#which was internally irritation and anger but externally nothing

[longislandcharm]

PARTIES: Winter (@longislandcharm) and Parker (@wonder-in-wings) WHERE: Gallow's Grove TIME: Strongest night of the August blue moon SUMMARY: Winter is having trouble concentrating with too many ghosts trying to get in contact with her at once so she calls Parker for help in testing out a theory. WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and fighting as they talk, suicidal ideation, all the ghosties

She hadn’t wanted to end up in the cemetery that night. In truth, it was the last place she wanted to be but she had to test a theory that had been floating around in her mind. For days, the medium had been hearing voices in her head along with the images of different people flashing before her but that night they seemed to be the most overwhelming they had ever been. She couldn’t figure out what it was before, thought maybe she was cursed by something in this town, but now she was certain that she had a good idea of what was going on. How to fix it was the issue. Winter had been told of a few things that could make ghosts disappear but her custom made bracelet had yet to make it to town so that only left salt to try and stave off the voices.

Had she absolutely needed Parker’s help to test this out? No, but even through the fog surrounding her mind she remembered that he’d wanted to know whether the salt worked or not. Even with the way things had been left between them a few weeks ago she trusted him more than most in this town and Winter did not want to be alone in this cemetery at night. Who better to have with her than a man she knew could defend himself as well as her if anything happened? So, she’d finally answered his message that he had sent and after a brief conversation she did her best to stay as alert as possible even with her affliction. 

He needed to hurry though. She wasn’t sure just how long she could keep this up. Winter’s eyes kept closing as she flinched with each static-y ghost that popped into her vision. She so desperately wanted to enclose her hands over her ears in an attempt to keep the voices out. But if she did she would be defenseless against anything else that might be out there, the possibilities of who or what were endless. The salt was sitting next to her. She could try to end this now but Winter didn’t trust her shaky hands to do the job so all she could do was sit in the soft grass and wait.

It was strange, when he thought about it, how he seemed to settle back into his regular routines. Parker was a man of stringent rituals and habits so old they might as well have been carved into his bone. After the incident (that he was leaning towards referring to as simply the “Pendulum” after much deliberation and time wasted frustratingly thinking about it; after all, it wasn’t as though he was ever going to tell anyone what happened unless it was paramount), he was in such a state, so desperate to return to a semblance of normalcy that for the first couple of days, obviously, he swung in the complete opposite direction. Everything had to go on lockdown. Nothing could escape. No joy, contentment, happiness. No grief, sorrow, empathy. No irritation, frustration, anger. Nothing was made evident and he… didn’t really remember those days. It was as though Parker’s mind went on autopilot while it cleaned up the internal and external messes that were made - he had to consistently hydrate. He was worried that his eyes had suffered permanent damage because of how often he’d cried, which was decidedly more in those couple of weeks than the entire rest of his 47 years on the planet combined. He still found pieces of the mirror he shattered in his bathroom. And yet, Parker hadn’t forgotten anything. The days tended to run together, for sure, but he remembered what had happened on each day: the museum. The bodega. The Workshop, the jaguar. The nymph, the leviathan, the cabin. The bathhouse. He also remembered two different days with two different mediums in two different alleys. The circumstances were alike in that they were both female, arriving immediately as Parker was acting as the aggressor after being confronted first. They both asked what he was doing, taking the defense of whatever victim found itself against the Warden’s knuckles. They were different, however, in what had actually happened. Parker thought of Winter on occasion, about how she almost witnessed him commit a murder, albeit against a nonhuman. He thought about their rather cordial conversation online and how that was harshly juxtaposed against their first in-person meeting. He thought about how she had offered kindness underneath the defensiveness, which she was right to have considering how he looked and acted towards her. He had cleaned the bottle of nail polish remover she’d offered to him that day and placed it on his shelf; something that held no obvious value but she’d given it to him. The Warden looked at it and thought about that day, associating it with her. He owed her. So when she messaged him asking if he would go Gallow’s Grove, Parker was expeditious. He didn’t ask more than one or two questions out of necessity for preparedness before he grabbed his utility belt and headed to the location despite it being in Worm Row - he owed her. The Warden wasn’t sure what he was walking into with zero information as he got out of his car and glanced around the graveyard for her but it didn’t matter - he owed her. “Winter?” He called, clearly but not aggressively as he made his way between the rows of tombstones, only affording a second or two to look at the mausoleums before going back to scanning for the medium.

A new voice joined the ranks of the dozen or so already reaching out to her, the medium flinching once more. Whether that was because of who it belonged to or that it was adding to the immense overstimulation was anyone’s guess. She knew that voice at least, it was ingrained in her mind now that she’d dreamed of that night over and over. Winter couldn’t find a way to make the dreams stop and in turn she’d heard Parker yelling about what she was after smearing blood on his face almost every night now. Thankfully he didn’t come off as wildly desperate this time, more assertive than anything, and she was able to call out without her own vocal chords betraying her. 

“I’m over here.”

Before the man could even make it to her she grabbed the full cylinder that held the salt and held it up, having it ready. As soon as he got there she wanted this tested and hopefully over with. Winter just prayed this was what she thought it was and not another problem entirely or else this night was going to go downhill very quickly. They were stronger than they had been all week, a week she had barely gotten through, so if she had to keep going with them getting worse and worse she was ready to go to greater lengths to make it stop.

 Seeing him come into her eye line, Winter looked down to the ground in front of her but still held out the salt. It was hard to see him and not picture the body of the spriggan he’d beaten but she was determined to push those images out of her mind. It was also hard to even focus on the man when so many different people were flashing in and out around him. Maybe the graveyard wasn’t the best idea for this but it was too late for that now. “You wanted to know if the salt worked, right? Can you put a circle of it around me? Make sure it’s not broken in any place and that it’s a wide one.” 

It had to be precise. Lil had been so helpful to her on that first day they had spoken but she’d also remembered a lot of the books she had read that said the lines couldn’t be broken. It made sense, if they could get past the salt it wouldn’t help at all, right? Thankfully, Parker was somebody who seemed capable of being meticulous with his work if their previous encounter was any indication. The clean up was nothing but. “I think there’s enough there. I hope…” Her voice was thick, coated with fatigue and the pain that Winter had been experiencing for days now. “Please?”

Despite his deficient hearing, which instinctively turned his head more than it usually would’ve needed to so he could identify her location, her voice managed to reach him and Parker abruptly stopped in his aimless meandering. He turned abruptly, stepping over headstones and weaving around others until his blue eyes fell upon her visage, sitting on the ground and holding something in her hands. For a reason he didn’t seem to be able to identify, he was placed on edge - maybe it was the fact that they were in a graveyard. Maybe it was how she was sitting, avoiding looking him in the eye (though given their brief-but-established track record, that wasn’t new). Maybe it was the lack of opening dialogue that he himself rarely used but he’d long since grown accustomed to it from others. She appeared distressed, which he could tell from her messages just prior to this interaction. And now as she sat on the ground, holding up what appeared to be a container of salt like an offering to a deity, a small part of him ignited inside. It felt like a residual thing from the Pendulum, a flicker of something unusual. He felt– Parker blinked just once to push the feeling down and kept staring at her, listening to everything she was saying, what little there was. He wordlessly took the container of salt as the instructions repeated themselves in his mind: Make a salt circle around her, wide and with no breaks. Immediately, as she gave him those simple instructions, he could feel his imagination sparking. Parker was many things, most of which things that people would never learn about him either through a lack of information or not bothering to ask. One of those things was an artist. She couldn’t have known that but his own knowing that information, feeling it to be true about himself, instinctively made him want to do this if not for her, than for himself. To prove that he could. “Very well.” He replied with his usual flat affect and he didn’t think on it for long before he went to work, feeling the weight of the salt, how much there was, how thick he should’ve made the circle. “Why are you here?” He asked as he worked; he was also a proficient multitasker and while he wasn’t great with people, he could tell that she was obviously overwhelmed with whatever was going on and he found in his experience (though he wouldn’t say how personal that experience was) that talking about mundane things tended to help. Then again, asking why she was there wasn’t really ‘mundane’, so he cleared his throat. “How have you been.” He opted to ask instead.

The fact that he didn’t ask questions and just accepted her request made Winter sigh with relief, her breath coming out shaky and uneven. She didn’t want questions, not now, not when she could barely think. It was as if whatever was causing all of this was getting worse by the second, and what she suspected to be ghostly voices were starting to grow stronger. All she wanted to do was place her hands over her ears, knowing after the day before that it would help just a little bit. 

But the questions did come unfortunately and she found herself slow in answering him while she was trying to sift out his words to keep them from mixing with the others. His voice was thankfully starting to stand out as she focused on it, Parker’s proximity helping her identify his words as opposed to the wails and the groaning about problems she didn’t know how to fix. They were so, so loud. 

“I haven’t…been great.” There was no point in lying. It was obvious that she wasn’t her normal self even if Parker had no idea what normal was for her. She was slightly hunched over now as he started to pour the salt, her eyes closed with him at her side. She didn’t know this man very well but Winter was confident that he would protect her if something were to interrupt this interaction despite the things she’d witnessed. He’d really done nothing but that since they’d started talking online even if that protection came in the form of information, it had still helped. She could forget their first physical encounter for the moment even if it would come back to haunt her once more.

She made the mistake of opening her eyes just to see how close he was to finishing only to be met with the sight of Henry standing just outside the line that Parker was making. He looked concerned but the two of them had learned throughout the week that there was nothing he could do, the ghost flashing in and out of her vision more rapidly than the others. He was almost like a strobe light to her and Winter found herself closing her eyes again without even checking the line. “I couldn’t go back to the hotel…I shouldn’t even be in Worm Row right now. It was better downtown but I didn’t know where we could go down there without a ton of people around.” 

Her reply had come slower than the work he was doing, already seeming to find something of a stride and when she did answer, it was about to be expected nowadays, from anyone. At least she didn’t lie to him, though part of Parker would’ve found himself mildly amused by whatever explanation she wanted to come up with to insinuate that whatever was going on could’ve been considered ‘normal’. Nevertheless, he continued to work as she spoke, reminded of a few weeks ago with Lil in the alley. He kept in mind that he wanted to ask more about the tools that mediums used but now didn’t seem appropriate, not when she already felt so overwhelmed by something that he couldn’t see or hear. “Is it something to do with Henry?” Parker asked absently, reaching what he thought was the final quarter of the circle, still wondering if it was satisfactory briefly before ultimately deciding that she could’ve either asked her other medium friend to come help or done it herself so his job was satisfactory enough. “...I don’t like Worm Row, either.” He added after a pause. “It smells weird. Too many people wanting to start fights over nothing they can see.”

“Sort of.” She paused with her answer, the medium trying her best to concentrate on Parker's voice and nothing else. “He's not causing it but he's part of it, yes.” She wanted to make it clear that her new friend wasn't at fault for this. Even if the ghost had been a dick to her through their first few months together, Winter was aware that she hadn't been pleasant to deal with either and Henry had been just as confused as her. Not that she would admit that. Since their talk in the hotel a few weeks prior they'd gotten friendlier with each other even if the two were still smart asses most of the time. At least they weren't at each other's throats anymore. In fact, he'd actually been trying to help her figure this new slight out and had eventually pointed out the salt solution to her after she'd realized the voices were physical and not in her head. 

If she hadn't been trying to keep her stomach settled from the wave of nausea that passed through her, most likely from her splitting headache, Winter would have laughed at Parker's comment. Worm Row did smell. She'd gotten used to it since staying at the Elysium but this part of town was no stranger to what she felt was decay. That might not have been the complete source of the smell but it surely mixed in with the rest of it and made it pungent. “For some reason, the further I got from here the better this...ailment got. I slept in my car one night...” Another pause as a woman's cries of anguish cut through her thoughts, Winter flinching as her eyes shut tighter like that would keep the noise level down. “It wasn't pleasant but this...is worse.”

She really did think she would be sick if this wasn't over soon. Never in her life had Winter experienced a headache so bad that it made her physically ill but the overstimulation of all of this was enough to do so it seemed. She needed Parker to keep talking, she needed something to fixate on so that she could continue to block out the other noises around them. It took her a moment to reach back into their conversation and come up with a way to do that but soon she was turning the tables and asking him a question. “Start fights over nothing they can see...what do you mean by that? Elaborate...about everything. Even if you think it's not important.” 

As Parker worked, probably not going as fast as Winter wanted or needed but he also refused to do what was expected of him in a poor or rushed manner, he picked up on the young woman's replies, spoken through a filter, the process of receiving too much information at once with an attempt to keep the words coherent. Parker was familiar with the sensation, recalling… ‘Every time a room filled up with too much noise?’ Granted, Parker never seemed to be completely alone in his head, but he either didn’t or couldn’t afford to mind it at this point. ‘It’s because you love us.’ ‘It’s because he ain’t got internal monologue. If you looked inside, all you’d see is bugs.’ The Warden shook his head faintly as he managed to catch Winter’s request. He didn’t have to think long about why - she was trying to focus on something real, something that he could also see and control. Something she could touch. Then again, he thought mediums could interact with ghosts but surely there was something to having Parker there and not… he wasn’t sure. Lil? Winter had other friends, right? He supposed it didn’t matter; he was there now, he was able and willing to assist her, especially after she had treated him when he was in a decidedly more ill-tempered mood before. ‘Because you’re weirdly sentimental like that. I thought you had no friends?’ He didn’t. Winter was an acquaintance, only there until she realized there was some aspect about him that she didn’t like or couldn’t tolerate. That’s how it always went. And he would still assist her both as a Warden, a responsible adult (for what that meant around a town like Wicked’s Rest), and as a human. So, she asked him to essentially make small talk. It wasn’t one of Parker’s strong suits, especially when it didn’t concern something he was particularly interested in, which Worm Row certainly wasn’t. However… “A lot of arguments and fights start, in my experience, because of a difference of perspective.” He began as he worked, allowing his icy eyes to dart to her on occasion, if only to give her the impression that he still knew she was there, that he saw her and maybe even to give a nonverbal indicator that he wasn’t going anywhere unless the ghosts suddenly… what did ghosts do, carry people away? One has physically rammed into Lil, but could one do that to him, too? “They… pretend to steal a wallet. Or they think they see something. Or think they hear something.” He was over halfway done, now. “I suppose it’s not just in Worm Row. But…” He fell silent for a moment. Or silent to him, anyway. “When you think about it, a lot of it is something one can’t see. Sometimes it’s the idea of money. Oftentimes is power or control.” Parker rolled his eyes, his face otherwise emotionless. “Fools grasping for things they assume are there.”

She'd never been so grateful to another human being in her life before, the girl focusing on every word leaving Parker's lips as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world. And right now, it was. He was somehow drowning out everything else around her while Winter zeroed in, the ghost's fading to the background and becoming a dull chatter behind the main act. If she kept her eyes closed it would be a piece of cake to get through the rest of this compared to the last couple of days. She was hoping that once she couldn't hear them anymore they would all leave her alone, stop flashing in and out of her sight like the jumpscares that they had turned into. As he spoke, she nodded her head gently so as not to make the headache worse until she found the opportunity to jump in again, maybe get him talking a little bit more.

“They see what they want and know they can't have.“ She'd fallen victim to such things before, especially growing up in an area known for following dreams and what not. When people realize the things they want are unattainable they get greedy, desperate, unwilling to accept that they need to move on to other things to be happy. Hell, she'd not only been a victim of it, she'd done it herself. Maybe not to the extent that Parker had been speaking of but jealousy had gotten to her a few times in life. ”So, they convince themselves that others have it and they can tak-“

She was cut off as it seemed one of the ghosts was not happy to be sharing her time with the hunter. The same woman's shriek tore through her thoughts as if she was standing right next to her, screaming into her ear, making Winter's body jerk from the sheer surprise of it. That was almost worse. Forgetting the voices were there as she focused on what Parker was saying and then suddenly having them tear through her line of thought was just as unpleasant as the voices constantly barraging her. She wouldn't stop this time either and Winter lifted her hands to cover her ears in an attempt to block it out as much as she could. The ghost was crying out with...despair, is what it sounded like, searching for a lost love that she had no chance of finding. It was getting louder and louder and the medium couldn't hold back the whimper of pain as a sharp ache went through her head. This was it, this was how she was going to die. Overstimulation would soon cause some sort of aneurysm and she would be gone in no time, the pain disappearing from her life for good.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking. She'd take death right now. If it meant making this stop, if it meant sleep even if eternal, she would gladly take it with no complaints. Never in her life did she think she would wish for something like that but Winter couldn't help it while the woman's cries got louder, as if she were trying to claw her way into the medium's mind so that she could experience what the ghost was feeling. ”Please...s-stop, please.“ 

A plea to a ghost who didn't care whether the human was in pain or not. She just wanted to be heard, to be seen, and Winter wasn't giving her that. Tears started to fall from hazel eyes that were still tightly shut, the sudden wet streaks on her face cooling the heat that had risen, the only reprise she had from how awful she felt. This had to end. Winter didn't care how. Her hands pressed harder against her ears but it did nothing to help block out more noise, resulting in Winter curling into herself even more. ”Parker! Please!“ 

Whatever conversation was happening was inconsequential, Parker knew that. He was a proficient multitasker, that had already been established, but at her whimpers that almost went by him and his deficient hearing unnoticed, her pleas to stop whatever sound was pushing through her thoughts, and especially the cry for help, prompted the Warden to work more resolutely. He felt like he was running out of salt, a sensation that he wouldn’t allow himself to be stunted or altered by. He couldn’t recall if he’d ever heard his name called like that, not even by his mother or brother. He couldn’t recall if someone had ever expressed so purely or desperately that he was needed. It was an idea so foreign to him, a code that didn’t seem to fit into his sequence of ideas and robotic thoughts, that he couldn’t even have been certain that he was assigning the correct emotion to the tone he heard laced in her voice– no, ripping through it like lightning against the stormy water. Her body language was a visual indicator of whatever was going on inside her head and even if she hadn’t shouted, he would’ve been able to tell that she was in pain. The only thing he was worse at than casual conversation and small talk was offering… Parker wasn’t even sure what it was called. ‘You might be thinking of… wait. I don’t know the word either.’ He breathed evenly. Almost done. ‘It’s that feeling when you feel sad or upset because someone else is sad or upset.’ “Why?” He found himself asking aloud this time, responding to his family’s bickering. As he asked, he kept moving, kept moving, until the last of the salt was poured from the container, closing the circle. A perfect ring of white surrounding the diminutive, trembling figure inside with her hands over her ears and tears on her face. ‘It’s called empathy, my son.’ Parker’s steely blue eyes focused on her, his expression carrying… what might’ve been called concern, if only faint and subtle. “Winter?” He asked, his voice clear but with something unfamiliar clinging to the tone. 

The shrieking was only getting worse and the more it filled Winter's ears the more she wanted it to go ahead and physically tear her apart. This woman insisted on being heard, cackling with a higher pitched tone each time Winter let out a sob. It was as if she liked inflicting the pain that she felt onto others. If the medium hadn't been so out of it she would have realized it was a poltergeist intent on harming anyone in her path, especially those that could interact with her. But she was too busy trying to push it out, trying to make the noise stop by any means. She couldn't focus enough in that moment to remember that Parker was even there, suddenly lost to the noise that was surrounding her like a barrier that had been put between the two humans. 

And then it was gone. Her ears were ringing with the sudden drop of the decibel level, the girl shaking as she kept her hands clasped over them as if the silence was a trick the ghost was playing on her. It hadn't been this quiet in days, no more noise other than the normal sounds of the night around her. It was like paradise.  She felt like she could fall asleep right there in the middle of the cemetery, exhaustion enveloping her and constricting around her like a serpent sent to lull her to sleep.

Winter took a deep breath in through her nose and slowly lowered her trembling hands. It worked. The salt had cut off the voices of the ghosts that hadn't left her alone, the medium having collected them throughout the week like little trinkets. They were all gone. All but one. Parker's cut through the silence but she didn't even mind. It was so nice to only hear one person that she laughed softly at the sound despite the small detection of...was that concern lacing his tone? No, she had to be hearing things. Most likely a side effect of the wall of sound from before.

“It worked...the salt worked.“ She reached up as she spoke, wiping away the tears that had streaked her face even while more continued to slip from her eyes...eyes that she still didn't want to open. Even if the salt had cut off the noise from the ghosts she knew they were probably still standing outside the circle, all flashing like they had been before. Unless they got bored and decided to leave they would most likely be there all night. Keeping them closed, Winter started to raise her head, still hunched over from what she'd just experienced. ”Thank you...for helping me.“

To him, nothing had changed except that there was now a nice, neat circle of salt on the somewhat uneven ground. To her, though, the difference was night and day. Parker had long since come to accept that though he wanted to, there were things he’d never have been able to see. While he didn’t know they existed on the same plane as them, ghosts were now one of those things; all he could do was… trust that the mediums he’d acquainted himself with weren’t just lying to him, playing these things off as ploys for attention. She visibly relaxed, though the damage of what had been sightlessly assaulting her still clutched her frame, watered her eyes, shook her hands. Parker, by comparison, moved very little, every motion and gesture just as calculated as the last. After all, he had lost nothing, he wasn’t spurned or urged by anything other than the desperation in Winter’s voice. It was done, the container empty and Parker didn’t remove his vigilant stare from the young woman until she spoke to him. Another ‘thank you’. Another unwarranted ‘thank you’ that he didn’t earn. And that meant it was another ‘thank you’ that Parker wasn’t sure how to react to. So the Warden opted out of replying immediately, feeling his mind being tugged into different directions by the internal voices of his family. Wordlessly, the man removed his gaze from Winter and messed with the empty cylinder of salt, fingers brushing against the metal spout. Clearing his throat, he looked out and regarded the dark, eerily silent graveyard with its varied tombstones where his sharp eyes scanned the environment almost like a hawk before he lowered himself to the ground until he sat on the outside of the circle, facing the same direction as her as he kept his gaze looking forward. “I’m…” Happy wasn’t the right word; he didn’t experience happiness. He wasn’t sure the last time when he had. “It’s no problem. I’m– It’s fortunate that I was able to assist.” He lowered his head as he sat there, loosely locking his fingers as they were wrapped around slightly raised legs before he looked over at Winter. “How long do you have to stay in there… do you think?”

She could hear Parker's movements as he settled down next to her, the rustling on the ground joining the ringing as it slowly started to die down more and more. Winter could have hugged him, forgotten about the encounter weeks before, forgotten the sounds his fists made against the face of the spriggan in favor of showing the gratitude she felt towards him but she knew that Parker would most likely not enjoy something like that. He didn't seem like the type for affection. Besides, her head was still pounding and she didn't feel like making it worse with sudden movements. Deep breathing to try and calm her wrecked nerves and maybe slow down the tremble in her body was all that she could muster. 

