectantly and he sighed. 

"I-I... yeah... I love him." He finally admitted. She could see the flush on his high cheekbones. Cute.

She shot him a grin, but spared him from any more of her torturous questioning about this mystery man that had Majima's heart in his hand. Though, she did wonder what this man was like... during their training they spoke about women Majima was into, but never men. Maybe he was into tall dark and handsome guys? Or more of the femenine types? Maybe even big soft types? Probably one who could cook. He always said that a meal was a way to a man's heart. 

"What about you? You got anyone?" He asked.

"Yeah... I got someone." She smiled fondly into the distance as she had a moment of recollection.

She had met him a few years back. He worked at a Takoyaki shop she frequented, and one day he sat down and spoke with her on his break. They hit it off right away and the rest was history.

"I actually just got hitched last year! You see?" She held up her hand and showed off the gold and diamond encrusted wedding ring that sat perfectly on her finger. He leaned forwards and turned his head so it was in the view of his good eye.

"Ooooh, looks pretty. I guess he didn't skimp out on ya did he? Suppose that makes him a keeper, yeah?" She nodded along.

"Yeah... I think he's a keeper." 

Their walking slowed and eventually stopped when they finally made it to the front of the hospital. Saki stared up at the building for a moment. All the desire she usually had to work had been sapped out of her, and all she really wanted to do was walk around town and talk to her old friend. But, work was still more important than that. She sighed softly before turning to face Majima.

"This is the place. Thank you for walking with me, Majima-San." She thanked him with a short bow.

"Of course. I couldn't just let ya walk alone after an attack like that." Her head was still throbbing, and the bruises on her were beginning to settle into a dull ache, but she would be fine. She would be in worse shape if Majima hadn't been there.

"Well... it was good seein' ya again, Saki-Chan." She nodded in agreement. He turned to leave after that.

Saki couldn't help but feel an overwhelming feeling of dread as he left. He would walk away and into the shadows and then poof! He's gone forever. Never to be seen again. Like dust blown away in the wind. A ghost only remembered in stories and whispers of the past... she didn't want him to be a ghost.

"Majima-San!" She called after him before that snakeskin jacket could faze out of sight. He turned back to look at her, and she had to cup her hands around her mouth to speak loud enough for him to hear. "Don't be a stranger! We miss you!"

She could see the flash of his smile, even with the distance. He cupped his hands around his mouth as well and shouted back.

"Just a whisper away, Saki!" His voice echoed against the alleyway walls, and he spared a small wave before turning away again. 

This time, as he turned a corner and left her vision, that dread was gone. He didn't have to be a ghost, or an old memory, or dust. She would see him again. She was sure of that. 'When?' was a question that could only be answered with, 'eventually'. And she would wait until that eventually. 

For now, though, she turned towards the door of her office building and stared at the blue painted Kanji on the door. She sucked in a deep breath, and pushed it open. Sure, she was going to get scolded for being late and fretted about because of the bruises on her face, but she didn't mind. She had almost forgotten that she was even attacked. She was on cloud nine after seeing her old friend again. 

During her lunch break for the day, she immediately got on her phone and made a call. 

"Hello?" Yuki's voice came through the receiver. Saki couldn't help but smile brightly when she heard her speak. 

"Yuki-- you won't believe who I just saw!"

[uwua3]

drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

[system-of-a-feather]

at least you get a fucking break from your life, most of us just have to fucking bare every single agonizing moment alone and on our own. but we're oppressing you bcus we wish we could just not exist anymore like you get the luxury of

Oh wow I really am shocked “Its really rude and offensive to tell people with a serious disorder that messes up lives, relationships, and daily functioning that also comes from chronic childhood trauma that they are lucky to have it” was the topic that got me my first aggressive anon (excluding ActingNT who is practically a troll so it doesn’t count)

I’m sorry you are hurting and feeling alone like this though. I wish you could have a break from what is making you feel this way as well, I don’t think you deserve to feel that way. I don’t think anyone deserves to feel that way.

Though I’m sorry to tell you, contrary to what media / Youtubers might make you think, we really don’t get a break from our life and we don’t get to “just not exist.”