“I don't know.” Winter hadn't thought that far ahead. All she'd wanted to know was if this salt trick was going to work, she'd never thought about what would happen afterwards if it had. It wasn't like she could wear a circle of salt around her to keep these voices away so she was stuck here until she could see that whatever was going on was over or she was ready to brave the screaming poltergeist once more, not to mention the many others. Now that she knew, though, she could plan ahead for another salt circle if it was needed. “I guess until I'm ready to face that again. It's lucky there's not a lot of wind tonight.” Why had she chosen a freaking cemetery to do this in? She clearly hadn't been thinking correctly when she'd tried to work this out and now that the fog was dissipating little by little she was starting to see her mistakes so clearly. 

As she straightened more, she let her eyes flutter open even as she kept them lowered. She didn't want to look up yet so she set her gaze on the ground in front of her while she used the sleeve of her cardigan to wipe away the remaining tears that had flowed freely. Finally, she lifted her gaze from the soft grass below her, her eyes landing first on the white line now surrounding her. “Damn...it's so precise.” Winter should have known not to expect anything less. The night she'd helped clean up his mess he'd been very meticulous with everything but this was just a circle of salt. She really hadn't expected him to make it so perfect. 

A flash of feet caught her attention and Winter lifted her line of sight even more to find Henry still standing at the edge of the circle, looking a lot more calm than he'd been before. He was still going in and out, as were the other ghosts standing around watching them, and though it wasn't pleasant to watch it was a lot easier to take in without the shouts of all of them mixed in. Now that she could see how many there were she could understand why she'd been so overwhelmed. Not wanting to focus too long on the mass of ethereal people standing around them, she finally turned her head to look at Parker, a weak smile being sent his way. “I don’t even know what’s causing this so I don’t know if it’ll go away on its own or not. I think...I should be okay now, though.”

Throughout his life, Parker only managed to learn most of what he could display through the observation of others, whether that was checking for physical symptoms of pain when a fae was obviously lying to him or careful mimicry of when he would inevitably upset Walker. His attempts were always shoddy, stilted, artificial. Now, as he sat next to the anxious girl in a graveyard where there were several ghosts presuming to be lingering around them without him being able to see a single one, he felt similarly. He wasn’t good at comforting others, offering an arm to steady them without them explicitly telling or asking him. Winter needed someone more emotional, perhaps. Parker knew that, as he sat next to the anxious girl in a graveyard where there were several ghosts presuming to be lingering around them without him being able to see a single one. She needed someone to give her gentle words, a comforting smile, assurance that everything would be okay. Parker wasn’t emotional and he tried not to be a liar, an unpleasant combination when confronted with someone who needed the opposite. So when she looked at him, a small smile crossing her tearstained face, he didn’t reciprocate with a smile of his own but he did regard her with a slightly different facial expression, one that was less harsh, less like he was scrutinizing her. “Okay.” He said with a small nod, lowering his gaze in thought. “I’ll stay here with you until then.” He wasn’t asking, not directly, but this was as close as he could get to supporting her without outright saying or perceiving it that way.

As much as she wanted to protest him staying with her, her own pride making it very hard to accept help if she didn’t absolutely need it, Winter couldn’t find it in herself to argue. Parker had already seen her at what she presumed was her worst, a hunched over mess whose words were barely decipherable. He’d already seen the tears flowing freely, something not many in her life had ever witnessed. There wasn’t much more weakness that she could show him. It was…humbling, if anything. Besides, her head still felt like it was splitting and it was comforting to have someone sitting next to her, even if that someone wasn’t the most gentle of people. His presence alone was enough. 

“Guess this makes us even then.” Her attempt at humor was lackluster at best but she was the type of person who thought humor could help any situation, not to mention someone who always kept a score in her head. She had helped Parker, now he had helped Winter. They were even in her mind. Still, it probably wasn’t the time to bring it up with her head low and the two of them sitting in the middle of a cemetery inside a circle of salt to keep the ghosts at bay. It was most likely time for something else, something that she dreaded; an apology. “Sorry…that I had to call you out here. I’m sure there are better things that you could have been doing tonight.”

He assumed the levity was for her and not himself, as he had since thought he established that he wasn’t one for humor. Nonetheless, Parker managed to scoff lightly, quietly as he lifted his head and glanced out into the quiet night, the “empty” graveyard that apparently wasn’t so empty after all. “Yeah, we’re even now.” She couldn’t have known but the Warden often considered things like that as well, as though good deeds were on an ever-shifting scale that could easily be reallocated, made up for on a one-to-one basis. Finding him in the alley that day, knowing nothing about him yet offering that bottle of nail polish remover in the hopes that it would help, offering to assist him, asking questions… she had tipped the scale and he still considered that this, perhaps, wasn’t entirely equivalent. The Warden didn’t really do anything, after all. For all he knew, she really could’ve just been unstable, as he was that day. Parker also supposed that maybe it didn’t matter; she had helped him, of course he would help her even if she didn’t. ‘It’s these moments of gentleness that show me that you’re human, my child,’ his mother encouraged softly, a memory in his head, a bloodied hand on his cheek as he expressed concern over a gash in her arm. The source was irrelevant, especially given how resolutely and effortlessly she’d cut its throat moments after and even as he recalled the words, he was just now recognizing the harsh juxtaposition they provided against the battleground they were on that day.

“...No need to apologize.” He added, keeping his gaze looking out into the distance. “It’s fortunate that whatever things I could’ve been doing instead are of little urgency. They will still be there when I return to them.” Parker absently fidgeted with his fingers now, feeling the calluses on his skin, the shape of his knuckles, each blood vessel that barely protruded from the back of his hand. “I’m… happy to have been able to assist.”

‘It’s fortunate that whatever things I could’ve been doing instead are of little urgency.’ Despite the downplaying of other activities that could have had his attention that night, him saying this struck Winter. She thought back to the messages she’d sent him to get Parker to the cemetery and realized he hadn’t needed much prompting at all. She’d called, he’d come running with very little questions asked. Had that been because of the assistance she’d given him not two weeks ago? Or was there another reason? 

Bringing her knees up, Winter layed her cheek on top of them, her hazel eyes fixed on the hunter for a moment. Had that been concern etched on his face earlier or had she been imagining things? Their limited interactions should indicate the latter was true and yet the two of them were somehow helping each other with something that could potentially turn dangerous each time they met in person. Right out of the gate, Parker had been helping her navigate this town, teaching her about what should be unknown to everyone and yet seemed like a natural subject of interest around here. 

Something deeper was going on here. They were connected and had been ever since she’d decided to stay in that alley with him, maybe even since their first conversation online. Most people in Winter’s life had never been able to see her so vulnerable and yet she’d offered that on a silver platter to the other man. Sure, he could protect her and that was a big reason as to why she’d messaged him that night but for some reason she cared enough to not let their first meeting scare her away. Maybe it had been the look in his eye that night, the raw emotion radiating off of him, or maybe it was his willingness to provide a random stranger online with the help she didn’t know she had needed but either way Winter came to a conclusion.

Looking away from him, her chin now on her knees as she stared forward, she sighed softly as the thought hit her, knowing in her heart that this was something she needed. Maybe he needed it too. “I’m glad we’re friends, Parker.”

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Sin-Soaked Yearnings

phantomichaelis (orphan_account)

Summary:

There are several mediums with regards to coping up with loss. Be it the loss of innocence, something precious, or perhaps someone who may or may not mean an awful lot to you.

Notes:

I want fluff, angst, and smut for the rest of the year. So this is a start, I guess?

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

"What do you mean, he won't wake up?!" Hollered the wee Earl, his usual unperturbed tone an octave higher.

"He just won't," The nameless doctor replied. "We tried everything, my Lord. But he just would not wake from his slumber." He added, as though he himself found the situation both odd and alarming.

"Is he," Finnian swallowed. "...dead?" He voiced out the question that Ciel wanted to ask, but the bile that threatened to climb up his throat prevented him from doing so. A glare was sent towards Finny's direction but the trepidation in the young Lord's eyes dulled its effect.

After a quick glance at the aforementioned body, the doctor gave them a reluctant shake of his head. "As peculiar enough as it is, I do not think he's dead," He mumbled, afraid to meet Ciel's eyes so he stared at Mey-rin's worried ones instead. "His heart is beating without a problem, he is breathing as though a normal person would, and no sign of bleeding nor any injury could be seen on his body; both the external and internal aspect of it."

"So how come he's not waking up?" Impatiently, Ciel was quick to ask, supressing the urge to stomp a foot loudly onto the ground like the child he was.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I do not hold the answer to that, Lord Phantomhive," said the doctor, with his head sagging a bit. "It is the first that I've encountered such a case. If I were to seek the attention of my fellow doctors working in the same field, they most likely would find the case unfamiliar as well."

"Then what are we to do with him?" Asked Ciel, gesturing to the unmoving body. "I cannot have my most competent servant unavailable for even just a wee bit."

A sigh of weary came from the medical practitioner, "For now all I can advise of you is wait," He said, gathering up his belongings and preparing to leave. "I will still see what more can medicine do, or if we're in luck, perhaps he'd come around after a day or two."

He bid the Master and the servants of the manor a half-hearted farewell before rushing out to his waiting carriage, to which Ciel did not even acknowledge, as he was still preoccupied with his butler's current state.

"Luck?!" He mumbled to himself. "Did he honestly expect me to base my servant's well-being out of sheer luck?" Was the added bitter retort, as he paced the side of Sebastian's bed frustratedly.

The Earl paced a few more before halting to face the other occupants of the room. "The lot of you," He addressed. "Out. Leave me with Sebastian for a whilst." Finny opened his mouth to argue but was quick to shut it, seeing as Mey-rin and Bard were already scrambling out of the head butler's chambers.

Once alone with the stiff form, Ciel was quick to yank his eyepatch out of the way. "Sebastian," He called. "I order you to get up and start fulfilling your duties to me, this instant."

The inhuman seal etched onto his eye burned bright, sending a faint purple glow to cover his ivory cheek, and yet... nothing came of it.

"Sebastian, that was a direct order from your Master!" He tried once more, but the only indication that their contract still was intact was the glow from Sebastian's own seal that pulsed with his own.

Exhausted, confused, and irked, all at once; he took a well needed seat beside the butler's tall form and place his small palm above the Demon's chest. Taking wee comfort from the faux beating heart under his fingertips.

Anything just to keep him grounded that Sebastian indeed, was still alive.

***

Irritation and misplaced anger was how he first voiced out his frustration.

Tanaka took charge of handling the manor during Sebastian's inability, and even he, was not able to escape the young master's wrath.

"Cancel it. Their offer is not worth discussing and Funtom's better off as it is now." Said the Earl, eyes glued to his current task.

"Are you certain, young master?" Reluctance was evident from the wise butler's tone. "This could potentially benefit the company in the long run."

That lone blue eye was quick to narrow at that response, his fine brow wrinkled with irk, just as it had usually been this past few weeks.

"Last time I checked, it is my company to run. Surely I would want and know what's best for it, wouldn't I?" His response came out more condescending than what it sounded in his head, especially considering Tanaka had been a major part of the company's administration up until then.

"Very well, young master." Quick and polite, the older male replied, exiting the room with grace. Knowing when he is not needed.

Guilt rushed towards Ciel like a massive wave, but already, the damage has been done. In a span of a few weeks he managed to disrespect the man who raised him, angered two of Snake's beloved pets, more than likely traumatized Finnian, and humiliated Mey-rin to the point of crying; perhaps losing Bard's respect along the way...

Ciel never stepped foot inside Sebastian's room again ever since the day they had him checked... or so the servants thought.

At night, after every other soul is within their own rooms, Ciel pads down the butler's place and lash out all of the pent up fury inside his heaving little chest.

"Are you not at par with the Undertaker? Did you not say so yourself that no one is a challenge so long as I give you the order?!" His mismatched eyes burned as he stared at the unresponsive form. Recalling the day that caused of all that ruckus.

"We could have fled if it was too much for you! You certainly are faster than him. But I guess it was that hellish ego of yours is what prompted you to stay and fight, wasn't it? You egotistical bastard!" A pillow was thrown directly at the servant's calm face but even that did not garner any response.

"I ordered you to rest, but not for this bloody long!" Frustrated hands were thrown dramatically into the air as the once vivacious butler remained unresponsive.

Once the fury died from his eyes, left with none but the growing ache inside his heaving chest; All that he could feel was the weariness of waiting. His shirt clad form slumped ungracefully onto the floor, just by the foot of Sebastian's bed.

"It has been a month, Sebastian," He informed the lad. Sebastian's perfect human mask looking serene and far up as he stared. "How long do you intend for me to wait?" The Earl added, in a voice so small that it matched how vulnerable he felt without Sebastian by his side.

***

Melancholy, came next. Masked under apathy and the lack of will to continue.

As the months bled into a year, almost everyone lost hope that Sebastian would ever wake up.

But Ciel was never one of them.

Their contract was still intact. He argued in his head. Sebastian's human body remained as well molded as how he left it a year ago, alive but devoid of conciousness.

Eventually, whatever ill-feelings the servants held against Ciel were quick to be dismissed once they saw through his year-long facadé.

The boy appeared as though he could not care any less about Sebastian's state but some minor slip ups of Sebastian's name gave away his longing. They pretended not to notice how Ciel disappears from his room every night, everytime one of them checks upon the child.

They were able to piece everything together once Finny heard it, one night. A voice, coming from the head butler's room.

His first thought had him ecstatic, concluded that finally, Sebastian was awake, but after recognizing the familiar voice of his young master, confused, frustrated, and just a little desperate; his heart broke a little.

Immediately, the boy seeked comfort from Mey-rin arms, Snake's calming presence, and Bard's strong words as the lot of them wept a little for what their young master had lost...

Once again hoping alongside Ciel, for him to have it back.

***

This was it, he was sure of it.

He could not see it but felt how his arms tripled their effort seeking for his prize. The strain of what it felt like eons of moving, trying to outrun the pull that keeps him away, was ignored as excitement bubbled up his chest.

It had been so long, too long that even a being such as himself was left to consider the possibility that he had just imagined all of it.

But alas, the pull of their contract was not something to be taken lightly. He could feel it under his skin, pulsing and thrumming as though reminding him of his rightful place.

He could feel him...

And he had agonize long enough over the demon's return.

It took him a couple of breaths before his conciousness finally settled, the dark room proved no challenge as his eyes instantly located the very thing that he yearns for.

"Young master." The demon let out, a mix between a sigh of relief and a soft coo.

The Earl, however, remained unmoving. Wide and unblinking bicoloured eyes stared up at him from the foot of his overused bed.

Under his ivory lid, their seal of convenant was pulsing wildly as though matching the erratic beat of his heart, but Ciel ignored it in way of softly slapping both of his numbing cheeks.

"Am I dreaming again?" He questioned himself, eyes shut close, afraid that once he opened them Sebastian would be back to his state of unconsciousness.

For it had happened before...

On several occassions he would witness Sebastian waking up, finally ending the dreadful wait that the butler had put him through; but once the relief settled on him, he would harshly be woken up, gasping, and alone amidst the darkness of his room.

"My lord." The demon frowned, finally shifting to rest his gloveless palms over Ciel's smaller ones, halting the slaps that were starting to redden those cheeks. "It is no dream, nor any illusion."

The familiar heat of Sebastian's hands, that sonorous voice confirming what Ciel witnessed were too overwhelming, enough to make his small form tremble as tears started to form under his lashes.

And yet he supressed it, refused to give Sebastian the satisfaction of being privvy to the months he had suffered because of his absence.

"You are shaking." The absolute bastard pointed out, one hand trailing down to Ciel's shoulder.

"Shut it!" Ciel shrugged the touch off, it mattered not how good it felt and how it had been missed.

"You dare have the audacity? Do you have an idea how long your absence was?!" The Earl rose to his knees atop the rumpled bed, towering over the Demon who was starting to shift from his previous position.

Sebastian shook his head, had wanted to comment how he missed Ciel's impertinent mouth but held against it as he left the boy alone with his rantings.

"A year, Sebastian!" He hollered, taking note of how the butler eyes were transfixed onto his mouth. "It certainly was a tad too long for someone who's supposed to be by my side until the conclusion of this contract." One hand reached to yank the servant's tie but lost his footing along the process, sending his chest to crash against the demon's; whom was more that elated to assist him once more.

"Apologies, young master; but it seems as though all I can reply to your frustrations are even more apologies." Said Sebastian, arms steadying Ciel as he sat them both atop the bed. "It is not by choice that I left your side. Never by choice." He reassured him, watching Ciel's features slightly soften.

"The reaper's scythe possibly had a more lasting effect than a stubborn and massive wound. It felt as though I was trapped in an endless realm as I tried to get back to you. I swam, I flew, I climbed, I ran, but there was a pull that seperates me strongly from his body." The butler explained, glad to have finally been given the chance to do so.

Slate brows furrowed a bit, his arms crossed petulantly over his chest as he urged the demon on. "You mean to say that your conciousness stayed alert over those months that your body have not?" Asked the unamused Earl.

"In a way, yes," Sebastian started. "But it is only with you. I could feel you, all of those times." A hand was boldly outstretched for he could no longer help it. "Your rage, your frustrations, every time you are irked, every desperate plea, and when you are losing faith in me, for it dims the light from our covenant every time it occurs." By the time he finished, the wall that Ciel built around himself was finally torned down. Left only with the reminiscent longing he had and all the vulnerability he felt during Sebastian's absence.

Finding consent in his eyes, the outstreched palm found its way to cup one ivory cheek, taking comfort upon feeling that soft skin once more.

"You've waited me for a year," The demon acknowledged. "It felt like I yearned you for a lifetime." For it is true, it felt like he had spent an eternity trying to get back to Ciel. With only the occasional glow from his hand to take comfort in and surge him on.

Ciel swallowed, felt himself trembling again by the unabashed confession. How was he to explain the agony he went through everytime he considered the possibility that Sebastian might never return? And the absolute joy that coursed through him now that he had him back?

"I shall alert the servants of your state. They will tend to all of your needs as quickly as possible." His voice quivered. Planning to do what he does best whenever he is starting to feel; hide.

"Mortal sustenance will do nothing for me, young master."

The presence was upon him faster than he could open that blasted door knob. Trapping him between the feable door and the familiar press of Sebastian's body behind him.

"It is you that I need," The demon breathed out, "Just you," hot breath ghosting over that small ear.

Ciel knew of that tone all too well. The breathless, desperate plea of his demon everytime they are amidst their once nightly tryst. Certainly, if he was to turn around and face the beast, he'd find Sebastian's eyes glowing malevolently with lust.

Even as certain as he was, he still had to see it for himself...

Then, he regretted it instantly.

Probably it was a mistake to do so; he tied it with how long he had last seen that expression but Sebastian had never looked so alluring before. There was something else in those demonic eyes, something that made his chest tighten. His demon's expression was that of he had never seen before, making him feel like he was most cherished and wanted above all else.

"You have no idea how I crave for you, young master." Those lips descended down his neck and up his throat, "How much I desire you," Suckling lightly at his adam's apple and licking under his jaw.

When the Devil's mouth bumped the corner of his, no resistance was made as their lips finally met. Ciel expected it to be rough and demanding in a way of releasing all of their frustrations. But instead it mimicked Sebastian's previous kisses: soft, sensual, and breathtaking in the most literal of sense.

"Sebastian," he heaved breathlessly, welcoming the sweet way the name tumbled out of his wet lips.

The demon growled, dove in for another kiss as though the mere distance pains him. This one was more ardent, tongues rolled, and teeth clashed, and without even noticing it, Ciel was on his back, sprawled beneath Sebastian atop the bed.

"It has been too long, my Lord." Said the butler, inhaling Ciel's scent, akin to the starving beast he was. "Feeling you but not being able to touch you has been an absolute Hell." Was added, recalling the times he wished naught but be by his Master's side whenever Ciel called for him.

Ciel managed a sardonic snort albeit how heavy he was breathing. "You brought that upon yourself, Demon."

"And with that I apologize," Was the quick response, "Perhaps I do not deserve such kindness but if the young master is feeling quite generous, may I please sate this longing, Master? I could not bear it any longer."

The desperation thrumming from Sebastian sent a shrill of excitement through his core, still he tried his best to conceal how much that had affected him.

"Shut up and take what you need." Ciel's indifferent reply. Haughtily craning his head to the side, as though he wasn't starting to stiffen between his legs.

The cotton shirt was ripped into two the moment he had his permission. They already lost precious time together so why waste any more?

The skin underneath was supple and pristine, lacking the usual marks that littered the small body after each one of their couplings. Still, he was more than willing to make new ones as his mouth marred the soft flesh with his possessive claims of the boy. Ciel was his canvas and tonight he'd be creating a masterpiece once more.

He worshipped that body with reverence until Ciel was hard and leaking from his show of devotion. Those inner thighs were bitten multiple of times, certain to avoid where the boy wanted him most.

Until finally, Sebastian ceased his teasing.

That scorching tongue flattened to swipe from tip to base, going as low as Ciel's scrotum where the scent of his arousal was strongest. Unabashedly, the Devil was quick to bury his nose right there, salivating as he put pressure against Ciel's perineum, lewdly inhaling his excitement.

Weakly, those small hips undulated, back arched and head thrown back. "Sebastian, more." He meant for it as a command, but regrettably came was a wanton plea.

"I've forgotten how ethereal you are like this, young master." Purred the demon, distancing himself for a moment to shed the barrier of fabric that kept him from truly feeling Ciel.

"When you're needy and desperate for my cock." He ignored the glare sent his way and took his place back between those parted legs.

"Confess to me, little one. You tried haven't you?" His wicked grin was answered with a confused look, so he elaborated further. "Tried to recreate the feeling of my hand surrounding this," The jutting erection was pumped twice, "or perhaps my mouth?"

"S-sod off. I d-ugh! did not!"

"Oh?" That silver tongue dragged lower, until his hot breath was against the boy's rosy entrance. "You mean to say that you have never tried to reach that special place," Ciel's taint was given a languid lick. "...here?"

"Sebas-" The name died on his lips once the butler started lapping at his entrance, tongue swirling, and lips suckling the puckered flesh.

"Were your fingers enough, my Lord?" Said body part were felt at Ciel's taint, how and when Sebastian had slicked up his fingers with oil was lost to Ciel. More so, when they had finally breached him.

"S-sebastian!" He could all but holler, hips unconciously shifting to allow his Demon a deeper access.

"Because the last time I recall only I can reach it."

"Ngh~ Seb!"

"Slamming at it hard until your gorgeous eyes rolled back... Ah, a most stunning sight." One that he cannot wait to lay eyes on again.

Crimson eyes heatedly alternated between the Lord's face contorting with euphoria, and the lewd way his fingers were swallowed up by the tight heat. He had gotten three inside and was happily making room for himself, when he heard it, choked out of his Master's mouth.

"Ngh-Please!"

"What was that?" Wanting to hear that sweet voice again.

"Sebastian," The boy panted his name, eyes opening to reveal lovely lust-blown irises. "Please."

"Hmm? Please what, my darling boy?" Quickly, he removed his digits, moaning from the slattern wet sound it made.

Then, the captivating boy surprised him further when the wanton expression changed to that of one befitting his title as an Earl.

"Please shut that insolent mouth of yours and fuck me properly!" Their seal of covent burned, along with the embers of lust that all but consumed the Demon. He growled with feral excitement, making his lip bleed from a sharp incissor.

Situating himself over the panting lad, he tried to contain all of his carnal promises into three meager words.

"Yes, my Lord."

Ciel all but screamed when the Devil plunged into him, the sound quite literally being ripped from his throat. It had been too long since he felt the heat of his Demon inside him, the sweet and agonizing stretch of accomodating Sebastian's girth to the thickest part of his base.

Shallow thrusts were delivered as the whole room shook with the demon's delight, finally reunited with his most precious Master. The organ inside the boy was thumping excitedly, drooling heated liquid that slicked up the snug walls.

"...Move." Came the next order.

It did not take long for them to establish a satisfying rhythm, desperate enough as they were. Knuckles gripped the sheets tight as the Earl was railed eagerly by his excited Demon, maybe a tad too excited...

When Sebastian paused and flinched for the second time, their euphoria was halted for a whilst.

"What's the matter?" Ciel asked despite his breathlessness.

Sebastian gave a weak smile as he clutched the area where his massive wound previously was. "It appears as though I am overexerting this body, master."

The pair stared blankly for a moment, until Ciel broke the contact with a light shove at Sebastian's chest.

"Off." He commanded.

With a sigh of defeat, Sebastian carefully pulled out, perhaps his Lord would allow them to continue once he was back to his full health.

A gasp later, it appears as though the surprises for that night aren't done just yet.

Groan was all the Demon could do when he was pushed on his back and strandled. Twin moans echoed in that small space once Ciel unceremoniosly sat on his butler's cock all the way through.

"Move with me." Was all the lad said before continuing their previous chase for ecstasy.

Once more, Sebastian found himself lost to the view of how beautiful his boy was. Not that Ciel was any less lovely doing anything else, it's just that this sight of him was reserved only for Sebastian alone.

And by God did the Demon took pride in it.

"Sebastian!" The boy hissed once he was eagerly fucked from below, one of the Demon's palms tugging furiously at his erection, causing him to lose his rhythm.

"Ah, young master." Moaned Sebastian, his head thrown back. "Fall apart... for me." He purred.

"Seb-bast! Nghh" One of the Demon's hand was entwined with Ciel's smaller one despite how drunk with lust the boy was. "Never .. ah! Never leave... me again, Sebas...tian. That's an o-order!"

"'Won't," The butler's hoarse but determined reply, "I'd drag you to Hell with me." He promised and let his eyes convince the boy further.

One hard thrust was given from below before he felt the familiar and well missed feeling of Ciel's walls clamping deliciously around him.

He stared, even amidst his own peak, for how could he not? When Ciel looked as if the Demon had brought him to the realms of Heaven, instead of the pits of Hell that he had just promised.

The boy fell forward and Sebastian did not miss a beat as he captured those swollen lips into a heated kiss. He closed his eyes and felt fully rejuvinated all of a sudden, more intoxicating than being fed ambrosia by the gods.

Ciel shifted to settle more comfortably atop his Demon, noticing the almost serene expression across the butler's face.

"Sebastian?" When Sebastian kept his eyes closed and his breath started to even out once more, panic was the first thing that Ciel felt. "Sebastian!"

The demon groaned from that futile attempt to shake his shoulder, he shifted and quickly snatched the boy above, locking his limbs around the small form.

"Sometimes, my Lord," He mumbled, still with his lids shut. "Demons enjoy to partake in the luxury of what you call sleep." A smirk was formed when he felt a weak slap at his chest.

"Bastard," The boy snapped. "You can't really blame me for reacting the way I did, can you?" That one was rhetorical and the butler responded by further pressing himself to the lad, until there was no more space between them. His nose was buried amidst the tangle of slate hair.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you awake." Sebastian mumbled out, feeling serenity the likes of which his kind did not even deserve.

With that, Ciel immediately welcomed the lulls of sleep. Content and admittedly a bit giddy from the promise of waking up in the arms of the one he longed to hold.

***

The noises certainly were enough to rouse the whole manor.

How to properly react upon their new discovery was something else that the lot of them clearly did not want to broach.

"It's good to have Black back. Says Oscar." Snake was the first to speak, trying to hide the obvious flush across his pale face.

Beside him, Mey-Rin blindly nodded her head, her glasses had fogged up awfully due to her quick and heavy breaths a moment ago.

"Y-yes... Good for t-them." She stuttered out, still gripping both of Finny's ears as the lad tried to squirm in order to welcome Sebastian.

"Well..." Bard started, clearing his throat as the noises finally stopped. "At least we know he's alive and fucking-- I mean kicking!"

Notes:

Come pester me on Tumblr @phantomichaelis. Kudos and reviews are much appreciated! ❤

The Heathcliffe Murder

Viscount_Vampyre

Summary:

A young noble Lady enlists the help of The Queen's Guard Dog to investigate into the disappearance of her father. As ever Ciel revels in a challenge, but a simple case of a missing noble is never quite that simple, and as he begins his work he finds that maybe she's not telling the whole truth.

Chapter 1: The Heathcliffe Murder Chapter One

Chapter Text

Chapter one – Another morning

Bluebirds chirped loudly outside Ciel’s bedroom window. Outside in the hall the steady stride of approaching footsteps drew him from the warmth and comfort of deep sleep.

Is Sebastian late today? The little Earl thought,

It’s unusual that I woke before him.

Blinking rapidly Ciel’s body slowly began to go through its process of awakening.

Pushing the covers away from his chest and raising a fist to his eye Ciel yawned, he stretched his back slightly as he rubbed grit from his long feminine lashes.

“Sebastian? What time is it?”

Raising both arms above his head he stretched again as he expectantly turned his gaze towards the door.

There was a slight knock before a voice called through the oak.

“My lord, are you awake?”

Removing his patch and rubbing the other eye now, Ciel felt overtaken by yet another yawn, and in the middle of shuddering from it and while in the action of rubbing his eye he involuntarily nodded in response before eventually finding his voice.

“Yes, yes, I’m up now.” He eventually croaked out, his throat was quite dry, and though he had now thrown off the stronger rigours of sleep he determined that the voice calling through the door was not one he typically heard in the mornings, but he couldn’t yet place who it was. Furrowing his brow Ciel eventually called out.

“Who is that? Is that you Sebastian?”

His hand instantly made its way under the covers and towards the spot where Ciel kept a pistol, he eyed the door with increasing suspicion as it unlocked and the owner of the voice entered into view.

Tanaka moved through the doorway and smiled slightly as he pushed along the small serving cart. Upon which was an assortment of biscuits and a blue tea set.

“Pardon me my lord, but if you recall you had sent Sebastian into London last night on the train.”

Having his memory jogged and upon seeing Tanaka, Ciel nodded in agreement and loosened his grip on the concealed weapon, “oh, of course.” Quickly inventing a reason for his forgetfulness he continued with an innocent throwaway. Though it would hardly matter, what would Ciel owe Tanaka, or any servant for that matter, in way of an excuse.

“I was so tired last night I must have forgotten.”

Unexpectedly Tanaka made a remark which encroached upon excessive familiarity, something that Ciel barely tolerated even in Sebastian.

“You were up rather late entertaining my lord.”

Making his way towards the window Tanaka began drawing the heavy curtains open flooding the room in bright morning light, and bluebirds were now much easier to hear.

Turning back towards his squinting master, Tanaka made for the serving cart and began pouring tea. Though slightly blinded by the light, Ciel fought through the spots in his eyes and threw off the sheets before sliding himself towards the side of the bed. Turning his attention towards Tanaka’s meticulous movements in serving, the little Earl spoke with an uncharacteristic level of haste, and caught the butler in mid pour.

“No milk this morning” Ciel announced, without losing a beat Tanaka ignored the small pitcher of milk he was about to add to the cup. Removing the spoon from the saucer, and placing it on the tray Tanaka raised the full cup and saucer and extended them towards their owner. Speaking in his usual, soothing, manner the old butler punctuated the action.

“Here you are my lord.”

Gracefully accepting the saucer Ciel inhaled some of the steam rising from the cup before smiling and letting out a satisfied sigh.

“As Sebastian is away I shall take the liberty of assisting you in dressing this morning my lord, and to that end I must ask what your lordship would prefer to wear?”

Making his way towards Ciel’s massive wardrobe, Tanaka opened the ornate mahogany doors and began selecting fresh underclothes and socks, giving Ciel time to think. After a few sips, he spoke.

“What do I have scheduled?”

Placing the selection on the edge of the bed Tanaka spoke quickly without having to think, as one would expect of a butler of his tenure. “There’s a meeting with a solicitor from Funtom at eleven o’clock, and then Lady Elizabeth will be joining us for luncheon and shall be staying with us for the remainder of the afternoon, it’s my understanding that she will be leaving before evening in order to attend a gala with some of her friends from York.”

Ciel nodded again upon reaffirming his assumptions.

Tanaka continued as he searched the drawers for Ciel’s garters,

“In light of last night’s festivities a light day to recuperate would be most appropriate; one wouldn’t want to overexert one’s self.” Tanaka turned towards his master and smiled slightly. Ciel smirked at the recognition,

“Indeed.” Finishing his tea Ciel sighed and feigned frustration, “As for the clothes I don’t know what to choose, Sebastian always picks for me.”

He placed the empty teacup and saucer on the end table while Tanaka turned and quickly assembled something suitable for the little lord to wear. It had been quite a long time since Tanaka had assisted Ciel as valet and he couldn’t help but remark at how much different his young master was when compared to a few, short years ago.

Ciel’s nearly flawless porcelain skin had been marred in several places from his captivity and Tanaka took extra care to not allow his lord to see his eyes looking over the scars on his back, or the unsightly brand, which despite the passing years, had yet to show any sign or intention to fade. Tanaka shuddered as he began to think, what horrors this poor boy was subjected to?

Ciel must have caught sight of Tanaka’s gaze because his eye stared intently at the butler, and his top lip curled ever so slightly, a famous telltale indication of Ciel’s displeasure at something.

After knotting Ciel’s tie Tanaka was about to straighten and wipe any ruffles or wrinkles away when Ciel broke the growing awkward silence,

“I can manage.”

Tanaka knew from the tone and the abruptness of his voice that Ciel had indeed seen Tanaka’s show of concern and was not going to be in a pleasurable mood for the foreseeable future. Tanaka briefly entertained the thought of apologizing but resolved that it would only further exacerbate the issue.

“Before I see to your breakfast is there anything else you would ask of me my lord?”

Ciel sat himself on the edge of the bed and adjusted his cuffs, gracefully spidering his thin fingers with a determined look upon his brow.

He deigned it unnecessary to vocalize a response but instead offered a slight huff. Tanaka bowed and ushered the morning tea tray with him as he exited the room.

Standing up quickly Ciel closed his eyes tight and breathed in deeply, steading himself and making ready for another day.

Meanwhile, somewhere between London and the Phantomhive estate, Sebastian was traveling back towards his master as instructed, but with a curious companion in tow.

-

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Summary:

Sebastian arrives with his companion, Finny introduces himself, Ciel makes his decision, and Snake scares Bard.

Chapter Text

Chapter two – Sebastian’s return

Steam and smoke bellowed upwards from the cooling engine of the train. Straightening his tie the noble butler Sebastian stepped through the doorway of the passenger carriage and landed solidly onto the stone platform.

Turning back towards the train car he extended his hand to assist a young lady out of the car. Lifting her skirt with one hand she took Sebastian’s in her other.

Upon landing on solid earth the young lady let go of her skirt and brought her hand towards her mouth, as she did so her grip of Sebastian’s hand waned and the butler raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Are you quite alright Miss?”

The lady adjusted her hat and swallowed her obvious discomfort. She nodded before leveling her eyes at the butler.

“Yes, motion sickness you see. It is always at its worst when I get in and out of carriages, or on and off of horses.”

She offered an assuring laugh to add credence to familiarity of the sudden malady and though it would have worked on most any other man; Sebastian was not one so easily fooled and was keenly aware of her true condition since the moment he had met her acquaintance in London the previous evening.

“That seems a most inconvenient condition, if I may say.”

She smiled awkwardly, as she agreed. “It is, truly. Though I am quite recovered,”

Sebastian and the young miss began walking down the platform towards the waiting line of coaches and open top carriages before she continued, “Shall we make for the estate?”

Opening his mouth to respond Sebastian was cut off by a high pitched loud yell.

“Sebastian! Over ‘ere!”

Nearly every head at the station turned towards the young man who had yelled and was now frantically waving his arms above his head.

The young miss brought her hand to cover her mouth and became struck with genuine laughter.

Turning his attention towards the colourful chap who had called his name he saw Finnian standing on the Phantomhive carriage. As he returned a slight wave Sebastian remarked that Finny’s smile had always struck him as being too earnest.

Finnian laughed heartily as he jumped from the driver’s seat and moved through the horses to make his way towards his waiting passengers.

“How was the train Sebastian?” He spoke in his characteristically oblivious manner. Sebastian gave a displeased huff.

“Lady Heathcliffe, this is our head gardener and groundskeeper of the Phantomhive estate, Finnian.”

The young lady nodded and extended her hand towards Finny.

“How do you do Finnian?” She said earnestly, curiously taken by the handsome young man.

Finnian regarded her extended gloved hand with a large degree of discomfort; one this was the first time a Lady, and a noble lady at that, had extended her hand to him and two he grew worried at the expectation of what he had to do next.

His eyes grew wide as beads of sweat were forming on the back of his neck under his straw hat.

I… I’ll crush her hand! I-I’m sure of it! He thought.

To Lady Heathcliffe she began holding back an involuntary giggle at the comical expression before her.

“I… uh...” Finny began before Sebastian interrupted.

“Finnian’s hands are at present quite dirty I should expect, you wouldn’t want your white silk to be soiled would you my lady?”

Finny breathed a sigh of relief at his rescue, and Lady Heathcliffe reluctantly withdrew her hand in such a way so as to avoid any appearance of awkwardness to an onlooker. She looked at Sebastian and nodded.

“Quite, I do thank you Mr. Michaelis. And I must apologise to you Finnian, I hate to have made such an imposition on you.”

She laughed to alleviate the mood.

Finny rubbed the back of his head as he laughed as well, relief flooding his chest. Regaining himself now he looked towards Sebastian and the Lady’s feet for any luggage he might carry for them before remarking with surprise.

“No bags Sebastian?”

Sebastian shook his head.

“We do not, now can we make it to the estate as quickly as possible?”

Finny nodded and vocalized his affirmation, “Mhmm, right!” before withdrawing back to the driver’s seat. Turning back towards his passenger, he spoke.

“Shall I assist you into the carriage my Lady?”

As her eyes followed Finny, Lady Heathcliffe seemed to have ignored Sebastian’s words. Leaning towards her shoulder Sebastian spoke again, “My Lady?”

“Is he an Irishman?” she said suddenly.

“Finnian, Uh,” Sebastian had to admit he was taken aback by the question, “I can’t say I know his background enough.” he lied.

After Sebastian spoke the Lady nodded positively before answering his earlier question, doing so without missing a beat.

“I’m quite well now; I expect I can manage the carriage on my own.”

Sebastian nodded, “Very good my Lady.”

The odd couple then made their way from the platform towards the waiting carriage and entered on either side of the passenger’s cabin. From the station it was a conveniently short trip to reach the estate, of which Sebastian was always thankful when he had to move as if he were human.

When obligated to fulfill the role of a mortal being it always jarred Sebastian at how few things he was permitted to do; cooking, cleaning, even traveling was made all the more tedious and annoying by the added stress of having to appear ‘normal’ before an almost ever present audience.

Though in the grand scheme, it’s not too much of an imposition on my time. He thought whilst he took his seat opposite Lady Heathcliffe.

“All in and settled?” Finnian asked through the small window in the roof of the carriage, Sebastian looked towards the young miss before answering. She nodded and Sebastian replied,

“We are. Now make it to the estate hastily, but do try to avoid the larger lumps in the road.”

Finny nodded before shutting the window pane and setting them on their way, the horses whinnied and began their clopping down the lane.

Sebastian offered an assuring smile, “Finny is very good with animals; the horses respond quite well to his piloting. We’ll arrive shortly.”

Lady Heathcliffe brought a fan out from her handbag and eagerly began fanning her neck as she took several deep breaths.

“That is well. I shan’t be comfortable inside a carriage for much longer.”

Sebastian nodded and opened both side windows, a welcomed breeze soon passed through the stuffy cabin and one could hear the shouts of labourers working in the nearby barley fields.

“Oh, heavens that is delightful… Thank you sir.” Ceasing her fanning Lady Heathcliffe allowed herself a slight breech in etiquette and leaned backwards allowing her back to enjoy the soft cushion of the seat.

“I must remark to your master that you have been the absolute pinnacle of a conscientious servant”

Sebastian smiled and placed a hand across his chest, “Please you’re too kind. I am simply, one hell of a butler.”

-

After his breakfast Ciel made his way to the drawing room to await the arrival of both Sebastian and the representative from Funtom.

Which would be first however gave him a slight case of unease, the meeting with the solicitor was of course a trifle, something that wasn’t exactly a pressing engagement, but the arrival of Sebastian was much more important. There was the secret guest accompanying him, one whom demanded to meet Ciel in person, who had information for him pertaining to the recent disappearance of a prominent Lord.

Who this person was of course would be a secret even to Ciel, until they arrived alongside Sebastian their identity could be anyone.

This was all to say that Ciel was mulling over and fretting at this case of terrible timing, as Elizabeth had been invited to luncheon and there was definitely no time to write her a valid, or believable, excuse. He felt entirely on the left foot without his butler to assure and to alleviate.

Though with Sebastian in Ciel’s service he doubted that there was going to be much of an issue with the timing, but even with the unlikeliness of failure Ciel did not like uncertainty anywhere close where Lizzy was involved.

As he sat and lounged in his favourite chair Ciel lost himself into thinking, options, and inventing different possible scenarios before eventually making his decision.

Grabbing hold of the nearby servant bell rope he rang for Tanaka.

It was less than two minutes before there was a knock at the door and the aged butler appeared.

“My lord you rang?”

Nodding Ciel then spoke, “I did.” He took a breath before continuing, “When the Funtom representative arrives can you take care of the particulars? I’m sure the green sitting room will suit to meet with him. Make the pertinent excuses for me.”

“It is not your intention to receive him then?”

A curt “No.” was all Ciel had left to say. His lazy and disinterested gaze indicated that he had nothing else to ask of Tanaka, and therefore defeated the necessity for the elder butler to enquire.

“Very good sir.” Tanaka nodded and bowed before exiting the room.

On the side table adjacent to Ciel’s chair was his chess set, the pieces all aligned and waiting for a game to begin. Out of habit, and to a lesser degree, boredom, Ciel took up a piece from the side facing him; it was the black knight. A slight smirk began to form in the corner of Ciel’s mouth.

Sebastian.

A peculiar feeling came over Ciel, as his servant’s name ran through his mind. Looking upwards from the board and towards the great bay window of the drawing room Ciel was surprised to see two carriages making their way down the lane of the estate’s grounds. The front carriage was being driven by Finny, and the other by a local man whom the solicitor must have hired at the train station.

Hastily Ciel replaced the piece on the edge of the board and stood from his chair before making his way closer towards the window.

“Speak of the devil…” he thought aloud.

“Though I suppose think of the devil is more accurate…” He continued to himself.

What are the odds that they were all on the same train? He thought. Regardless, I am quite eager to see just who this secret guest is.

From where he stood he had a wide view of the front courtyard and watched as Tanaka made his way from the front staircase across the gravel towards the slowing carriages. Finny began waving as soon as he saw Tanaka appear; Ciel imagined that he also began yelling hello to him as well.

Out of the first carriage exited the familiar, tall and handsome frame of Sebastian, clad in his ebony tailcoat. He was accompanied by a figure that Ciel most certainly did not expect. At first his mind wanted to exclaim ‘Lizzy’ but his reason quickly dismissed such a possibility.

Though the young lady certainly did bear a close resemblance to Elizabeth in terms of her complexion, hair colour, and similarity of hair style; her height, size, and unique poise most certainly distinguished her as a separate person. This is to say nothing of the colour of her attire.

While she carried herself and appeared to an onlooker as a quintessential member of the fairer side of the aristocracy, the colour of her frock, hat, and travelling coat were peculiarly plain in Ciel’s opinion. An indicator, to him at least, that she dressed so as to appear inconspicuous on both short notice, and without a professional’s advice. To anyone who may have been looking for her, it was her obvious desire to not be noticed which quickly made Ciel take notice.

Tanaka had made his way to stand closer to the solicitor’s carriage, speaking to the local man who was driving, giving him permission and instruction no doubt, to park the carriage at the side of the manor, near the stables and the servant’s entrance.

The young lawyer who exited the cabin looked eagerly at Tanaka and removed his hat before closing the distance between them as he spoke.

By this time Sebastian had made his way alongside the young lady to begin ascending the front stairs.

Turning away from the window and back towards the room Ciel walked across the parquet floor to resume his place in his chair. He eyed the doors to the drawing room intently, waiting impatiently for his lady guest and faithful butler.

The ticking of the clock on the wall opposite him gave Ciel’s already thin patience extra testing, as he began switching his eye from staring the clock down to observing the white ornate doorway.

The ticking grew in intensity yet further in pace as the seconds drew ever more painfully on, till finally Ciel received reprieve when there was a strong knock upon the wood. Taking a breath he switched strides and took on his ‘mature’ voice, invoking, as best he could remember, the professionalism and command of his father.

“Yes, come in.” he managed to call out confidently.

The doors opened gracefully and Sebastian presented himself through the threshold to announce the entrance of Ciel’s new guest.

“I present the daughter of the right honourable Baron Heathcliffe of Dorset, my lord.”

Upon bowing his head Sebastian stepped to the side and the young lady entered, she was quite beautiful and her hair was even more like Elizabeth’s then Ciel previously thought. After taking a few steps past Sebastian into the room, the young Miss Heathcliffe dispelled any comparison to Elizabeth by curtsying to her noble superior before offering her hand.

Ciel stood up from his seat and softly took her hand into his; he leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to her knuckles before bowing his head at the neck in response and acknowledgement of her curtsy.

“I am absolutely pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Heathcliffe.” He said, turning his youthful charm as high as he could before it became comedic.

She smiled as she reciprocated the pleasantry, “As am I, lord Phantomhive.”