From the outside, the times of being in the innerworld or “times not front” might sound like time to just go into a peaceful magical world, but often times it isn’t. I’m the host of the system, and I really don’t have access to the inner world, I just really get time jumps and leaps. I don’t get to relax anywhere, all I get is that it is one moment, then its some other time and I don’t really know what has or has not been done.

It’s not a break, its a time leap. I don’t get a chance to breath and I’m just thrown back into the loop as if I never stopped. And when I am “gone,” my life - all the bad and good and trauma in it - still occurs and continues and things I don’t want happening will happen and I will still be held responsible. I have hurt this body when I was “gone”, I have caused such huge issues in very important relationships of mine when I had a time leap - not a break. 

Before I worked to get to know my system, I would have times where I was having a good time, then something would happen, and I would “zone out” and find myself confused a bit and realizing I had said really shitty horrible things and for the rest of the day I would have to try to apologize and clean up for things I hadn’t intentionally done.

That is less now that I know my system and have gotten to working to work together, but it isn’t a break.

And as for “you get a break”, I really would have to ask who you are talking to? Maybe if you were to talk to me, the host, I get a bit of a break from time to time. If you were to be talking to any of my trauma holders / EPs that do not end up on this blog? No. A good few of them never do. 

For a good few of them, I know the only thing they know in life is pain and because of how our brain has compartmentalized the trauma, they are stuck constantly in a state of feeling pain and reliving trauma over and over. When they are front, they are always having a flashback or panic attack. When they are “getting a break in the headspace” they are re-experiencing trauma. I have at least three parts that haven’t experienced anything good since the time they split off - which for many, it would have been years.

Plus, it is also to important that we aren’t actual individual real people. We are parts of a whole so torn apart from what has happened to us that we can’t consciously accept that large parts of us are actually real / actually us. We identify as seperate, but as a whole, whatever our “whole self” would be, never gets to leave this life either.

I’m really sorry though that you are hurting enough that you feel that DID would help you and your life out. I really do help your life gets better for you and that someone reaches out to help you while you are hurting. Thinking having DID would solve the issue is wishful thinking that has been build up by certain media players in the community, but it really isn’t as nice as it might look to outsiders. There are people and things out there that are willing to love and care for you, and I know that it can be hard to believe, but they are out there. Having DID or trying to get it from a subliminal isn’t going to help you or make you feel better - at least not in the long run. 

I know it isn’t available for everyone, but if you can, please talk to a school counselor, a doctor, or a therapist about how you are feeling. You deserve real genuine help.

I know what it feels like to feel hounded by nothing but pain and darkness and to feel completely lost, hopeless, and scared and to want absolutely anything to get a break from life and the situation you are in. Even with DID, I have experienced that really harshly, so I really do hope you get the help that you need.

You aren’t alone and you deserve help and support.

-Riku (Host)

[1smolbean]

ok rant (? started out as a rant but descended into chaos) time

no but I find it absolutely fucking hilarious that my parents are like "oh just move on from your trauma" and then don't tell me how to do that, trigger me even when I've told them about my triggers, make me talk to people that trigger me, and make me go to places that trigger me. like...ya think maybe, just maybe, that, idk, I might have trouble moving on from those events if I have to relive them all the time? and I've explained it to them but they just refuse to understand it and they don't understand the word "no" either and I just,,,find this the funniest thing ever cause like they don't fucking understand! they don't! and I've told them but they refuse to! and I'm laughing this is so funny they refuse to understand

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING I'M SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY LIKE THEY REFUSE TO UNDERSTAND IT AND I,,,,,I JUST JKDJFKDLSJFLDKJFD THEY REFUSE TO GET IT AND THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER THEY REFUSE TO HELP THEIR CHILD LIVE A HAPPY LIFE

what kind of parent does that? a shitty one. they're the most hypocritical people I've ever met cause THEY'VE moved on from their trauma and they respect each other's triggers and my brother's triggers but like,,,not mine and why? CAUSE THEY'RE BAD AT THEIR JOB. THEY'RE BAD PARENTS and I'm literally laughing so hard this is so funny to me and my mother has said before that she is proud of me for not skipping school because she assumed I would but she's proud that I haven't. like,,,,wow okay I literally have no reason whatsoever to skip school though??? why would you assume that? and idk I just find it hilarious that my mother both expects me to get an A+ on every subject and also skip school. like bitch excuse me? that's...HHJFDHSFKHFDSKH THAT'S FUNNY IT'S FUNNY THIS IS FUNNY. I'M SORRY. I'M REALLY SORRY THIS IS HILARIOUS TO ME AND I WROTE OUT A WHOLE GODDAMN RANT ABOUT THIS BUT IT'S JUST THREE PARAGRAPHS OF ME BEING LIKE "MY PARENTS' HORRIBLE TREATMENT OF ME IS FUNNY" AND LIKE...IT IS THOUGH!