Looking upwards in order to match her gaze an unfortunate fact dawned on Ciel. Standing at the average height of a young woman, Miss Heathcliffe was several inches taller than Ciel, and his previous attempt to assert a confident command of the room was, in him at least, rebuffed.

As if he could read his thoughts Sebastian stifled a smile. The whole situation was not helped by Miss Heathcliffe’s exclamation.

“My lord, forgive me but… You’re so much smaller than I expected!”

Ciel’s eyes widened in surprise as he struggled to find his voice, he was so surprised that he slightly staggered a half step backwards.

“I… I regret disappointing you.” He said, struggling to hold back his anger and maintain decorum.

Sensing she had quite plainly agitated a sore point the young lady immediately set herself to salvaging her blunder.

“T-that is to say, I. well… from what I have heard of your reputation, I- expected someone, tall- older! I said older!”

Sebastian audibly laughed and immediately brought his hands to cover his mouth.

For a split second master and servant locked gazes and the intense glare in Ciel’s eye caused Sebastian to immediately swallow his laughter and recompose himself.

Regaining his role as a host Ciel spoke in his practiced tone cultivated to diffuse such tensions as this, “That issue aside, do please sit down my lady.”

Extending his hand, palm upwards, towards a couch Miss Heathcliffe daintily adjusted the frills of her skirt before sitting down. After she had made herself comfortable Ciel spoke again.

“Sebastian would you serve us some tea?”

Sebastian bowed his head and spoke, “Certainly sir.”

Turning back towards the young lady in front of him Ciel continued,

“Or perhaps you would prefer something else? I am sure you are famished from your journey.”

“Please, you are too kind my lord.”

“Sebastian can assemble most anything I assure you. In any case you will join us for luncheon I’m sure?”

Taken aback Miss Heathcliff struggled to respond,

“I would not wish to impose my lord!”

“Nonsense. Sebastian, inform Baldroy to prepare enough for another guest”

Sebastian bowed his head again and echoed his previous statement, “Very good sir.”

-

Meanwhile a slight cloud of black smoke was rising from the kitchen.

“You’re burning those!” Snake announced, punctuating the exclamation by indicating which of his companions had hissed the remark, “Says Gothe”.

Baldroy wiped the sweat from his brow and attempted to move the side of cod which had begun to fuse itself to the bottom of the cast iron pan.

“Oi! That’s enough out of you! D’you and those vile creatures wanna try cooking?!”

“It’s not as if we’d do a worse job. … Says Oscar…”

Turning from the stove Baldroy raised his spatula and angrily pointed at Snake.

“And stop doing that! Snakes can’t bloody talk!”

Snake furrowed his brow and his companions adorning his shoulders began hissing at Baldroy.

“We most certainly can! … Says Wordsworth…”

Upon opening the kitchen door Sebastian audibly sighed and brought his palm to his face.

“Why must I always pull you two away from each other’s throats… Baldroy have you burned yet another side of fish?”

Baldroy began struggling to find his words, “Uh, heh, well I was tryin’ to just sear it ya see.”

Sebastian began walking towards the stove, shaking his head and removing his tailcoat.

“Did you even remove the scales as I had indicated in my note?”

Bard became more flustered and dropped the spatula before stepping away from the stove.

“Naturally, I leave for one evening and things fall to pieces…”

After unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his shirt sleeves, Sebastian took up Bard’s previous position and began his attempt to salvage the entrée of the luncheon. Behind him Snake and his pets began hissing and giggling in laughter at Baldroy’s expense.

“Hey that’s enough out’ah you!” Bard roared in response, cigarette smoke circling his head.

Without averting his eyes from the pan Sebastian called towards Snake, “As the Phantomhive footman I should expect you, Snake, to offer our Lord and his guests ample refreshment as I do battle with this…” Huffing in frustration “…monstrosity.”

Snake nodded and located the kettle on the counter adjacent the steel kitchen washbasin. After filling the large copper kettle he apprehensively stepped beside Sebastian and placed the heavy, slushing, orange container on the long black stovetop.

Nodding in approval Sebastian watched out of the corner of his eyes as Snake began going about the kitchen doing his best to remember where the tea tins were kept and which set of china was appropriate. Without error Snake appeared to have remembered everything that Sebastian had taught him after they had returned from their recent, ill-fated, ocean trip.

“Baldroy how is it that after two months of service here Snake knows the layout of your kitchen better than you?”

Bard became even more flustered and his cigarette dropped from his lips as he began his response.

“HEY!”

Before continuing Sebastian raised a hand and cut him off, “That was a rhetorical tease, it requires no response Bard.”

Furrowing his brow and crossing his arms Baldroy started pouting like a scolded child.

“Come here Baldroy, I believe I’ve repaired the worst of the cod.”

Peering over Sebastian’s shoulder Bard’s jaw dropped as he saw what became of his previously charred side of fish.

“W-what? How’d ya bloody do that Sebastian!?”

The side of meat in the pan had been inexplicably transformed from a charred, dried out, husk, into a tantalizingly appealing cut of quality meat.

Turning to face Bard, Sebastian punctuated the action with an eerily calm smile.

“If I couldn’t salvage a side of cod and rescue a simple luncheon, well… What kind of butler would I be?”

-

Chapter 3: An Odd Luncheon

Chapter Text

Chapter three – An Odd Luncheon

After sipping her tea gingerly Lady Heathcliffe returned the cup and saucer from her lap to the end table beside her chair. Unease was painted across her face prior to speaking.

“Before I begin my lord, I must explain a concern I have with regards to propriety.”

Ciel’s eyebrow rose as he looked up from his tea.

“Oh?”

Lady Heathcliffe nodded, “Yes, it is just that, what I have to say regarding the events leading up to my father’s disappearance are…”

She paused, and averted her gaze. Lowering her voice she squeaked in embarrassment.

“Matters of confidence…”

Ciel nodded politely and looked upwards towards Snake standing quietly to the side of the doorway. But before he could give a signal the lady continued.

“Yet my lord, as we are both unmarried it would be most risqué should we continue unchaperoned for too long.”

Ciel, smiled slightly.

“Lady Heathcliffe, my fiancé will be joining us shortly for lunch and I can assure you that each of my servants is of the upmost character.”

“Oh! Goodness my lord, I! How silly of me, I did not wish to accuse your man of being low in character.”

Rather flustered she turned towards Snake and was immediately forthcoming with apology,

“My good sir, I do so apologize! I meant no insult to you, especially because of your affliction!”

Snake’s face did well at making no indication of irking, but his eyes revealed his hurt quite plainly.

While the other staff, Ciel, and even Lady Elizabeth, had become very kind towards Snake it always seemed to be his misfortune that one guest or another would remind him, unduly, of his ‘affliction’.

Irritated the footman’s thoughts immediately started up, ‘why can’t they see I’m no bloody different than they? I don’t have an affliction, and I don’t need to be professed to like a leper!’

As if he could read Snake’s thoughts, Ciel interrupted the lady.

“Please, it is quite alright.”

Turning from Snake back towards her host the young noblewoman gave an expression which made obvious her lack of ability in controlling her speech.

“Snake, might you send for Sebastian?”

The footman bowed his head and left the room quietly.

“Sebastian is my most trusted confidant and he is integral to my work. Above all he may be trusted.”

The lady seemed to become a little more at ease, though she was no less flustered from her having put the Phantomhive footman on the spot.

As soon as she looked back upwards the handsome butler had entered the room,

“You sent for me my lord? If this regards the meal I-“

Ciel raised his hand and shook his head indicating quickly that this didn’t.

Sebastian switched tact and nodded, he raised an eyebrow quizzically as he spoke.

“Then how may I be of service?”

Ciel moved his head to the side and his hair moved slightly, he slyly smiled and replied.

“The young lady was just about to begin revealing the events immediately preceding her father’s disappearance.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened and he immediately perked with interest. He quietly announced his surprise with a barely audible “Oh?”

Ciel turned from his butler and silently agreed, ‘Indeed’.

Beckoning with his hand he waved Lady Heathcliffe on, “Please, my lady, continue.”

She took a deep breath and paused. The clock on the wall quietly clicked along for a few seconds before she finally began her tale.

“It was just a few days ago…”

-1-

‘In London, we were at the city house; he, Father, had some business in the city… He had to meet with someone at his club I believe’

‘What was the meeting for, do you know?’ Ciel inquired.

Lady Heathcliffe nodded, ‘Father was picking something up from him… A gift? No, no… it was a package though I do know that.’

‘From the way Father was acting I,’ she pursed her lips and her eyes took on a pained expression. ‘At first I thought, rather selfishly, that it was a gift for me…’

‘The whole production, the way Father was acting, at first I thought he was being overly secretive on purpose, you know?’

She rubbed her eye with a thin finger, and continued, ‘Like it was a play or a story in ‘Punch’; the act of being clandestine for the sake of it just to build anticipation.’

Ciel nodded and leaned back in his chair, wheels turning quickly in his head as he began to theorise already.

‘Who was it he was meeting? Do you recall?’

Here the Lady seemed uncomfortable as she began to respond, her hands now stationary over top of one another in her lap.

‘It was a Mister Massey, or a Master Mercer, I can’t recall… It seems so trivial, I had heard the name a number of times before but now of course I can’t recall!’

‘For certain at least…’

She looked towards the carpet underneath their sitting area and traced some of the design with her eyes before shamefully speaking,

‘I’ve even met the man a few times…’

Ciel and Sebastian nodded and the young Lord perked back up in his chair, ‘What did he look like?’

The Lady paused, ‘He wasn’t English that was for certain… He seemed… foreign but… He didn’t at the same time? It was most odd now that I think of it.’

She looked downwards as she shifted her hands, ‘The whole ordeal is queer to be quite frank…’

She took a breath and looked back up towards her host, ‘Anyway… he was large, young, closely shaven, and he smelt clean… He wore very smart clothes on each occasion I met him. Well spoken…’

She closed her eyes as she began to picture him as best she could.

‘His hair was greying… Though he couldn’t have been older than your butler my Lord…’

Ciel and Sebastian shared a knowing look between the two at the joke.

‘He could have been continental, but he didn’t have an accent I could place and he didn’t speak any other language…’

Ciel furrowed his brow, and the Lady explained,

‘At first I thought he was Dutch! My governess was from the Netherlands, my whole childhood, and for whatever reason I felt inclined to greet him in Dutch the first time I met him.’

‘He looked at me coldly, which I thought was rude and then responded in English…’

‘Father was embarrassed at the time as you could imagine, but…’

She trailed off, ‘He was remarkably fit I know that, at least he looked like it… In all honesty I thought he was a new foreman or employee of my Father’s when I first met him, despite his dress, but then when Father introduced he and I he made it out like they were…’

‘Friends?’ Ciel injected.

The lady shook her head, ‘No… colleagues.’

Sebastian raised his head and looked down his nose while he too thought about the possibilities of the unfolding story.

‘They worked together?’ Ciel asked.

Lady Heathcliffe looked at her host and pursed her lips again,

‘Do you know it what capacity?’ He continued.

She shook her head, ‘Not at all my lord…’

Ciel furrowed his brow and brought his hand to his mouth, rubbing his lips with the ridge of a knuckle as he thought.

‘So that day he left the city house, he went down to the club,’

She looked to Sebastian as she continued, ‘he walked there, since it’s just a short stride away Father would often walk there, and then take the club carriage back home.’

‘I thought nothing odd about this as you can imagine, since it was typical of him. I was with the housemaid at the time… she’s teaching me to play cards actually…’

The young Lady held a hand to her mouth as she stifled a momentary laugh of embarrassment.

‘It’s scandalous I know! Women playing cards… but I saw her in a game with some of the other staff one night and from what I discerned she seemed rather good… So I’ve since implored her to teach me.’

Ciel nodded at the secret but wordlessly allowed her to continue.

‘We were playing together when all of a sudden our footman announced that dinner was to be soon. We had ended up playing for several hours and yet Father hadn’t returned.’

‘I was as distraught as you can imagine that… well I didn’t know what to do other than go out to the street and look for him.’

‘My housemaid came with me, as it was getting late and she believed that no Lady ought to be out alone in the evening. No matter how virtuous her intent…’

‘So the two of us went down the street to the club, I’ve seen it before having dropped Father off there in the carriage a number of times previously… But here’s where it takes a turn and… well, I became most unsettled…’

‘I bid my housemaid wait outside as I entered the establishment alone.’

‘I knew the rules, women were not allowed membership or general entry to the building, but Father had always told me, if there was an emergency in London and we were separated, his club would look after me and provide assistance if I ever needed it…’

Ciel nodded, ‘I should expect most gentlemen’s clubs would jump at the chance to assist a young Lady such as you.’

Smiling Lady Heathcliffe agreed, but quickly her expression changed.

‘But my Lord… as I said here’s where it takes a turn…’

Sebastian leaned in slightly, bending at the waist as her voice quieted.

‘When I spoke with the gentleman at the front and I explained who I was and who I was looking for… He told me.’

She paused and shook her head in disbelief, ‘He told me that my Father hadn’t been to the club in almost two months…’

Ciel furrowed his brow and brought up a leg as he crossed and adjusted how he was sitting.

‘Strange…’

The Lady agreed, ‘Strange indeed sir!’

‘So I left, perturbed and beginning to grow scared.’

‘My housemaid was waiting for me and I told her that we were going to search the streets for him, block by block…’

Ciel’s face changed, he was impressed at the young Lady’s courage.

‘The two of you searched alone, in the dark?’

She nodded and her eyes crinkled in the corners as she held back emotion.

Ciel’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to speak, lest her emotion escalate. ‘…for how long?’

She sobbed slightly, ‘Hours… we went street by street… Into alleys…’

‘I kept having visions that I would find him, attacked… or savaged by ruffians…’

She wiped her eyes, ‘but I didn’t stop…’

‘I wasn’t about to give up…’

Sebastian moved a strand of hair from his vision and continued to watch the young Lady.

‘We enlisted a Constable to help us… I described what he looked like and the officer was so kind… He stayed with us, asking locals if they had seen my James…’

‘Hours the three of us searched… Calling his name… looking down corners, into alleys… We even tried talking to shopkeepers along the street, but they were all closing as you can appreciate and if they hadn’t yet closed the workers explained that they hadn’t seen him before…’

She stifled another sob as a tear fell down her red cheek.

‘Eventually one of the men on the street the officer asked did say that he had seen my Father… or at least someone wearing his clothes…’

‘So I was hopeful… The man was seen entering a public house near the end of Hallam-Strand. By now I was deeply concerned… What could my Father possibly be doing that far from the city house? And more than that! What was he doing at such a… a…’

She stopped, looking down she quietly collected herself, and she was almost whispering now, ‘…such a low class place.’

Sebastian nodded, ‘Hallam-Strand is a rather, questionable, area to say the least.’

She looked away from Ciel to the tall butler, ‘Oh you know it?’

‘I know of it…’ he clarified.

Ciel agreed and he explained, hoping to quickly put his guest at ease, ‘We make it our business to know of as many places as we can in the course of our investigations.’

She nodded, ‘Of course…’

‘You didn’t go to the pub then, did you?’

Lady Heathcliffe nodded, ‘Damn what others thought… My housemaid pleaded with me not to go, but she couldn’t stop me, I said.’

Ciel’s eyebrow arched.

‘The officer was all one could have hoped for in a gentleman though… He said that he’d go with me if I wanted to check the place.’

‘So he led us there, and I swear I shan’t forget the smell or the sight of that place till the day I die…’

‘It reeked of rotten fruit, and… and stale sickness. Ale and wine burned the nostrils and the whole building was filled with a cloud of smoke.’

‘I covered my mouth with my dress and followed the officer closely through the crowded mass of people within.’

‘I held my housemaid’s hand the whole time.’

‘The officer reached the bar and spoke with the barmaid, and then he waved me over to talk with her. She told me that my Father had indeed come into the building earlier that day.’

‘At first I was relieved… I didn’t care that he lied about where he was going, I was just relieved that someone had seen him…’

The young lady tilted her head as she carefully recalled the next details.

‘This is important… because I don’t want to forget it… and I don’t want to tell it wrong.’

Ciel uncrossed his leg and shimmied closer in his chair, ‘Take your time, please.’

Nodding she took a slow breath and continued.

‘She told me that he had met a man there… and before he arrived my Father had told her that should I come to the bar to give me this.’

Lady Heathcliffe reached a hand into the collar of her blouse to pull out a thick, darkly coloured, iron pendant.

She unclipped the chain and removed it from her neck, holding it out towards Sebastian she continued speaking as he tentatively picked it up.

‘She told me that he had said I was to; ‘wear this until you meet dog…’ she paused and closed her eyes tightly, ‘No, it was…’

She shook her head and quietly snapped her finger… ‘Wear this until you meet the dog or the spider…’

She nodded again, and repeated herself, ‘the dog or the spider! Yes… that’s it!’

Her eyes opened and Ciel was staring intensely at her with his eye.

‘That was it?’

‘Yes actually… It was so unbelievably strange I couldn’t help but remember it… After that I asked if my Father had left with the man and she said that he hadn’t… In fact she told me that she didn’t see him leave at all.’

Ciel looked at his butler and then at the pendant he was now holding in his white, gloved, hands.

‘It was very busy so I could understand if she didn’t see him leave but… After that the officer announced to the patrons we were looking for him and he asked them for their help.’

‘I implored them and I even offered a reward, all the money I had on me; ten pounds if they could help.’

‘That’s a hefty sum to be offering in that place.’ Ciel said.

[ymiwritesstuff]

yes!!! i’m glad your requests are open!!! could i please get a revali x reader (fem preferred but idc ig) thats kinda angsty as revali has a rito gf but can tell he’s falling for the reader as she falls for him ?

Heyy thanks for the request, I’m incredibly sorry that you had to wait. I also hope that this didn’t get confusing as I worked on this on and off for a long period of time and as you can see, it got quite long. Still, I hope you enjoy.

Beloved

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Revali x Reader

Summary: A new discovery about Revali leaves you distraught and confused, your feelings toying with you and influencing your behavior in the worst ways.

Notes: Angst

The day was as good as it could be. The sky was clear, the air was just the right temperature and the pleasant aroma of the spruces surrounding the village pleasantly tingled in your nostrils as you made your way up the wooden stairs. The princess had kindly asked you to visit the village, wanting to make sure each Divine Beast was functioning properly and you accepted her request, though a bit reluctantly.

The village itself was among the most stunning places in the Kingdom, that wasn’t the issue. Rather, a certain someone had always stuck out to you in a troublesome way. Those emerald eyes mockingly staring at you, those wings that so gracefully carried him through the air, and that irritating and condescending tone in his voice, all that annoyed you to no end, yet you found yourself at the village time and time again and the more time you spent in his line of vision, the less irritating he seemed to become.

At first, you couldn’t stand him and his arrogance. No matter what he did or said he managed to somehow anger you, but over time, you learned to filter his words, and more recently, you found yourself rolling your eyes at him, unbothered by his constant ramblings about himself. And you didn’t know why. Perhaps you had simply gotten used to his demeanor, but there had to be something more as every time your gaze fell upon him, you felt strange, nervous even.

You went through these thoughts as you made your way to his landing, expecting to see him there as the day would soon turn to the night and despite his passion for archery, even he knew when to rest. You caught a glimpse of those navy feathers and lifted your gaze towards him, witnessing his landing, graceful as ever. The previous thoughts faded away and a small smile crept onto your face as you picked up your pace, Revali quickly noticing your presence.

“Here once again? Let me guess, the Princess sent you,” He said, that familiar tone present in his voice, though it hadn’t vexed you in a long time. You briefly laughed at his guess that had hit the bullseye and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yep.” You stopped in front of him. “So, anything to report?” These visits had become quite frequent over the past few weeks due to Zelda’s understandable paranoia towards the Calamity, and though you despised them initially, you soon found out that they weren’t as burdensome and tiring as you thought.

Revali brought his wing to his chin and appeared to be in thought, though you both already knew the answer. The Rito was skilled and had no doubt forged a strong bond with his Divine Beast so he facing any issues with it was very unlikely. His eyes then locked onto you, the tiniest smirk tugging one side of his beak.

“Everything is in working order. You and the Princess have absolutely nothing to worry about.” His answer didn’t surprise you in the slightest and upon hearing it, you merely sighed lightly.

“That’s good. I’ll let her know that there are no abnormalities regarding Medoh.”

You immediately glance at the beast that still roamed around the sky thanks to the impressive technology it was fueled by. It never ceased to amaze you. Your (E/C) eyes then moved to him, the mere sight of him making you experience that bizarre feeling you couldn’t describe once again. Despite his ego that was bigger than the entirety of the kingdom itself, he had worked incredibly hard for his achievements and if you were truly honest with yourself, he had every right to be as cocky as he was.

“I’ll do that. Now the-”

“And what of you? The Princess also wishes to know of everyone’s condition. Just in case.”

It was a lie. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask about his well-being on your own. He’d never stop taunting you about it. Revali raised his brow slightly and crossed his wings, that prideful aura still emitting from him.

“You can let her know that I am indeed in fine condition.” You lightly smiled at that, delighted to hear that he at least externally was doing fine.

“Revali!”

Both of you turned towards the unknown voice and you saw an unknown female Rito approaching you, her gaze firmly glued on Revali. Your brows frowned in confusion at the sight of the teal-colored Rito who got closer, her amber eyes glowing in excitement.

You were about to say something but when the girl threw her wings around Revali’s torso catching you and him both completely off guard, a wave of shock and confusion hit you like a bomb arrow.

“Nika! What do you think you’re doing?!” Revali asked, completely surprised at the female’s action, a rare expression of embarrassment plastered across his face as she hugged him. The only thing you could do was stare at them, completely and utterly speechless at the sight.

Who was she?!

“Oh, sorry!” She quickly pulled away, allowing the flustered navy blue Rito to take a deep breath and internally deal with the heavy blow to his ego.

“I forgot that you don’t like it when I hug you like that in public.” Nika giggled slightly, the sight of Revali’s feathers puffed up greatly amusing her but only filling you with more bafflement. Nika quickly turned her eyes towards you.

“Oh, who’s this?” She asked, more so from Revali than you. After regaining his composure that was so easily broken, Revali turned to look at you once more.

“Oh, I see!” She stepped forward and extended her wing, which you slowly shook, dying to hear her introduction but also dreading it.

“This is (Name). An acquaintance of mine.” The word he used, ‘acquaintance’, it didn’t feel right.

“She’s an accomplished researcher, the Princess sent her to assess the condition of the Divine Beast.” You had never heard him speak so highly of you before and as much as it would have delighted you, you couldn’t feel even an ounce of joy at that moment. You were more focused on trying to figure out the identity of this female Rito who stayed close to him as he spoke.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Name). I’m Nika, Revali’s beloved.”

Nika smiled and let go of your hand that had gotten cold due to... something. What was this? Your eyes fell on the wooden surface of the landing, this unexplainable sensation spreading throughout your entire being like Malice.

As soon as those words left her beak, you instantly felt something. Something... Painful. As if you were pierced with a Royal Halberd after a bombardment of arrows. You swallowed, unsure how to react.

“Oh... It’s nice to meet you too.” That was all you could say as her sudden words hitting you a lot more harshly than you thought.

“It’s getting dark,” you heard Revali say, his gaze landing on the horizon behind which the sun was setting. “It’d be best if we settled in for the night,” he stated, to which the Rito next to him nodded and began walking, most likely towards their shared hut.

You finally looked up at Revali. “It’s unfortunate you had to meet her like that, I didn’t expect her to cling onto me so... enthusiastically.”

His words didn’t exactly make you feel any better, but you tried your best to stay calm regardless.

And that’s how you met her. The one Revali called his one and only. You couldn’t understand why it had shocked you so. Why were you so bothered by all this? The strange feeling of sadness you couldn’t comprehend followed you like a Hylian Retriever clinging to its owner. It was unbearable. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, it was unlike you had ever heard or seen and the more of that you experienced, the more it saddened you. It took you some time, but you eventually understood the reason for this arduous feeling. Those actions of love weren’t directed at you.

“It’s... It’s fine. I’ll probably go now. It’s been a rough day.” Your voice had gotten significantly quieter and you could only hope Revali didn’t notice it. Fortunately, he nodded at your statement.

“Indeed.”

He turned away from you, ready to join his beloved. “I expect you to return soon, knowing the Princess, she most likely won’t stop fussing about the Divine Beasts until Calamity Ganon is defeated.” He glanced at you.

“So, until then, I’m afraid you’ll have to enjoy my presence a bit longer.” And with that, he left, not that you were surprised, he did so often. This time, however, you felt lonely as your eyes lingered on him for as long as they could before he disappeared into his hut, through which you could have sworn you saw him embrace his... Beloved.

It was impossible to look forward to the trips to Rito Village because you knew you’d see them together for even a brief moment. It was not Nika’s fault, no. She was a kind Rito and you didn’t need to wonder for too long why Revali was so fond of her. You were the one to blame. For allowing yourself to develop such feelings for him. If you had realized them sooner, perhaps it wouldn’t have hurt so much. All you wanted, was to feel his wings around you just like she did, to see those stunning emerald eyes look at you with affection, just like they looked at her. It was impossible, you knew this, yet you allowed the feelings to linger within you, only for them to hurt you even more.

You flop onto the ground with a heavy sigh after defeating a group of Lizalfos that were threatening Zora’s Domain. Breathing heavily, you wipe the sweat off your forehead with your sleeve and catch your breath, the Zora Champion slowly approaching you.

“Is something the matter?” The Princess asks, her soft voice and oddly specific question making you look at her.

“No... I’m alright,” you say, still catching your breath. Mipha kneels down beside you, checking for any possible wounds you may have suffered as she does.

“Usually something heavy weighs down on someone when they fight this ruthlessly,” she says, glancing at the rather brutally defeated monsters that she herself didn’t even get to fight.

She had noticed your merciless attacks and the way you flung your weapon. The Princess had never seen someone defeat their foe in such a ferocious way. In truth, you took your anger out on just about anything that wasn’t a Hyrulean. You kept the feelings bottled up and it was only a matter of time till someone noticed your distress. And the Zora beside you did.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what’s bothering you. But... I’m here. If you need someone to talk to.”

You glance at Mipha, her eyes shining with the most genuine form of kindness you had ever seen. She had her own share of worries, yet she was ready to put them aside and help. Her soft voice filled you with a temporary calm you hadn’t felt in weeks. Her mere presence was already helping.

You briefly look down, going over your situation. Keeping everything inside was already killing you, and with Mipha’s calming presence next to you, the words just come out of your mouth:

“I... I’m in love with someone. But... They already have someone to call their... beloved."

The word had stuck to you, and digging into your being like a sword, yet you let it slip from your lips. Mipha listens carefully, your words hitting her quite significantly. You didn’t know this, but the Zora Princess understands your predicament well.

“How do you possibly cope with that, Mipha? Every time I see them, I can’t help but feel hurt. I can’t get over him...”

“We all have our roles to fulfill, (Name).” She places her trident down and you feel her hand land on your shoulder. Her touch is gentle, much like the healing power she possessed.

“Sometimes... We have to accept the truth. No matter how much it hurts.” You feel like crying. Her words are sincere and you know them to be true, but you can’t bring yourself to accept them.

Your (E/C) eyes fall to the ground below you.

“But how? How can I possibly come to terms with it?” You look at her again, your eyes filled with desperation. You wanted to overcome this, you really did, but it was far easier said than done.

“The only one who’s in your way is you (Name). If you can’t conquer yourself, you will have no hope of accepting the truth. It is difficult to look at someone you love to be so close to someone else, but if you cannot put that behind for the sake of your own well-being, the pain will only increase.”

Mipha’s own eyes glance at the ground, her own pain with the similar situation weighing on her heart.

“Trust me... I know.”

Her words stick to you, slowly replacing the unpleasant thoughts that had roamed within you for so long. You turn to her, an empathetic glow apparent in your eyes.

“Thank you, Mipha. Guess your words also have healing properties.”

“However, there’s always hope. And you should never give up on it.”

A smile tugged the ends of her lips as she spoke, her expression reflecting her words perfectly. The soothing words that left her mouth gave you hope that you thought you had lost and that unbearable sadness turned into something else. You couldn’t help but smile at the Princess.

She lightly giggled at that as you both began making your way back to the Domain.

~

An exhale that appeared in the cold air as a faint cloud left your mouth as you let go of the arrow, aiming at one of the targets of the Flight Range. You lowered your bow to witness where the arrow would hit, hoping it would land on the center of the wooden target. But alas, it missed the middle by a tiny bit, causing you to let out a sigh of disappointment and frustration, though it was fortunate you managed to hit the target at all since the powerful winds often messed with the flight of any arrow. Still, your ambitious side wanted to hit the bullseye more than anything, so you grabbed another arrow, ready to try again.

“Don’t even try it. You won’t even come close to hitting that target,” Revali said behind you. For a moment, in the midst of intense focus, you had completely forgotten his presence.

After the conversation with Mipha, approaching Revali had become slightly easier. You could talk to him without the constant feeling of envy or sadness, though it did partially enter your being every time your eyes caught a glimpse of teal-colored feathers. You couldn’t be mad at Nika, she hadn’t done anything wrong, so you tried your best to remain calm and friendly whenever she was around, but oh boy, was it difficult.

You lowered your bow and looked at him after rolling your eyes.

“Thanks for the encouragement.”

Turning away from him and facing the target once again, you were about to continue your attempt. Only to get interrupted once again.

“Well if you insist on shooting with an incorrect stance, don’t let me stop you.” In the middle of his sentence, you fired again, but this time didn’t look at where the arrow landed and instead turned towards him again, his words catching you off guard.

“Stance? What do you mean?”

Your brows frown at him, confusion painting itself on a canvas that was your face. He lets out a sigh and walks beside you, taking out his infamous Great Eagle Bow and drawing it.

One of your frowning brows raises up as you watch him, noting how inhumanly steady his grip was as he releases an arrow, which lands on the center of the target you had been attempting to conquer. He smirks at his small achievement and turns to you. How typical of him.

His words puzzled you. Despite the fact that they were coated in his usual sarcasm and arrogance, he had never sincerely given you such words of advice. Sure, he liked to bathe in the statements of fame he dedicated to himself, but hearing him actually providing his guidance was extremely peculiar. Strangely, it made you smile.

“The way you hold your bow is rather... Amateurish, to say the least.”

He placed his wings behind his back and kept his emerald eyes on you. His words had little effect on you and you found yourself lightly rolling your eyes at them as he continued:

“The reason as to why you keep missing is simply because your grip on your bow is unstable.” You glance at your hand that was still holding your weapon, the cold sensation caused by the low temperature tingling on your fingertips quite uncomfortably.

“Thank you for the advice, Revali,” you say as you draw your bow again, paying close attention to your grasp on the wooden material, making sure to keep your previously shaky hand under control. Your hand stays relatively steady and your confidence begins to bloom even under a sharp pair of emerald eyes.

Revali steps away from you, allowing you to finally release the arrow after taking a deep breath. It flies through the cold air and your eyes follow it anxiously, hoping that it would finally hit the center of the target that had been cleverly avoiding you for the past few hours. Your (E/C) eyes widen when the arrow hits the target, and this time, it had hit the place you had wanted. Immediately a smile creeps onto your face.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him say, just as you are about to release the arrow. You throw a brief glance at him before allowing your shoulders to relax slightly. This apparently isn’t enough for the Champion, however, as he approaches you, placing a single wing on one of your shoulders, immediately making your eyes widen a bit.

“The key to a successful shot with a bow is the right stance, which is not as simple as someone like you would think.”

His wing pushes your shoulder down slightly, which allows you to relax the muscles, and suddenly, the likelihood of you hitting the bullseye is increased.

Upon turning towards the navy blue Rito once more, your eyes catch an expression that seems to be a mixture of surprise and rare awe. A small smirk makes its way on your features as you look at him.

“Well? How do you like that?”

Your head tilts in the direction of the target that now had two arrows in the middle. Revali lets out a scoff and a laugh.

“I am mildly impressed. Hitting a still target on the ground is in no way a difficult task.”

You find yourself once again rolling your eyes at him as you know that what he says hides what he truly means. That’s the most important lesson you had learned when in his company.

“However,”

He takes a few steps towards you, his wings once more crossed behind his back. “You somehow managed to do it with that.”

His wing points at your bow, which immediately causes you to look at it, only to notice a crack on the wooden surface. “It’s... Broken?”

“Don’t tell me you expect me to oversee everything you do with a bow. If only your eyes were more perceptive, you may have been able to noti-”

“Indeed. I noticed from the moment you first attempted to shoot with it."

You lift your gaze to him.

“You knew it was broken from the start? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Confusion mixed with slight irritation coats your voice as you look at him, noticing him smirking once more as he turns his back to you, increasing the distance between you two as his talons sink into the shallow coat of snow.

His words that were coated in a condescending tone come to a halt when he feels something hitting his back rather harshly. A noise left his beak and he turns around, only to see you with your arms crossed, a mischievous grin stretching your lips, and a small area of snow that looked as if it was missing a piece. Revali’s eyebrows frowned as he swiped the remaining snow off his back, a slight wave of annoyance at the unexpected snowball flowing through him.

“I didn’t expect someone like you to act so utterly childishly.”

Your rolled your eyes, unwilling to let his words affect you, though they already had.

“Well, it was your childish blabbering that caused this in the first place. So technically, this is your own fault.”

Your smirk remains on your face as you purposely, and admittedly childishly, fire back at him.

“I was merely having fun.” You look at him and notice his expression change. It’s a change so microscopic you almost miss it, but something in his eyes indicate that the tone of the conversation was changing.

“At least I know how to have fun.” 

“What a ridiculous way to have fun.”

Revali walked past you, his wings once again behind his back. This time, his voice sounded different, a strange spike of anger in it that didn’t go unnoticed and certainly didn’t help the situation or ease your own growing pique.

“And you are saying I don’t?”

You crossed your arms. “Clearly not. Judging by your attitude.”

He scoffed mockingly. “I’ll have you know, I have plenty of ways to spend my time in a meaningful way, that do not involve childish games.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do! When you have someone like her in your life!”

The words that shot out of your mouth almost accidentally linger in the air and echo around the Flight Range, the harsh meaning behind them making Revali look at you, utter confusion and surprise twisting his feathery features. You blink a couple of times, your mind realizing what you had allowed to slip from your lips, and for a moment, you hope that he somehow hadn’t heard your words.

Revali looks at you, then at the ground, processing what he heard. It was true that he had noticed shifts and changed in his feelings the more time he spent with you. The times he would steal a glance at you, knowing it was in a way forbidden due to Nika. You were right, he did have a meaningful life with her, and that seemed to pain him the most. Revali noticed your expression and immediately understood that what you had said had plagued you and weighed on your being for a long time. Still, your words pierced him like a poisoned arrow. He loved Nika, but at the same time, his heart seemed to feel complete when he was in your presence.

“Revali... I...” The words of vindication and apology get stuck in your throat, unwilling to come out as if they know that there is no way to explain your sudden burst of emotion. You wanted to say you didn’t mean it, but that would have been a lie. Jealousy had twisted your mind little by little and you failed to push your feelings aside. You hung your head in defeat, understanding that there was little to do to save the situation. Your feelings were exposed and what would happen next was out of your hands.

After a grueling silence, the Rito finally spoke, his eyes holding a glow of sorrow and disappointment: “I’d better get going back. Back to-”

“Your beloved.” You finished his sentence as a heartbreaking indicator that you understood how much the teal-colored Rito meant to him. He glanced at you but quickly moved his emerald eyes away from your form as the mere sight of you was enough to claw at his insides. A nod was all he could offer as he prepared to leave. He crouched down and took off, leaving you in the midst of the snow that sprinkled around you.

Your eyes dampened with tears as the being you loved slipped away from reach, his saddened eyes not daring to look back as he flew towards the direction where the being he loved was, conflicted by his feelings he didn’t fully realize he had.

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 9

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art (so much Art...) 

Ironically (not ironic), I actually wrote part 10 before I came back and wrote this part. Let me say, this is a family heavy chapter. It’s a bit intense, but I hope you’ll be able to bear with me so we can get to the next one. Because homg... it’s worth it. Which you may see, based upon where I left this one off.

Read more of my ramblings on my MasterList above, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you’re there to support my unbridled insanity (#obsession). Check out all the artwork and related posts for these guys by clicking #Royal Flush. Like what you see? You can commission me for an art piece or story. Just shoot me a DM!

Thanks to everyone for all your support so far. Enjoy!

My spine itched to move, my fingers longed to twist and wring about themselves. But I sat still, letting the carriage bounce along around me. Staring out the window with as blank a face as I could muster. Externally, my features were fixed, my posture straight. Internally? I thought my heart might just burst. It beat hard and fast against my breast, slamming into my ribcage with a reckless abandon that belittled its delicacy. My stomach turned and flipped in knots. I was grateful for my darker complexion at that moment. It meant that nobody could quite tell how sick I was feeling. Save for those who already knew the various shades of my complexion, of course, and those who shared it.

 I chanced a glance at Grier, sitting across from me in the carriage. I wondered if he noticed the change; he hadn’t known me long. Though I supposed he had seen quite the fair variety of the shades my skin could become, based upon how much he seemed to enjoy getting me flustered. I pondered for a moment if I would recognize his skin if he flushed or paled. I wondered if he had already in the past, but I simply could not tell, as his particular shade of green was foreign enough to befuddle my senses. Would he turn red when embarrassed, as persons of a fairer complexion did? Or perhaps his color would darken, as mine did? I amused myself with the thought that perhaps he would turn an entirely different color. Purple would look quite fetching on him, I thought.

It was the first time we had really seen each other since the previous morning, and he was watching me. I could feel his eyes on me, for the entirety of the ride. More than once he had tried to pull me into a conversation, but when I would only give short, polite answers, he eventually gave up. Leaving us in the awkward silence we sat in now. I didn’t mind overly, staring out the window as the countryside passed by. Each mile ticking by like a year of my life; even though we moved much faster than any normal carriage. What should have taken us nearly two days now took less than half of one. We had left before the sun had crested the horizon, and expected to be at the Kingdom walls by noon at the latest. Grier assured me we were moving a little slower than normal, as we had a large contingency of goblins in tow. I wasn’t sure if I preferred the speed, or would have rather lingered in the journey. I dreaded this day more than I could ever hope to fully acknowledge. 

Perhaps the King had sensed that, and let me wallow rather than pressing too hard for my attention, despite the fact that I knew he wanted to. Despite the fact that our last interaction had been set in a completely different tone... His expressions ranged wild and free on his sharp features; from his own much more subdued anxiousness, to a soft anger at the corners of his eyes, then to a strange somberness which seemed to thicken his already prominent brow, then again to worry, followed by a distant, glazed over look… I worried what the court would think of this ‘radical’ display. Not to mention his choice of attire. A ruffled cream shirt tucked into high waisted black trousers with tiny golden embroidery. Topped off by a flowing coat of silken pink and blue squares that he wore draped across his shoulders and clasped at his neck with a gold chain rather than with his arms through the sleeves. Relatively conservative by his standards, I supposed, but outlandish by my Kingdom’s. I worked out a lump in my throat with a small swallow as the walls loomed over our heads.

We slowed as we entered the lower city in order to disperse the goblins to their duties as per our discussions and plans with the Masters. Something was off though. The people cowered and quivered in the shadows of their homes. Looking out with surprise and suspicion as Damjan ordered his contingent about in abrupt goblinese. I resisted the urge to sigh. This was not off to a great start… I noticed there seemed to be a prominent lack of city guards. And I doubted it was an oversight. A soft shout of alarm had me craning my neck about to look almost behind us. The goblins were beginning to set up a station, including a tent, where they could have the citizens line up to be treated or warded. But the magic utilized in the process had already set the citizens on edge, and they were beginning to gather in the streets in even larger numbers, like moths to a flame. Pouring out of their abodes and whispering in anxious, hushed tones. I gritted my teeth, glancing at Grier. His own brow was furrowed. Why had Valerianus not readied the people, as he had promised? Surely they would then know why the goblins were here. Surely an order would have already been established. This felt more like panic and confusion. One that threatened to tip over into aggression...

Another shout had my next decision made for me, and I moved for the door before I could second guess it. Grier started to say something, but the door was already open by the time he did, and I stepped out into the streets. A rippling murmur spread through the crowd as I emerged, straightening to my full height and looking around. I stiffened my spine, considering the gathered as I stepped around the horses at the front of the carriage. Very aware of at least a hundred sets of eyes following me.

“Excuse me, good sir.” I called out to one of the more well-dressed members (though by this I merely meant that his clothes had less holes and stains than his fellows). His eyes went wide with recognition, and him and the immediate surrounding members of the crowd quickly dropped into a bow. The rest of the gathered began to follow suit. I took heart in that, and walked over to him. “Rise, sir, I would speak with you if I may.”

“B-beggin’ yer pardon, yer Princeliness… sir…” Mumbled the man, straightening slightly. An unnatural hush had fallen over the crowd. “How can I be of service, my Lord?”

“I am looking for someone in charge.” I started, and I saw his eyes dart up to me in surprise. I almost sighed; yes, of course, I was someone in charge. “... An elder. Your elected official.” I clarified. “Someone to speak for you.”

“Ah… I supposin’ that would be me then, my Lord.” He replied, dipping his head low.

“Excellent.” I nodded to him. “May I have your name, good sir?”

He stammered a few times uselessly first. “I am Jeb, my Lord, if it be pleasin’ ya.”

“Mister Jeb,” I returned, then glanced about at the gathering, “Word was sent to us of the outbreak here in the lower city. Where are the sick being housed?”

Eyes widened at that, and a soft murmur whipped like a chilly breeze through the crowd. The townsman's eyes also stretched, then filled with a wariness, and I saw them flick over my shoulder. I could hear the soft click of boots on stone behind me and didn’t have to stretch my imagination far to figure out who approached. Jeb’s eyes flicked back to me anxiously.

“Ah… We are keepin’ the worst in the main temple, My Lord…”

I nodded. “Thank you, Mister Jeb. Would you be so kind as to escort the goblin Masters there to see to them?”

There was a stiff silence again, and I saw the man glance about nervously. He was rather young still, though certainly older than me. I could see lines into the corners of his face and flecks of silver in his greasy black hair. But his eyes were bright, and his back unbowed. I guessed he was perhaps at most a decade or two my senior.

“Beggin yer pardon, my Prince… sir…” He hesitated, glancing around, “... What are yer… Masters… to be doing with them?”

I heard Grier scoff lightly behind me and there was a sharp intake of breath from the gathered. “Why, using their magic to heal them, of course!” He exclaimed, coming to stand at my side. “Whatever else would we be doing??”

Another murmur passed through the crowd, louder this time. Jeb’s eyes shot from me to Grier, then back again. I turned, bowing slightly in deference to the goblin.

“Beggin’ yer pardon again, Master Goblin.. Sir,” He mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “But… there was rumor havin’ that our King planned to…” He dropped off, but the stiffening of his spine suggested to me a far less tasteful solution to the spread of the disease. Anger flashed through me at the understanding, though I hid it well. “We werena expectin’... ah… yerself…”

As he dropped off, obviously at a loss as to whom he was addressing, I bowed my head to Grier lightly again. “Allow me to present his Majesty, King Grier, of the goblin Kingdom.” I announced, loudly enough for the gathered to hear.

Jeb dropped to his knee, quick as a wink, which had the goblin starting slightly in astonishment. A gasp swept through the gathered now, and many followed the townsman’s lead and dropped to their knees as well. As was to be expected for a king’s presence. Murmurs and whispers were quickly filling the spaces between bodies, and only the choppy cough here and there broke the hiss.

Grier waved his hand, scoffing again. “Enough of that, there is no need.” He shot me a glance, as if irritated I had blown his cover. I dipped my head, but said nothing. Keeping my expression flat. He turned back to the townsman, who was slowly rising back to his feet nervously. “Sir Jeb, kindly assist my men in organizing, yes? We shall have a tent here for those able to walk to it.” He gestured to the one being set. “For those too unwell, they shall go with you or whomever you appoint to this temple you speak of.”

“Y-yes sir,... I mean, Yer Majesty… sir.” Jeb stammered, scrunching his hat between his hands and bowing excitedly. “We are most thankful, my Lords, most thankful!”

“Mister Jeb,” I put in, calling the man’s attention back to me, “Where are the city guards? Why have they left their posts?”

He shuffled anxiously. “... They wit’drew, my Lord. When the first of us fell sick…” He bowed his head, glancing out the corner of his eye warily. As if someone might be listening in. “The King recalled all of them… and closed the castle gates. To lessen the spread, they say.”

I stiffened, and my lips pursed into a tight line. Again, the rage rippled through me, but luckily Grier did not hesitate in light of this new information. He smiled widely, and Jeb twitched in surprise at the sight of his sharp teeth.

“Well, luckily we have no intention of doing the same,” He exclaimed, his voice light, “But I assure you, good sir, it will be addressed. After we heal the sick and ward everyone else for protection from the illness. But let us not delay a moment more in this, yes?”

The murmurs around us were quickly growing higher pitched, which I took as a positive. Excited and rushed, rather than low and angry. I glanced around the crowd as Jeb gestured a few people forward. Grier did the same, beckoning over some of the Masters to begin the organization. I lost track of their deliberations, looking beyond the roofs of the lower city to the high walls of the castle beyond. The feeling of dread returned to me, mixed with my anger, and despite the pristine white of the stone… the palace looked far darker than it should in the bright morning sunlight.