I feel like Alvar Vacker and Winter Schnee right now. like I just,,,this is so funny but I also want to stab something right now. is this normal? I don't think this is normal. I should talk to a therapist or doctor but I'm my own therapist and everybody else's too and idk it just seems...wrong to burden people with MY problems when they have their own. i should stop telling people when I'm sad, they don't need that. No, no but they care. why do they, though? my parents "care." they yell at me, say I'm not enough, tell me it's hard to take care of me, but they care. I guess. i think they care. caring is bad. caring for someone is bad. i shouldn't...i shouldn't trust people, because trust gets you hurt. and i hate being hurt. and i shouldn't care about people. i shouldn't care. do i even care? did i ever care? yes. but i won't anymore.

I have gone back to wishing I could acquaint a ridgdly edged object fundamentally used in the construction of walls with my biological father's facial structure. (translation: ok nvm I wanna hit my dad in the face with a brick)

maybe if you didn't yell at me i wouldn't listen to music so loudly. father

father (derogatory)

i am going to lie down on the floor and listen to Special Girl by dodie until i die

i'm the eldest daughter but I'm not a daughter i'm a son but my parents don't care

i feel nothing but the crushing weight of responsibility on my shoulders

I believe I need a counselor, or therapist, or- no, I have one already, I'm my own therapist

I can deal with this on my own

hey mother when you look through my tumblr and read this PLEASE GET ME SOME ANTIDEPRESSANTS OR ADHD MEDS IM NOT DOING TOO GOOD

the powerpuff girls reboot script made me speedrun the five stages of grief I hate it so much

cats opening partially closed doors with their FACES is wild and I love it

I want more soda.

everything hurts and I'm dying

Okay so what the hell happened here Nina please get yourself into shape you need to figure out why you did a 180 from being sad to being angry to being sad to being angry and also that gender can fluid you really be switching from "gender is for mortals" to "none gender left boy" with your emotions too

this picture of Winter Schnee perfectly encapsulates my mood right now

im in pain everybody! were in pain! specifically in my chest! what the hell is happening with my lungs

nevermind we're good now

YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO HURT THE WAY YOU KNOW THAT I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I FEEL LIKE I'LL BE OKAY AND I HOPE I CAN JUST MAINTAIN IT I WILL NOT LET MYSELF BECOME MY PROBLEM

AND I'M JUST WAITING FOR THE DAY YOU SAVE ME FROM MYSELF 'CAUSE I CAN'T HELP THE WAY I FEEL FOR YOU FOR YOU

AND WRITE IN EVERY SPACE THE WORDS "I LOVE YOU" IN REPLACE THEN MAYBE TIME WOULD NOT ERASE MEEEEE IF YOU COULD ONLY KNOW I'D NEVER LET YOU GOOOO AND THE WORDS I MOST REGRET ARE THE ONES I NEVER MEANT TO LEEEEEEAAAAVEEEEEEEE UNSAID EMILYYYYYYYYYY

*muffled sobbing*

it's projecting onto fictional characters with trauma hours everybody

DO OR DIE YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ME BECAUSE THE WORLD WILL NEVER TAKE MY HEART GO AND TRY YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ME WE WANT IT ALL WE WANNA PLAY THIS PARY I WON'T EXPLAIN OR SAY I'M SORRY I'M UNASHAMED I'M GONNA SHOE MY SCARS GIVE A CHEAR FOR ALL THE BROKEN LISTEN HERE BECAUSE IT'S WHO WE ARE

hey remember that "fuck therapy I'm becoming a knight" post I spam reblogged yeah that's my current mood rn

anyway that concludes round one of my annual mental breakdown don't worry I'll be back in approximately five minutes after drinking an entire bottle of soda