“Es’cuse me, Prince sir,” Came a small voice, and I turned, pulled abruptly from my ruminations. A small child stood before me, one thumb in their mouth, so covered in filth and grease I couldn’t quite tell if it was a boy or a girl. They were all skin and bones, and looked up at me with wide, bright green eyes. Our interaction was all but lost in the bustle as the humans and goblins finally began proper organization and preparation.

I dropped down to one knee before them, careful not to let my clean trousers touch the dirt road. But coming to their eye level. “May I help you, little one?” I asked softly.

Their eyes went wide with surprise, and they chewed on their thumb nervously. I guessed they must be about 6 or 7, though I supposed with malnutrition they could have been a fair bit older. It pained my heart to see them so, and I made a mental note to speak with whomever was in charge of the lower city now. Poverty, as evident before me was… unacceptable, to any degree.

“... Beggin’ yer pardon,” They mumbled around their thumb, glancing down at the road nervously, “But are ya Prince Niko… Nikostrant… Nikostrawsus… sir?”

I nodded curtly. “Yes, I am indeed.” I didn’t bother correcting their mispronunciation. My head tilted to the side slightly. “Is there something you need?”

“They be sayin’ yer the one who ended the war, sir…” They explained. “... They be sayin’ ya live with the goblins now, n’ we dun have ta fight them no mores, sir… is that true, sir?”

A few of the townspeople had slowed, and were gathering about us with quiet but curious stares. I nodded again, ignoring the eyes watching us.

“I suppose that is true. Though it was hardly-”

I started as the child launched themselves at me. Suddenly wrapping their grimy little arms as far around my neck as they would go. A loud wave of surprise rippled through the crowd, and I saw a hunched old woman rushing forward, looking panicked.

“Forgiveness, my Lord!” She cried, bowing repeatedly and reaching out as if to pry the child from my neck. “She’s but a babe still, she not be knowin’-”

I raised a hand, silencing her. Then used it to pat the little child’s back lightly. The crowd released a uniform breath of surprise and relief. A fresh murmur rippled through their ranks. The child leaned back after a moment, her eyes bright with awe, and bared spotty teeth at me in a delighted grin.

“Thank ye, my Prince.. Sir,” She told me, her voice soft and shy, “My pa’s home now, thanks to ya. I missed him much, and he be sayin’ yer why he’s back.”

A wave of something strange washed through me, and a quick glance around had me discovering the same mix of awe and gratefulness on all the gathered townspeople as the child held in volumes in her glittering eyes. The older women came forward a few steps, giving me a shy, polite smile. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth, turning back to the little girl. I reached out, tucking a strand of her messy hair behind one ear.

“You have nothing to thank me for, my Lady. It is your father who deserves the praise, for serving his Kingdom,” I assured her, “It was my duty and honor as your Prince to forge this Treaty for Peace.” I sensed hers weren’t the only ears listening intently, and increased my volume for the benefit of the other observers. “For too long have our two Kingdoms been at odds. But no more, I can promise you that. Now, we can work together. For the good of both humans and goblins alike.”

It felt overly formal, and very cliched. But a hearty murmur of excitement and approval spread through the gathered crowd like wildfire, and I even heard a few soft cheers. I patted the girl on the head once more, then slowly rose as she retreated back to the skirts of the older woman. The woman bowed to me deeply, as did the rest of the gathered people. I tucked my hands neatly in the small of my back, and turned as I heard Grier come up beside me. He grinned toothily up at me, and I felt my heart skip.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He teased lightly, glancing over at the little girl. She stared at him, eyes full of curiosity. My heart softened as I remembered another pair of very similar eyes, and I chanced a peek at the castle beyond again. “Apologies, my Lady, but if I might steal the Prince?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I know he is quite charming company, but I am afraid we are due at the palace. I would be sorely pressed if I arrived without him on my arm.”

The small child giggled, then nodded shyly. I saw the old woman considering the goblin. Not quite warily, but neither with the open eagerness of her ward. Still, it was a good start for a people who had spent the last decade in fear of the goblins. When she felt my eyes on her, she bowed her head. I nodded, then turned back to the girl.

“Send my gratitude to your father for his service, if you would, my Lady.” I told her. “And my sincerest welcome home. May his days be long and full of blessings.”

Grier led the way back to the carriage, amid a completely different atmosphere than that we had arrived in. The people cheered and waved as we climbed back in, and the King offered a small returning wave before closing the door behind us. He settled back into his seat, still grinning like a fool. I considered him as I sat on to my own padded bench, carefully brushing the dirt off my hands and knees and straightening my vest.

“Oh come now, you must be pleased,” He pressed, “You are being welcomed home a hero! Your people are grateful to you for what you have done!” I glanced at him again, and his grin grew. “Surely that must set your heart at ease.”

I turned my attention to the window, hearing the muffled sounds of the people as we passed them by. Damjan’s mount clopped past my view as he moved back to the front of the caravan to the castle. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth. Feeling far too numb to fully register anything but the dark looming shape of a place I had once called home. I watched the walls climb up, up, up as we drew ever closer.

“The welcome will not be quite so universal.” I told him dryly.

I saw his brow scrunch, and he followed my eyes to the castle. A scowl skittered across his lips, and he shifted in his seat. I could sense his hesitation; the preliminary to something more he wished to say. I waited for it quietly, my stomach still flipping in my abdomen.

“Nikostratus…” He started, and I stiffened slightly in anticipation, “... Whatever might happen… I want you to know something…”

When he dropped off, I steeled my nerve and turned to look at him. His scarlet eyes currently held the delicate duality of ferocity and gentile, and I was instantly thrown by the strength of their warmth. So lost in their depth, I almost forgot to jump as his hand came out and rested upon mine on my knee. Almost.

“... I want you to know how much I like you, and how happy you make me. Just the way you are...” He breathed. “And I am here not for the sake of this Treaty, nor, most especially, for that weasel you call a King… I am here for you. For you, and for no one else.”

I let his words filter slowly through my mind, turning each over. But I kept my mask carefully in place. I saw him searching it carefully, and knew he found nothing from the disappointment that filled his. He took up my hand, almost desperately, and I saw something like a plea in those scarlet eyes of his. But I winced as the pads of our fingers touched, and I saw the plea replaced by a flash of pain.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Your-...” I stopped myself, seeing him flinch at my words. I chewed my tongue for half a moment before continuing. “... King Grier... But you are a good person. A good King. You would not stand by and allow innocent people to suffer when you have the ability to help them.” My confidence wavered, and I dropped my eyes. The only break in my defenses I allowed. Staring at his hand wrapped around mine. “... It is an honorable trait.”

He moved his thumb across my knuckles, and I somehow stiffened even more. “Yes, perhaps you are right… But I would not be here, as I am now. This,” He gestured to the carriage and fanfare and armed guards surrounding us, “Is not for the sake of innocent, suffering people. This,” He curled his fingers between mine, giving a gentle squeeze, “... This is for you.”

For my suffering, I added silently. My lips tightened, and I swallowed the hurtful response that came to sit on my tongue. This was not for me. He was here because he had deigned to invite himself, and by extension, was forcing me to face things I had left buried for a long time. And had buried for good reason. I carefully pulled my hand from his, and glanced back out the window. We were approaching the main castle gate, and I couldn’t think for the pounding of my heart in my ears. But when I looked back at Grier… he was confused. He was hurt… and I felt a stab of guilt for having caused that… as I’m sure he did for having unintentionally caused me such pain, even though I didn’t show it as he did. I knew it had not been his intent. I would have sighed, had I breath in my lungs to spare. I flicked my eyes to the rocking floor beneath our feet, opening my mouth. It stayed that way for a moment, then I closed it again.

I saw him shift, heard the muffled sounds of the shouts and announcements outside. A pause, then the heavy sound of the gate opening. I was running out of time, and my heart alternated between ramming against my chest at an alarming rate and skidding to a dead stop for several breaths. I gritted my teeth, chiseling the stone into place on my features. Preparing myself. But Grier… I glanced at him again. Grier was not prepared. Nothing could prepare him for this, I knew. Not without a lifetime of… what I had endured. I ran my hands down my legs slowly. I still needed to try.

My head shook, forcing it clear. “... Th-this…” I closed my eyes, steadying my focus. If I couldn’t speak to Grier, how could I hope to face the court? I reasoned. I tried again. “... This will be… very hard.” I told him, and realized my voice sounded nearly as weak as I felt. “And…” I dropped off again, then forced as deep a breath as my constricted chest would allow. “And I will need to be… someone else for it.” I almost winced, but I had chiseled myself into stone too well, and there was not a molecule of flesh left to do so. “... I need to… Grier…” I almost whispered his name, as though afraid of speaking it. “... to protect myself…” I glanced up at him, and could almost hear the click as the last of my composure snapped into place. “To protect you.”

My determination to do so drained the last of emotion and individuality from me. Hid me behind stone and hardened clay and a wall so high I couldn’t see the tops. I prayed that my words would be enough to soothe the goblin for whatever might come next. Somewhere deep down, in a spot I buried for when it was safe again, I worried. I worried that I might not be able to break that wall down when this was all over… If it ever would be over... But for now, it was necessary. And I straightened, looking away from the King as the carriage came to a halt. I couldn’t bear to try and read his expression. The door opened, and we stepped out into the main courtyard…

...

We were ushered down the main hall, then to the smaller audience chamber. My rage flared at this; as a visiting royal, Grier should be greeted in the main throne room. It was a barely concealed insult that my father would meet with him here. But then, I reasoned, perhaps he could excuse it to the staunch traditionalist Court, as it was not by his invitation that the goblin was here.

I stayed a pace behind the King in question as we were announced and led into the chamber. As was my place in the eyes of the human court, not only as secondborn, but also as… dare I even think it in this context, but as Grier’s betrothed. I kept my eyes straight in front of me, my head high and my shoulders squared as we entered. I did not look about, and registered the room from my peripherals. A few of the more prominent members of Court lined the walls, with the center aisle clear straight to the small throne at the end of the room. Valerianus stood to one side, and Gareth, to my dismay, to the other (though further back out of respect for my brother). I noticed my sister amid the pillars towards the back, and saw her face light up at the sight of me. I was grateful for once that Gareth caught her shoulder as she moved to pass him, keeping her in place. Despite his reasoning for doing so and the disdain I could almost feel wafting off him in waves. Despite my own contempt to have to see him once more. As if my return was not difficult enough without his disapproving eyes. Yet I was grateful, if only for a breath. I was not sure I could manage my sister at that moment, with my nerves taut and close to breaking. I could not allow myself to crumble, for any reason. And now my breath hitched at the site I had long dreaded. Sitting there, his back stiff, a scowl barely hidden in his stoney mask.

My father was not a small man. Not by any means. He was at least my height, though I had always thought him taller, with equally broad shoulders. My brother had inherited his square jaw, blonde hair, and fair skin, though my father’s complexion was more worn with his nearing 70 years. The edges were cracked and frayed, and his once proud cheeks had become shallow and gaunt. I decided he looked like parchment then, and about as lifeless, staring at us with hazel brown eyes (the mirror of my own) concealing the contempt I knew he must feel. His hand was forced here; he had not invited Grier to the palace, nor asked his aid. But he could neither deny it, now that it had been given. A lifetime of experience told me he was furious, though an outsider looking at him might only see another stone statue. 

I wondered what the room must look like to the goblin King. An audience hall of statues, staring at him. The one bright, and colorful life amid a garden of stone. I would imagine it was unnerving, knowing what I did of the goblin court and general lifestyle. But to his credit, Grier didn’t flinch. Despite his diminutive height, he strode proudly into the room, head high, sharp featured face fierce. His head turned as he took in the room, as a predator surveys the herd, and one slender brow cocked. I saw a few skilled nobles twitch as his scarlet eyes ran over them. Damjan and a few more armed guards stood behind us, and the tension in the room was palpable. Grier stopped before the throne, considering my father with an unabashed appraisal.

I saw my father’s eyes flick up and down my companion’s attire, saw the slightest twitch of disapproval at the corner of his mouth. I felt a familiar anger rolling about in my gut, but carefully tempered it. Neither spoke for a long moment, nor did anyone else. It was not our place. There were two Kings to be reckoned with here, and no one would dare step out of line. The goblin guard had been well briefed in the need for their silence prior to our arrival, and they too held still under scrutiny. My spine itched, but I stood still, keeping my gaze trained forward at some distant place.

“Welcome to my home, King Goblin.” Came the greeting from my father finally, breaking the silence. The anger in my gut burned hotter at his refusal to use Grier’s name. I had no doubt he hadn’t even bothered to remember it, if he had ever cared to hear it. His voice was flat, and thin. He did not speak loudly, for he was King. If he was speaking, all others should be silent. There was no doubt in any listeners mind of that, just from his enunciation of that single line. 

Grier dipped his head politely, and I saw his lips twitch. “I thank you for your hospitality, King Human.”

I would have laughed under different circumstances, as the Court members all visibly flinched at the insulting address. Even though it was no more than a mirror of their own King’s. My father seemed unmoved, though he brought up one hand slightly, resting the fingers by his chin. Valerianus’ eyes flicked from him to Grier, and I saw the gears moving slowly behind them. I wondered briefly what kind of welcome he had found upon his return from requesting our aid. I couldn’t imagine it had been very pleasant. My father flicked his fingers at him, answering the unspoken request.

“Your Grace,” He stepped forward, bowing slightly to Grier, “May I present, His Majesty, King Tiburtius, of Geriveria.” Grier inclined his head, and I knew the introduction of my father’s name was not lost on him. I could almost picture the twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips, though with my gaze fixed ahead I couldn’t quite make out the majority of his face. “And, Your Majesty,” The whole court drew in a sharp breath as Valerianus turned, bowing to my father, “Might I present to you, King Grier, of the Goblin Kingdom.”

Oh, my father would not be happy. I found I was surprised to see my brother act so boldly. Introducing both Kings with equal respect and grace. He had handled it nearly flawlessly, from my perspective, and I was pleased that now my father would not have the excuse to forget Grier’s name in any future address. It was a bold statement, but also a great sign of respect for the goblin King from the Crown Prince.

Again, my father was the first to break the silence. “Prince Valerianus tells me you have come to lend your… magic to our people.” He spat the word with as much disdain as was allotted for by our paltry excuse for emotions.

Grier inclined his head again. “Indeed. I received word of the terrible sickness plaguing the citizens of our sister kingdom,” He intoned, his voice, in contrast to my father’s, illustrious and loud, “And of course could not sit idly by.” His head cocked to the side. “I do hope I have not overstepped our alliance?”

The Court shifted restlessly, though almost imperceptibly. My father ran his finger across his dry lips. “... Of course, your aid is always welcome. We are most grateful.” The words were forced by politeness and honor from Grier’s bold and direct question, but I could sense his rage with having to have spoken them at all.

“I am glad to hear. I might have been led to think otherwise, considering the manner in which we were greeted.” Grier continued, his point barely concealed. By court standards, he had brusquely called out my father for his lack of fanfare and preparation.

“My greatest apologies,” My father returned without pause, no stranger to such plays, though his eyes narrowed by a barely perceptible hair, “We were given very little advance notice of your intent.”

“Ah, yes.” The goblin replied, nodding in bemusement. “But of course. I suppose you would request at least a week’s notice prior to hosting a royal visit.” His brow cocked. “I’m sure your people would have kindly waited to die until the day was more suitable for you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath that hissed through the room, and the tension grew. I heard the rustling of armor as the goblins shifted behind us in response. I felt a chill run down my spine as my father’s eyes turned to me, his gaze colder than ice.

“Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect Nikostratus to inform you of proper human etiquette. I will forgive you such small slights of course.” He replied, as if graciously ignoring the insults Grier casually levied at him was quite magnanimous of him. “After all, based upon the current state of him, I can see he has forgotten himself. Hardly a worthy representative of our people.” I tried not to twitch beneath his scrutiny, and did not move from my gaze locked straight ahead. My father’s eyes flicked to my brother. “Though it seems we are in short supply of that recently.”

It was not lost on me that he neglected to use my title. I saw the uncomfortable shift of the Court, the eyes flicking about almost nervously. This was, after all, as public a display of humiliation as one could get. I remained steadfast, unwavering. I had not been addressed, and so could not speak out.

“On the contrary, good King.” Mused Grier, his returning tone icy. “It is only by the nature of your sons that I am here at all.” His scarlet eyes considered my father harshly, and without pretense. “Should it not be for them, and Prince Nikostratus specifically, I would have been more than happy to raze your paltry kingdom to the ground.”

The equivalent of an uproar overtook the room, the members of court shifting more visibly. And even a few gasps and hushed whispers spreading through their ranks. My father stood, moving to try and tower over Grier. I knew this tactic. I had faced it many times. If his words failed him, he would try to intimidate by his sheer size alone. And then he would use his considerable courtly experience to completely destroy his opponent’s reputation and authority... By any means. I saw the goblin’s eyes harden, flashing with contempt. It broke everything; every training, every etiquette and protocol I had ever had forcibly ingrained into me. But I knew what came next, and I would not allow it to befall the goblin.

I stepped forward. Lining myself up with Grier. Shoulder to shoulder. An absolute breach in decorum and honor. I was a Prince, and he a King. It was the greatest disrespect, but less to Grier, and more to my father. As it forced him to address not only the goblin, but myself. For we now stood level to each other. He would have to reprimand me. He would have to acknowledge me, as he had all but refused to do since we had entered. I saw my father’s eyes flash. And he turned his focus on me. I prepared myself for the onslaught I knew was coming.

“Stand down, Prince Nikostratus,” He told me, his voice cold, spitting out the title as if it were venom on his tongue, “And remember your place.”

As he had addressed me, I could turn my head to him. Meeting his gaze. Then I bowed slightly. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I intoned, my voice flat. But I did not step back.

“I shall not.” He all but growled. “You are-”

“My betrothed.” Grier interrupted, and again, a gasp ripped through the hall. I saw Gareth make a quick exit with Morgana out of the corner of my eye, disgust evident on his features. He had to practically drag her out. “And as such, stands my equal. A position above yours, I would think. Considering the size of my Kingdom compared to yours.” Grier continued without pause. That rocked my father back, and his unbalanced attention switched back to the goblin. “Would you levy such an insult against me as to deny my partner, and your own son, the respect and authority he is entitled to?”

His eyes flashed, but was met with matching tenacity in the goblin King’s eyes. He lost himself for a moment, and I saw his mask slip. “You would-”

“I am a man and a King of my word,” He interrupted again, and I knew he was not about to let go of the advantage he now held, “I have made a Treaty, through the union of our two houses. A contract that benefits both our Kingdoms, in no small part due to Prince Nikostratus tireless efforts to make and keep the peace.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, you have forgotten your own place.”

There was silence then, that cut into my eardrums like fire. I didn’t move, standing frozen in place at Grier’s side. My father’s mouth closed tight, and I saw him working to sort out the proper answer. It took him too long though, and I could see the weight of time dragging on him. I knew there was no right answer. Not one that he would ever allow himself to speak at least. But I also knew Grier was right. By all intents and purposes, my father had insulted him, and dishonored him. The goblin would be well within his rights to take his army and raze the human kingdom to the ground. No human with half a brain would be able to argue against his justification. Beyond that, I was certain my father was already well aware he was at a complete disadvantage should he decide to affirm the insult, for not only was the goblin army larger and stronger than our forces, but they were currently well entrenched into the city. And the castle. He could not afford to allow the insult to stand, and Grier had forced him to address it. As no human would ever have dared. Finally, he straightened, a cold storm settling across his stone-faced features.

Slowly, he tucked his hands behind his back. And I didn’t like the glint in his eyes. “Indubitably, King Grier. Allow me to offer a balm to this perceived slight.” He gestured one of the more prominent members of the court forward, who bowed repeatedly and anxiously. “Lord Tipp shall give you a proper tour of the castle, as our esteemed guest.” I stiffened, sensing his hand before he had even played it. His gaze flicked to me, still icy cold. “Since Prince Nikostratus is your equal, as you say, and already familiar with the castle, I am certain he shall be acceptable as a representative in your stead.”

Grier paused, considering this. To his credit, he did not flinch, but I knew my father had now forced his own hand. The goblin’s gaze flicked to me, and I could just see it out the corner of my eye. He would have to abandon me, or else retract his previous statement. Anything else would now be perceived as an insult from him. As my father’s attention turned back to the goblin, I allowed my eyes to flick to Grier at their corners. He watched me for a delayed moment, then gave a nod.

“Of course, King Tiburtius.” He returned, voice back to its previous airy lightness. “I would be pleased to see more of your home. And Prince Nikostratus will be more than able to handle our affairs as I do.” His eyebrow twitched up, and he glanced back at me. “I do hope he won’t mind indulging me so. Though I was certain he would wish to give the tour personally, as he is intimately familiar with the castle himself.”

I dipped my head politely. It was a paltry excuse, but absolutely viable, should I choose to take it. I realized he was asking me what I wanted, as best he could given the circumstances. Asking if I wanted him to stay, or if he should leave. It would not be a perfect cover, not an ideal excuse. It wouldn’t leave the best impression of us. But it was an option, and my heart skittered. Debating taking it. Feeling weak at the knees at the thought of being left on my own...

“I would not deny you your curiosity, Your Majesty,” I told him, slowly straightening and sealing my fate, “I am certain Lord Tipp will be an adequate guide. If it pleases you.”

“Good.” My father intoned before Grier could speak further. “Then it is settled.” He turned back to the court at large. “Lord Tipp will be able to show you the extent of our hospitality, which we have woefully neglected thus far. While I will speak with my sons. Alone.”

The court quickly and efficiently cleared behind Grier and his new host. I saw him shoot me a glance over his shoulder as my father turned and made his way back to his seat. I could give him nothing to soothe his conscience, but watched quietly as he and his small contingent of guards left. The sound of the door scraping shut sounded almost as sickening to my ears as a spine snapping. I turned slowly back to the throne as my father settled in it.

There was a long moment of silence that threatened to crush my nerve, but I held it resolutely in my breast alongside my pounding heart. Praying it was strong enough to endure whatever I was about to face.

“How long has it been, Nikostratus?” Came the flat, cold tones of my father finally. “A week? Two? Less than a month, I am certain.”

“Just over two weeks, Your Majesty.” I replied hollowly.

“And yet you stand before me, practically a savage.” He shook his head, running his hand across his chin. “Mannerless. Mud on your trousers and boots. I believe your top button of your shirt is even undone. Did you walk here?” He raised a hand, not allowing me a breath to answer. “And then you would disrespect me, in my own court? Seek to embarrass me in front of that… thing.”

I tightened my jaw, resisting the urge to lash out at him. “I did as you asked, Your Majesty. I brokered a peace between our Kingdoms. A fair and-”

“You have brokered a sham!” He snapped, though his cold voice barely raised at all. “This Treaty you sent? I have never seen anything so absolutely ridiculous in my life.” He scoffed. “A marriage?? Between a Prince and a King?? You must be joking.”

“Your Majesty, in goblin culture-”

“I do not care about goblin culture, you insolent cur.” He cut me off again, standing, glaring down at me, squaring his shoulders and all but spitting as he spoke. I instantly bowed my head, recoiling a step. “How dare you use the authority I granted you to follow your own lecherous pursuits.”

My gut roiled at his words, and I almost blanched. Instead, I secured my façade into harder shape, and cast my eyes to the ground. I could hear his disgust as plain as if he had spelled it out for me, and clenched my hands tightly behind my back to keep them from quivering.

“Your Majesty, the Treaty that Prince Nikostratus-” Valerianus began, and I was a little surprised at his intrusion.

“And you!” Our father spun on him, and he too recoiled. “I would expect this of your treacherous brother, but you? Going behind my back. Directly disobeying my orders. Inviting those wretched beasts into our Kingdom.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “The Gods have punished me with such disobedient and disgraceful sons.”

He settled back into his chair. We stayed with our heads bowed, staring at the ground. As we had many times before. My throat burned, and I blinked fervently. Our father let out a soft breath, not quite a sigh, rubbing at his chin with one hand. I almost winced again at the sound, as if he had moved to slap me.

“You, Nikostratus, will return with that… creature. As your last service to me, you will have him withdraw his fellows from our Kingdom. You hopefully have at least some honor left to complete that simple task.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And then I will never hear from you again.”

“The Treaty-”

“I will arm no men against him, for now, so long as he keeps his filth from my borders. And you will count that as a blessing.” He cut in. “But you will not ask for my aid. Nor anything else from me.” He ran his hand over his chin again. “Perhaps the one good to have come of this was saving the arrangement of Morgana’s betrothal to that creature. I have begun negotiations with King Namier of Valthaven, whose army is twice the size of ours, in exchange for her hand.”

My blood ran cold, rushing like ice through my veins. “King Namier is nearly 40. He already-”

“ENOUGH!” I was rocked back by the volume and force of his voice. It sent me spinning back into my childhood, and I resisted the urge to wince, my resolve crumbling. “The sole reason I don’t have your head on a pike and your entrails in my dungeon right now is because that ludicrous monster you have disgracefully attached yourself to has somehow amassed a force powerful enough to subdue our armed forces. And then Valerianus was fool enough to allow them into our city. But make no mistake,” He stood again, stepping down to tower over me, “You are dead to me, Nikostratus.” I felt a numbness spread through me at his words, and my jaw clenched. “You have already dishonored and disgraced me, now leave with what little dignity you have left. And take that filth with you. Immediately!”

“Father, the people of the lower city-”

“The people be damned!” He snapped, spinning back on my brother, who instantly bowed his head again in the face of his quiet, seething rage. “I would see every one of them dead before I allow such abhorrent, lecherous beasts to remain in my kingdom. Now, get out of my sight! Both of you!”

Something snapped in me, as the numbness started to spread through my chest. Something I could not name. Some force or power that curled around me and flamed the hot rage in my gut... And I did not move. I remained rooted in place, instead raising my head and gritting my teeth. Valerianus has started to shift as if to leave, his brow slightly furrowed. I squared my shoulders and spread my stance, and my brother paused at the sight of me. After a moment, our father seemed to realize neither of us had exited, and turned back on us, his brow becoming like thunder behind his mask.

“Leave.” He commanded. 

I straightened my back. “I will not.”

His eyes shot wide, breaking the fraying edges of his composure. “You have no authority-”

“As you have disowned me as your son,” I cut him off abruptly, my voice firm, “Then I stand before you, not as a Prince of your human court, but as future King of the goblin. And voice of their will.”

“You-”

“And as such,” I continued, ignoring him, “I am here to inform you that we will not be withdrawing from the Kingdom until every last citizen is treated or warded from this plague.” My voice was growing in volume with each word, each one more confident than the last. “Furthermore, should you attempt to act against any the terms of the Treaty, including refusal to admit the goblin kind into this Kingdom, we would be well within our rights to forcibly remove you from the throne and take it for ourselves.”

His mouth flapped uselessly, and I saw red growing in the apples of his pale cheeks. “... How… How dare-”

“The way I see it, Your Majesty, you have two choices,” I interrupted him again, my voice nearly quivering with my anger, but no less commanding, “You can accept this fact with some semblance of grace and dignity intact. Or,” I silenced his sputtering at my words again firmly, “You can attempt to publicly resist our efforts, and find instead the full might and force of the goblins dragging you kicking and screaming from your throne.”

I waited a breath, watching his eyes all but bulge from his skull. I could see Valerianus looking only slightly less perturbed than our father at the corners of my vision. Though his mask was much more securely fastened into place. But I ignored him other than this observation, focusing my fury on the man standing before me. As the King tried and failed to find a response, his face becoming more red by the minute, I glared down my nose at him. My shoulders squared, my confidence unrelenting.

When no reply seemed forthcoming, I broke the stony features of my face to cock one eyebrow up in a way that would have made Grier quite proud. “I will assume you choose the first option.” I mused. “But please do let me know if you decide on the latter. I would very much like to see it.”

With that, and a final farewell, I spun on heel with practiced military grace, and marched out of the room.

I walked with an almost giddy, light step. My breath shallow and huffy with adrenaline. I could hardly believe I had just done that. It felt like the memory of someone else, and my pulse raced with the excitement still coursing through me. But… by the gods did it feel good. I was out onto the raised walkway before the main courtyard when the quick click of boots alerted me to my pursuer. I turned, not sure who I was expecting to be there. And found it certainly wasn’t anyone I would have guessed.

“Prince Nikostratus,” My brother breathed, slowing before me, “A word, if you would be so kind.”

I quickly and carefully fixed my mask back into place, turning to face him fully. My heart sputtered in my chest, and I resisted the urge to swallow the lump that suddenly leapt into my throat. Had I forgotten something? Had I made some miscalculation? Perhaps this was a ploy, and attempt to delay me before I could inform the goblins of what had just happened. To distract me while the guard worked to mobilize. I wondered briefly if my father had sent him. My mind raced with the possibilities.

“You see what he is.” I blurted before I could stop myself. “... You see what he’s become.”

My brother hesitated, considering me for a moment, and the brusque nature of my words. Then, slowly, he nodded. “... Yes… I do.”

I straightened, composing myself again. “Then you understand why what I did was necessary, Prince Valerianus.”

Another pause, followed by another small, slow nod. “That is why I am here, Your Highness.” He hesitated again, then straightened his own spine and squared his shoulders properly. “I wanted to thank you.”

I stared at him, a little dumbfounded. I was grateful momentarily for the lifetime of perfecting the mask, so that even in the face of this surprise, it held. My silence, of course, was evidence enough to it. And he gestured towards the walkway, taking a step forward. Uncertain what else to do, I fell into step beside him, and we slowly walked the parapet.

“This is just one in a long line of transgressions I have unfortunately been party to.” He told me softly, and I saw him glance briefly to the side. “I cannot say much more, as you know as well as I that the castle has eyes and ears of its own. But…” He paused, dropping off. “You have done our people yet another selfless act, Prince Nikostratus. Even though you would have been completely justified in taking any other course of action.”

“I can do no less, Your Highness,” I replied, my tone back to the formal emotionless drone, “I may no longer be a Prince of this Kingdom in the eyes of its King, but they are still my people.” My voice became hard. “I will not allow them to suffer for his stubbornness and pride.”

“Another great service,” He replied, “For which I would like to offer you one in return.”

He stopped, turning to face me. I did the same, surprised but hiding it well. My brother looked me up and down, and I searched the edges of his mask with my trained perception. And yet I still couldn’t quite read what he intended.

“You have sacrificed everything,” He continued, his voice still soft, “Your home. Your future. Your…” I saw him hesitate, blinking slowly. I tried to wrestle with his meaning, but found myself wholly unable to discern it. “... I would like to correct this wrong. It was not your burden to take. We can find another path to peace with the goblins, Prince Nikostratus.”

It dawned on me slowly, and I shook my head. “You would have Morgana-” I started, my voice tight.

“If you think I am even capable of such a thought, then you do not know me at all.” He cut me off curtly. Then he paused. “... I am not our father, Nikostratus... And I have every wish to avoid that fate for myself.” He glanced down, belying his mask for a breath, then met my gaze firmly. “... I will find us another path to peace. You need not sacrifice yourself. I will do everything in my power to free you from your bonds. It is not too late. There has been no… ceremony.”

I looked at him, astonished. We stood in silence for a long moment, staring at each other… He didn’t know... He thought I was… I swallowed hard, realizing I would have to say more than I had ever been comfortable saying. A feat hard enough with someone familiar with the concept. Nearly impossible with one for whom the concept likely didn’t even exist. I tried to pick the right words. To come up with a response that would be as delicate as possible to his sensibilities. I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“I have given my word, Prince Valerianus.” I told him softly, but firmly. “I will not break it.” I started to open my mouth to say more, then slowly closed it. Hesitating. My heart racing in my breast. “... I am an adult. And have entered into this contract by my own free will, for the good of our Kingdom.” I stopped, hesitating again.

He considered me for a moment. Trying as I had to listen to the unspoken words between us. “Would it be… presumptuous of me to assume that perhaps this is… erm…” He shuffled, glancing down at our feet, a slight pink tinge rising to his cheeks. “... Not quite the same… ah... sacrifice I had initially thought, Your Highness?”

I felt my face flush, and quickly cleared my throat. Staring down at our feet as well. I stammered for a second, then managed to compose myself once more. “I-I...It would be…” I heaved a sigh, shaking my head slightly, “It would be a greater... sacrifice, on my part… t-to return things to how they were…”

I heard him swallow loudly. “... I see.”

I hesitated, then nodded resolutely. “I have found in this… Treaty… a freedom, Your Highness.” I slowly raised my gaze to him. “One I had never expected to find before, nor had ever hoped to pursue...” I swallowed nervously, and couldn’t resist a tiny shuffle of my feet. “The sacrifice, for me, is no different than any other arranged marriage.”

Valerianus studied my face again, and I hoped my flush wasn’t far too evident. But he nodded slowly. Then bowed his head. “Then I will honor your word as well, Prince Nikostratus.”

I bowed in return, and as we both straightened, I felt a strange weight lift from my shoulders. Only to be replaced by another.

“I would beg permission to ask another boon, Your Highness,” I told him as we stood face to face once more, “If you would grant it in light of my services.”

“Ask, Prince Nikostratus,” He replied, “And I will grant it if it is in my power.”

“... Let me take Morgana with me.” My brother froze at that, and I saw him glance quickly out the corners of his eyes again. I quickly rushed on. “You heard him. You know what he is planning for her…. She’s not safe here.”

Valerianus was quiet for a long moment, but he had been unable to mask the flash of pain at my words. We had many differences, my brother and I. But Morgana was not one of them. I knew he cared for her, in his own way. Their connection was not as powerful as mine and hers, yet his earlier words had given me hope that perhaps he might just wish for her the same future I did. Or at least one not so… repulsive. One with a chance of happiness.

I waited with my stomach flipping in knots. Waited with my breath caught in my throat and all my hopes on the line. I couldn’t even bear to think what would happen if he refused my request. And what lengths I would go to in order to assure he didn’t…

Finally, he nodded, slowly. “You are right… The Princess is not safe here. Not while our father…” He stopped, dropping off. Then nodded again. “It would be best if she was kept away from here. For a time, at least.”

I nearly collapsed with relief. With Valerianus’ aid, it could possibly be days until anyone of import noticed the Princess was missing. With his authority, all but the highest levels of court would be forced to look the other way. And even then, only our father had power above him. He gestured for us to continue our walk, and I fell into step beside him once more.

“You must let us ward you, Your Highness,” I told him as we walked, the tops of the pillars of the courtyard coming into view as we rounded the corner and came to the top of the stairs, “For the sake of our Kingdom’s future, I would beg you to consider you own safety.”

Valerianus nodded. “I will trust your judgement, on the matter, Prince Nikostratus.” He replied. “You have shown it to be quite sound.”

I could see Grier in the courtyard below, alone, and as soon as my eyes fell on him, my heart skipped several beats. I felt a warmth spreading through my chest, a longing unlike anything I had ever known before, and it left me in a haze of confusion with its unfamiliarity. I wanted nothing more to do with this palace I used to call home; I had never understood that word until now… And it wasn’t until I had returned that I realized it never had been a home to me. After everything that I had just endured, I wanted only to go down to the goblin King and leave. Preferably to never see this place again, and sooner rather than later. I had no strength for anything else.

“... Forgive me, Prince Nikostratus,” I nearly jumped at Valerianus’ voice, having momentarily forgotten that he was there, “... I thought at first it was a very elaborate ploy from the goblins. A spell, perhaps. Or a great strength of will on your part, for the sake of Morgana and our people.” I turned to face him properly, carefully squaring my shoulders with my back straight. “But I see now it’s more than that. You honestly... care for him. Don’t you?”

I faltered at his words, and blinked stupidly for a moment. Based upon the twitch at the corners of his lips, I assumed my mask had slipped momentarily. I quickly corrected the slight, leveling myself back into stone.

“My interest is wholly irrelevant for this contract. The arrangement of this marriage is for the sake of our Kingdom and people, Prince Valerianus,” I told him stiffly, careful to keep my voice flat, “For a much needed peace. I was beholden by my duty to our Kingdom to form this alliance, and we have already seen the benefits of the Treaty.”

“Of course, I do not doubt that in the least.” He agreed calmly, and took one elegant step forward to peer down at the courtyard as I had. “How fortunate then, Your Highness, that you have already grown quite fond of the man who will be your husband.” If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought his tone was teasing. My lips worked uselessly at the air for a moment, and the corners of his twitched again as my face flushed once more. “... I am happy for you.” He turned back to me. “Truly, brother, I am. He seems to be a good man. And an honorable King. I would be fortunate indeed to someday find myself to be half the King he is.”

It was only the lifetime of discipline that kept the shock from registering on my face. I didn’t answer him, uncertain how to. I couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to me so candidly, if he ever had. By the time I was old enough to remember our interactions, Valerianus was already a sullen teenager. Weighted with the responsibility of the crown. Hardly the mixture for a warm and affectionate older brother, especially in our family. Our eyes met for a long, quiet moment. And whatever tension lingered between us dissipated. I had no words to give him; nothing seemed appropriate in that moment. But they were unneeded. I felt my lips purse, and gave him a small nod. Which he returned, hands still clasped formally behind his back.

“I shall have the maid gather some things for the Princess quickly and bring them to your carriage, Prince Nikostratus.” He told me, then gave a shallow bow before spinning on heel to march off. “I shall task you with the nigh impossible feat of finding her.”

I nearly groaned, instead nodding to his retreating figure. Morgana could be any number of places by now. I knew the most likely, but that would take time. And time might not be something we had much of, if our father caught wind of our plans. Grier would help me, I declared to myself silently. And his men. We would have to work quickly, but for the first time in a long time, I had hope that things would turn out alright.

I spun back to descend the stairs to the courtyard, and was at the second ledge when a familiar sound came to my ears. It flooded my body with relief as I recognized my sister’s voice. But her words had me freezing in place.

“Excuse me…umm, sir goblin.”

A momentary pause, followed by a polite if hesitant; “Yes, My Lady?”

“I beg your pardon, but you are the King, yes?”

My heart skipped like a smooth stone across still waters. I eased down the last few steps, walking lightly to stand at the corner. Peering around it. Grier stood with his back to me, and Morgana before him with her hands on her hips. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but still had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. I started to round the corner, eager to tell both of them the good news and pleased they were in the same place. But curiosity stilled my feet, something about the determination set into her youthful face, and I lingered momentarily. Not quite hidden… that wouldn’t be very Princely. But they would have to look particularly hard to make me out behind the marble pillars...

“That I am.” I could hear the tiny smile in Grier’s voice. “... Can I be of service?”

“I demand an audience then, Your Majesty.” I almost groaned at her abruptness, and studied her little face for a moment. Intelligent and fierce…. I couldn’t deny it warmed my heart.

Grier hesitated again, but then offered her a small bow. “But of course, Princess. I am at your service… Shall we sit?”

...

UPDATE: Part Ten HERE

[healingchildhoodtrauma]

Sacrificing Authenticity for Attachment: The Adaptive Survival Responses of Children and Their Influence on Future Relationships

(Part 2)

Generations of projection and “normal”

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” ~ Carl Jung

As I’ve written about extensively in other articles (see here and here), what parents (and schoolteachers) cannot tolerate in children is often what they learned to suppress during their own childhood. What they denied within as an adaptive survival response they now “project” onto the young ones before them.

When they were children, our parents likely learned some combination of: “anger is inappropriate”; tears are a sign of weakness; “don’t be silly”; deny your dreams for “reality”; “grow up”; be “good”; do things “right”; “suck it up”; “be responsible”; please; prove; accommodate. They learned to survive at the cost of who they really were. They learned to survive because going back in time living was less about thriving and more about coping, getting by.

It’s safe to say that our parents, their parents, and so on, had to dim their vibrancy to please their primary attachment figures and satisfy family, institutional or cultural norms. The collective ethos would have had an aversion to people being a “tall poppy”—to standing out mentally, emotionally, physically or spiritually; to being unique, a trailblazer, a wildly imaginative soul—much more than today’s societal aversion. And so to cope and survive, our ancestors adapted, and they were rewarded for it. Parental and societal approval incentivized them with false ideas of belonging. And with most institutions, such as church, government and education, built largely on blind conformity and standardized compliance, it was difficult, if not impossible, for our ancestors to not take the bait. Unwittingly, they “sold their soul to the devil”—they became pleasers at the cost of their authentic feelings, needs, desires and voice. Attachment trumped authenticity. The relational aspect of fitting into society, of blending with the flock, the ethos of family, institution and culture, became the approved and “normal” way.

Despite advancements in consciousness, we still see plenty of evidence of this today. Just consider: How willingly do parents support their teenager’s unconventional, artistic dreams? How often do teachers follow a child’s lead? How much do we still expect children to bend to authority at home, school, church and elsewhere? How often do adults bristle at the sight of a kid being a tall, self-governing poppy?

Back to our ancestors, their adaptive survival response to obey and fit in, when acted upon enough, became a well-worn identity of pleaser. Coupled with approval from family, institution and culture, the need to please motivated our ancestors to achieve through, say, high marks in school, being “good”, or performing in sports or debate. It compelled them to acquiesce to traditions that they, on some level, knew were deeply flawed.

Pleasing, not standing out too much, and proving themselves as worthy, was forged into their neurology. As they grew older, this wiring manifested choices and lifestyles that reinforced their conditioning and the continued denial of their true nature even more. It was a vicious loop, one that fortified the longstanding collective ethos built on superficial ideas of belonging.

It’s worth wondering: how much of culture is just this—a collection of fear-based beliefs and adaptive survival identities trying to fit in? How much of our societal systems is a collective pathology based on unresolved survival responses?

How much do people actually know where their choices come from? Who is choosing? Their authentic self or the adaptation?

Aside from the rebellious ones, the rare thought-leaders, the trouble-makers or revolutionists, our ancestors mostly lived with an external locus of control—making sense of themselves and the world based on outer influences versus intrinsically defined thoughts and feelings (internal locus of control). Without a strong enough core of “inner rightness” or integrity, without the courage to stand tall and speak boldly as the likes of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Mark Twain did, they eventually would have succumbed to a hollowness inside that nothing could fill.

But because almost everyone was primarily oriented externally (and there was no internet or social media to show another way), they didn’t know any different. Add the fact that skillful healers, shamans, wise elders and therapists weren’t readily available back then, and our ancestors, sadly, had little choice but to acquiesce. They had to settle without knowing they were doing so; to endure through their anxiety and depression through the aid of work, drink, and other distractions. Surviving, just getting by, not thriving according to one’s inner compass, was the accepted norm.

Not surprisingly, based on research conducted by Julien Rotter in the late 1950s, we learned that when a child orients primarily with an external locus of control, it correlates to rising rates of depression and anxiety. How could it not? Years of self-disregard will do that to you.

Twenty or thirty years later, having grown up and with their own kids, our parents, to varying degrees, predictably struggled to offer safe space for us, as children, to make our own decisions and for our wide range of expression. Having grown up with an external locus of control, they expected us to define ourselves by external norms: to fit in; do what’s “right”; follow instead of lead; travel the path traveled by others; stay true to the known and expected; not stand out too much; don’t make the family look bad; make your parents proud… again, at the cost of authenticity.

If you got angry, and your parent learned to suppress and judge their own anger when young, without full awareness, they likely suppressed your red-hot energy through admonishments, judgment, punishments, or a cold, stern look. It would have been hard for them to see anger as a healthy emotion because they learned that it was bad, or even harmful. You then automatically oriented and adapted according to external pressures.

If you, as a child, dreamt of being a musician and your parent grew up learning to be a hardworking, practical, responsible individual, then they may have shunned your imagination. They might have expected you to live and work between the lines, not take risks. To choose the coal mine or accounting desk instead of the mic. Without a strong enough internal locus of control, you likely forwent your instinct, your authenticity.

If you felt a wave of sadness when young, and your parent grew up with the message that “tears are a sign of weakness”, then the impulse could likely have been to direct you towards “strength” and away from vulnerability. Your parent would not have seen the strength inherent in vulnerability. In fact, just like with anger and big dreams, your parent may have viewed your tears as a threat.

As the saying goes: “A parent tells a child to put on a coat so the parent feels warm.”

The impulse to orient a child externally and dim their wild fire is not a conscious choice by the parent, but an unconscious reaction. It is automatic. Though it may seem something they are doing from clear volition, they are, in most cases, re-enacting the past —which is what re-acting is—by projecting their disowned authenticity onto their children.

This is psychology 101, a process also known as “transference”: What the parent judges within, such as anger, imagination or sadness, they transfer onto the child. Unconsciously, they experience the child’s anger as a projection of their own disowned anger, rather than as the unique and natural experience of being human, let alone a bubbling child.

In other words, what we keep in the shadows internally we have a hard time seeing in the light externally. Considering how bright children shine in their physical, mental and emotional states, how unbridled they are in their expressions, it is no wonder that their exuberance is a threat to the locked-up, shadowed adult.

A child consistently projected onto, and controlled as a result, grows listening less to their heart and more to their brain—to thoughts of what they should do/be to make mommy, daddy or the teacher happy. They think more and feel less. This survival migration away from heart / somatic awareness to the calculating mind is a means of self-preservation and navigating through life. But it is a most profound loss to the full-bodied child that has significant ramifications on current and future health and wellbeing. The rootedness and instinctual aliveness of the feeling-body is suppressed for the predictability of rationality. The once natural inclination to be honest, as children so beautifully are, must hide. The natural impulse to trust themselves, what feels right, their internal locus of control, is denied for insecure attachment.

Years later, it’s no wonder it’s so hard to have intimate relationships, let alone navigate through life.

https://www.vincegowmon.com/sacrificing-authenticity-for-attachment/

[kaiunkaiku]

Sickdays 6, May 23rd: Red

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Summary: "Most of his hearing is taken up by the blood rushing in his ears, and his vision is clouded at best, but his other senses are working just fine – the taste of blood and bile in his mouth is familiar yet unbearable, the searing pain in his body is familiar yet similarly unbearable, and the stench of blood lingering everywhere is familiar and makes him want to puke again."

Warnings: Blood, vomit, injuries, hinted suicidal ideation bc it’s Dazai

Still Saturday in the States bitches.

Ao3

Chuuya pitches over the side of the bed and throws up another mouthful of blood. Most of it ends up in the bucket instead of the floor this time, but it’s not much of a relief – Dazai won’t be complaining as much, sure, but Dazai really isn’t complaining about much at the moment anyway. He can’t afford to, even if Chuuya is sure he’d love to, because Chuuya himself is the one throwing up blood and feeling like he’s going to spontaneously combust if he as much as sits up. His bones are on fire, his insides feel like they’ve liquified into nothing but blood, his joints are probably going to either snap or pulverize at any given moment, and he really, really fucking hates Corruption.

He can still feel the ghosts of the red markings on his skin, where it feels raw in a burn-like fashion even though the only thing visible is the bruising. He doesn’t know if his insides can be bruised, but they sure as hell feel like they are.

According to Dazai, he was under for nearly ten minutes, which is damn near the longest he’s ever used it for. He’s not entirely sure where he is, because while he is aware that it’s a safehouse, there’s nothing he can use to tell whether it’s a mafia safehouse, an ADA safehouse, or maybe one of Dazai’s personal ones. He hasn’t seen much beyond the small bedroom he’s in now, having been very much unconscious when arriving. He would like to have that unconsciousness back, now.

Dazai is talking on the phone just outside the room, clearly not caring whether Chuuya hears him or not. He does, though only barely and most of that, too, is too much for him to comprehend. He’s fairly sure he’s feverish, with the way he feels like he’s simultaneously burning and freezing, and with the nausea constantly surging through him.

Most of his hearing is taken up by the blood rushing in his ears, and his vision is clouded at best, but his other senses are working just fine – the taste of blood and bile in his mouth is familiar yet unbearable, the searing pain in his body is familiar yet similarly unbearable, and the stench of blood lingering everywhere is familiar and makes him want to puke again. There’s blood crusted in his hair. He knows he’s still bleeding internally, and he’s fairly sure he’s also bleeding externally, even if he can’t tell where. He almost wants to use For the Tainted Sorrow to force the blood back where it’s supposed to be, but just the thought of activating his power sends a wave of panic through him so fast his breath catches. The phantom markings on his skin feel like they’re sapping him of his control.

Chuuya opens his mouth, maybe to call for Dazai or maybe to just curse his fucking existence, but all that comes out is a choked noise, and then he’s hurling blood again. It feels like his lungs are drowning in it, and motherfucking fuck they just might be. His arms are shaking from the attempt to support him so he can throw up more blood in the general direction of the bucket. His vision is currently shit, though, eyes feeling like they have partially melted, so he can’t be held accountable if he misses it. He’s seeing blurred lines at best, and gray patches all around, and everything is twisting and swirling.

Hell. He might just be dying.

He leans back and tries to focus on breathing. The rattling in his lungs is audible, and even if it wasn’t, he can feel the air crackling in his throat. He feels heavy, in a way he usually only feels when Dazai is touching him, and so often it’s a pleasant feeling; now, though, it feels like it’s crushing his chest. He doesn’t think he’s getting enough oxygen. He’s too tired to panic about it, but he sure as hell isn’t tired enough to be pissed about it.

The details of what happened are hazy at best, but Chuuya is blaming Dazai anyway. The fucker most definitely had the chance to stop Corruption well before almost ten minutes, so Chuuya’s current state of being little more than a pained sack of blood is most definitely Dazai’s fault.

When it comes down to it, most shitty things in Chuuya’s life are.

He blacks out for a moment, or at least he thinks he does, because he blinks and suddenly Dazai is standing next to him, stupid bandages ragged and blood in his hair, and Chuuya can’t decide whether it’s startling or comforting to see him instead of just hearing his voice through the doorway. He likes seeing Dazai, though, even if he is pissed at him – at least the bastard is still here. Hasn’t left him behind this time.

It’s depressing that this is his life now. That after all these years he’s still in love with Dazai, who may or may not fuck right off without notice anytime and leave him with his dysfunctional Ability that could kill Chuuya without him.

There must be something in his eyes, or on his face, because Dazai gives him this little smile that made Chuuya accidentally destroy entire buildings as a teenager, and still makes something flutter pleasantly in his chest. Something presses against his hand and it takes him a moment to figure out that Dazai has taken it and is rubbing his thumb on his knuckles.

“Yosano-sensei will be here soon,” Dazai says, free hand absently moving to fiddle with Chuuya’s hair.

If that’s the case, and Chuuya can’t really see a reason for Dazai to lie even if he’s always searching for one, it must be an ADA safehouse, then. Dazai wouldn’t compromise his personal ones like that, and having two ADA members, both of whom Mori wants for himself, at a Port Mafia safehouse wouldn’t be very smart, or, well, safe.

“So try not to die before that, okay?” There’s an irritating, cheerful quality to his voice, but Chuuya knows it’s a cover, a lie, so he leaves it be. He turns his head so that Dazai’s hand shifts to his cheek.

“I’m pretty sure I’m actively bleeding out, you shitty mackerel.” It’s remarkable how little he feels about that fact; mild annoyance, at most. It’s not like he wants to die – he’s not Dazai – but death’s door is a familiar place, and he’s been aware for a long time now that one of these days he’s going to step over the threshold. He accepted that the day he first used Corruption voluntarily.

Dazai says nothing to that. His thumb comes to stroke Chuuya’s cheekbone, and he doesn’t jostle Chuuya awake when Chuuya dozes off.

When he comes to, there are two voices just outside the room, Dazai and a woman Chuuya faintly recognizes as Yosano Akiko. Dazai is explaining and Yosano is asking questions, so they’re either talking about him or talking about work.

Chuuya tastes blood in his mouth.

Yosano Akiko is an intimidating woman, even to someone who has trained under Ozaki Kouyou. She’s taller than Chuuya (a lot of people are, yes, he knows), and exudes an air of cold professionalism with a hint of sadism – all qualities Chuuya is familiar with, but her unique blend of them commands such attention and respect even before she walks in that all Chuuya can do once she does is stare and nod at her even if the motion pulls at something unpleasant in his neck.

She wastes no time, barely bothering to explain her Ability to him, and then he’s not bleeding anymore. He still feels like shit, though, because her Ability fixes injuries and nothing but injuries, so the phantom markings on his skin stay, and the bone-deep exhaustion that Corruption leaves him with doesn’t go anywhere. Just the injuries.

So at least he’s not dying today.

“You owe me a favor for this,” she says, already packing her things. “One each.” Dazai looks like he’s about to protest, makes an indignant squawk but nothing more.

“Sure,” Chuuya replies, a beat late. He does own his life to her, after all, so no point trying to deny a favor.

(He owes his life to a lot of people. He tries not to think about that.)

Now that he’s not choking on blood anymore, the exhaustion is claiming him fast. He tries to fight it, but he can’t pay attention to the instructions Yosano is giving Dazai when there’s no sharp pain keeping him alert.

God knows why, but he trusts Dazai; has trusted him for the past eight years, even the four filled with uncertainty and anger. So he lets himself drift off to the sound of Dazai’s voice and trusts that it’s safe to do so.

There’s a soft brush against his forehead and No Longer Human surges through him.

Yeah.

Safe.

[scionofchaos]

Withstanding Suffering

Today, I would like to talk to you about a practice I have spoken of once before. In our lives, we have to endure great hardship in order to make ends meet. The more strain your physical body is under, the more this is reflected in your Consciousness, your memory, and your ongoing thought life. I cannot teach you how to regenerate, or how to become invulnerable, but I can teach you how to withstand suffering.

It is easy to look at a physical ordeal as being an entirely physical matter, but the truth is that your body will quickly recover. Human bodies are extraordinarily resilient; they hurt in the moment, but only to tell you that you need to relax and recover. Once given ample opportunity, your body will do exactly that (barring some existing condition that makes it harder for you to recover). The real harm is non-physical. When you are uncomfortable or in pain, you fixate on the feeling. When your mind can't handle that anymore, it finds something else to gripe about, as a way of deflecting the pain onto something else. Maybe a sound that you presently find annoying, or a flashing light that irritates your eyes. Maybe you find that you don't like the way someone dresses, or the way they talk.

Now, because of your own suffering, you feel inclined to make others feel worse, and make other people change your environment to appease your senses. If this is allowed to continue, your mind has nowhere to retreat but into itself. Nothing more can be changed externally, so the changes must occur internally. Your mind will sit and burn its limited resources on changing its shape, changing its behavior, into something that feels the pain less. When it cuts itself off enough, you will lose that sense of togetherness with other living beings, lose your spiritual awareness. Soon your expulsion of harmful behaviors will become so dense that no one can reach you. Their pleas to help you, to comfort you, or break you out of this rut, will only reach the malicious shell of a person you've created. Once a being reaches that point, they are not savable; the only thing that can change is the construct of negative Karma they created external to themselves. It will take a powerful transformation to bring them around and help them to see the light.

Any experience that is causing you physical discomfort or pain can be broken down into parts. There is a part that has to do with your body itself, maybe an injury or just general wear and tear. That is not something you can do anything about during the experience; wait until you have time to relax and recover, and then seek help. But the second part is sensory. Your body will communicate to you through feelings of awkwardness or confinement, feelings of heat and cold, and the sensation of pain, but these are not accurate; they are general warning signs. My gallbladder had to be removed in 2016, and when it acted up, I thought something was wrong with my intestines or appendix. Much lower than gallbladder. You may also receive synesthetic bleed-through -- effects upon your sight, hearing, smell, and taste, which warp your perception because of your pain. Most often, this is just increased agitation as a result of surrounding stimuli, and not a full change of what is sensed. People in pain become intolerant of even the smallest thing getting their attention. By manipulating your Conscious essence, you can weaken these sensory effects and put that essence to use somewhere else.

There are also psychic signals. Fight-or-flight signals that make you want to hurt something, go somewhere, or even harm yourself, in false pretenses of making the pain go away. Fear signals that something more severe could be wrong with you. Anger signals generally directed at your clumsiness, your weakness, or at someone you believe caused the pain. There may even be psychic signals that in turn generate hallucinations, making you think or see things in a way other than the real. Like the sensory experiences, you can manipulate your Psychic essence to weaken these signals and redirect the essence. Force your mind to think about something else, or to enter into a calm, thoughtless state.

Then there are vital patterns. These are scars of your vital essence, which are forcing you to adapt to the pain, to change as a result. If allowed to proceed, these patterns can be the hardest to fix in the long run. You will want to assume control of your life, and remove or alter these patterns. Pain is there to keep you informed; once the stressor is over, you will not want the pain to change who you are. If you have chronic pain like I do, the worst thing you can do is let ongoing physical suffering decide who you are. Erase the patterns it creates, and shape your vital essence into something more reflecting a calm, healthy being in control of your life. If you become your pain, then you risk changing into a creature that only understands the world through the lens of suffering, and seeks it rather than seeking your betterment.

The most effective method for dealing with these problems takes inspiration from the simple practice of weeding. If you pull weeds so that they break, the root will regrow the plant from its base. That is why you take the whole root system out. With your pain, trace these sensory experiences, psychic signals, and vital patterns down to their base form -- the waves of Causality communicating discomfort between you and the world. Find them, identify them, and prepare a plan for how to send your own waves. Muffle the existing ones and force Causality to bear the message you decide. The waves are telling you that something in your body, or something in your environment, is going to harm you. But you will tell Causality that you are strong, that you recover quickly, that you are safe. These signals will work to repel harmful things from you, but more importantly they will communicate to your body a more realistic impression of your experiences. This will help you to avoid suffering over a tired back or worn-out knees, where a simple, quiet "Hey, this needs rest," would suffice. Just because your feet need a break does not mean your body has to send torture signals.

Once you have uprooted these sensations and patterns, work upward from Causality, into the Physical and the Conscious. Send your physical essence into the places that need reinforcement. Send your conscious essence to inform your body that you are safe, and that you will rest soon; that it needs to flush out the lactic acid and dead cells, and replace them with healthy structures. Proceed into the psychic, and order your mind so that it will not dwell upon the painful experience, but focus on more pressing, long-term issues -- like your prosperity and getting to a place where you can be happy and content, regardless of your physical situation. When your mind is at peace, proceed into the vital. Harmonize with the life around you; rely upon their strength, but do not draw heavily upon them; only rely on them for comfort and support.

People may not be consciously, or financially, able to support you in this moment; but all life forms are connected, and all are there to be leaned on in the realm of Life itself. Take care that, when you have stripped the suffering out of your being, that you do not leave the space empty. Keep it filled with renewed physical strength, supported by diet and rest, and enrich that physical essence with Conscious essence. Instruct those base essences how to comport themselves, with the motion of your Mind and the commanding presence of the Vital. Remain mindful of the changes, checking back in frequently to ensure new pain does not supplant your work.

[xjamlessparkx]

divorce | myg |11

summary: in which you have to go through a painful process of your own family shattering

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: angst

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

“Y/N! Listen!” You heard him calling from behind. You started to walk faster, in hope that he would disappear. He shouldn’t follow you after you left because you just told him that it was late.

He didn’t stop and soon a warm hand grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him. He winced at the sight of you.

It wasn’t your intention, but as soon as you left you started crying and him calling your name wasn’t making it any better.

“What?” You snapped at him, stepping back and pulling your hand out of his grip.

“I, I made a huge mistake…” he started, going through his hair in an attempt to find words. His hair was pretty messy as his eyes were fixed on you, examining your whole face in hope to read your expressions. There wasn’t anything, but sorrow to read from you.

“It doesn’t feel like a mistake, though” you were surprised about the words which left your mouth. If he had been confessing to you weeks ago, maybe you his words would affect you. But now, they didn’t.

“The day … when you were drunk. You-” you cut him off, shaking your head at his statement. You knew where he wanted this conversation to lead to.

“Yoongi you just said it yourself. I was drunk. Anything I’ve said was because I wasn’t in my right mind… ” he shook his head as he shut his eyes, sighing deeply. Suddenly his hands reached out to you, his warm hands cupping your cheeks as he pulled you closer to himself. Slowly, he wiped away the last tears. You, on the other hand, were startled by his sudden action. Your eyes were wide, lips slightly apart while you watched Yoongi.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were so close to him. It felt like the first time in your life and your heart started beating faster. At that point your own body, your own feelings irritated you more than Yoongi’s words could do. It was confusing how you jumped from a monotonous condition to a feeling making you wanna combust in seconds. As if you were a teenage girl who fell in love for the first time in her life.

“You’re lying!” He breathed out, his forehead leaning against yours as he pulled you even closer. “You and I, we both know that there is still something between us, we can’t get rid off.” At his statement your heart sank and literally fell from its place, making you wince in surprise.

Your eyes were darted on the ground, afraid of looking up into his eyes. At some point, you didn’t realize that the position you were in was dangerously close. A part of your body wanted to push him back, but the other part didn’t allow you and wanted to rest a little more. Feel his warmth and closeness for the last time. His affection which made you feel loved by him, for the first time after your marriage.

“Yoongi-” your voice was wobbly and you tried to maintain your breath. Not realizing that you were somehow crowed by people around you, you stayed in your position. People would give you both a glance but ignore you and walk past the two of you.

He shushed you down. “Look, we all make mistakes. I know that mine is huge and that it will take time to recover, but I really don’t want to lose you. I’m an idiot for not taking care of you. An idiot for wanting to divorce-” his voice cracked as he talked. His warm thumb was brushing against your cheek slowly. The last word sent a shiver down your spine as you looked up, noticing how close the two of you were. Clearing your throat you put your hands on his chest, gently pushing him away while you step back.

“We, we shouldn’t do that…” you say as you stare into his eyes, the intensity growing.

“Y/N… I am so sorry” he was serious, you could tell by his expressions but you still didn’t want to accept the truth.

“A sorry won’t bring all the memories back we shared. A sorry won’t forget about the pain you caused. Remember when you told me that after our children know we will divorce. They already know …” you bluntly say, focused on his face.

“Y/N-” he started but you cut him off. The anger was bowling inside you, about to blow off. You now realized what he was pleading for.

“You want us to reunite? Live together again, as if nothing happened. Cause a trauma but then act like it wasn’t harmful to our children?” You say, your words being sincere as you point at him.

“Doesn’t that make you selfish? You only think about yourself, your own happiness and how you feel sad and regret what you did. What about us? Ahran, Junsun and me?” He couldn’t say anything, he was blown away by your words. Even though he wanted to protest and tell you how much he suffers at the moment. How much it hurts him that he let go of his family for a period of time where he felt wanted to have fun outside of his marriage. At some point, he overthought his decisions and asked himself if he really was mature enough for a marriage and a family.

“Ahran was going through a mentally painful crisis, not feeling loved by her parents. She had to agree with our decision because we are adults and decide what’s good and bad for us” your voice was surprisingly calm as you spoke and you also were a little taken back by your own mood changes. “Junsun seems like he isn’t affected at all but I hear him crying himself to sleep at nights. I see him fighting with his classmates because they make fun of his parents who are divorcing. I see him not attending birthday parties because he refuses to see others happiness when he himself can’t be happy at all. And me …” you voice cracked, feeling your throat burning as you couldn’t say anything. Your words didn’t come out, instead, you felt the tears forming in your eyes.

Yoongi’s eyes were teary as he listened closely to what you said. His heart sank at the painful process his children had to go through. He realized that he never really was ready for a marriage and regretted his decision of proposing to you so early. Maybe things would have a different turn by now.

He wanted to reach out to you, wipe away the tears which he knew he caused. But it felt like something was holding him back. Was it shame or fear that he would hurt you even more?

“You can’t just jump from one conclusion to other. Let’s assume that we will get back together. Ahran and Junsun might be happy at first but what if it doesn’t go the way we want it to be? If we can’t get hold of our relationship now, do you we can in the future? We can’t just play around with their feelings just because we have needs ourselves” You clarified, taking a deep breath as you wipe away the tears.

“We… we can try” he muttered. Indeed, he was hurt and ashamed but he still didn’t want to lose you. Not again.

“We can’t just try and wait for what will happen. We aren’t teenagers. We are adults who have children. The word ‘try’ doesn’t exist in our dictionary. It’s too late already …” you tell him and wait for his response. He doesn’t say a word.

“I wish you would’ve acknowledged my effort…” you whispered, hoping that he didn’t hear but he did.

“Words can’t describe how much I am sorry for what I did. Apologizing won’t work… but I really don’t want to give us up?” He started, stepping closer. In that moment, he felt the confidence growing as he hesitantly reached out for your hands.

“Us? Is there even something left about us?” You pulled your hands back out of his grip. “You already have a new relationship. Shouldn’t you focus on that?” You lifted your eyebrows, clearing your throat.

“It doesn’t matter how cruel a woman is. In this world, no woman deserves to get betrayed or cheated on. Not even Yuna. Doesn’t matter how much I want to avoid her. I’m not a person to destroy one’s relationship, not even in my dreams and you should’ve known by now. I wish you the best Yoongi…” you mumble, leaving him with no words left. You turned around and walked away.

On the one hand feeling totally dejected and disappointed for turning him down. The only chance to recuse your family, but on the other hand, you were proud of your confidence in speaking up against him and his wishes.

Nonetheless, it felt refreshing to finally be able to speak up without him talking down to you. Even though, what you said was sincere you hoped for him to not suffer like you did. If this would be the beginning of the crisis then maybe you would’ve wished him the same but now, everything was totally different. You knew how painful it was and never wished anyone to go through the same.

Externally, you were solid and serious about your decision but internally you wanted him back so bad.

Sometimes, we have to give up what we love to gain something new.

You two coming back together would cause more harm than good, you knew it. No matter how much you wanted him back, you should focus on your children’s feelings and future.

You pulled out your key and opened the door. Haning your jacket on the hanger, you went inside. Your mother crept out of the kitchen, with a towel in her hand as she dried her hands. The moment she spotted you, she furrowed her eyebrows.

“You’re early?” It was rather a question than a statement.

You sighed, putting the keys on the counter, “I lost my job” you plainly state as the lips of your mother dropped wide open.

“W-What?!” she shouted as she eyed you with wide stares.

“I’m tired…” you muttered. It felt like you talked enough for today. The conversation took away your strength and power to stand on your own feet. The only thing you wanted was to lie down and do nothing for the whole day. Even though you knew that the second part would be hard.

You heard your mother calling you, but you weren’t listening as you went into your room and let yourself fall on the bed, pulling the sheets closer to yourself.

No matter how much you were proud of yourself you asked yourself if this was really the right decision made

[creator-zee]

169

       Zyvot read the letter, and no one would realize anything was wrong. Her expression didn’t change, it rarely ever did. She always kept her emotions tightly under wraps. Showing too much, feeling too much, could be dangerous. She could lose control. She knew that all too well. The letter she was reading, a letter from home, did not need to emphasize that and her recent failures when she had lost control, but it did, and so her anger began to grow. She couldn’t be angry here though, she could hurt someone or something. She set the letter down on the desk with a little more force than necessary, and walked out of the room, showing almost no sign of the rage brewing below the surface. 

        One of her suitemates, who had been lounging in the living room area of the suite noticed this odd behavior. Sarah knew that Zyvot was far from normal, but she was curious and decided to investigate. She got up and followed Zyvot.

       Zyvot managed to remain calm until she left the dorm. As soon as her foot stepped outside the building she broke into a run. Her anger was boiling under the surface and with it her magic. She didn’t know how long she could keep it in check. She needed to get far away before she lost control. As soon as she judged she was far enough into the forest, she stopped and let it all out.

        A scream twisted from her mouth and her anger released along with a wave of fiery magic that spread out in a large fire around her. She was surrounded in a ring of fire. Given a chance to escape, her anger simmered down, allowing the emotions of regret, shame, and self-hate rise to the surface. She fell to her knees, as she sobbed. The letter had been so harsh and she had been trying. She hadn’t hurt anyone, just a practice dummy. It had been easily replaced. 

        Ice spread out from her, freezing the angry flames. 

        She allowed herself a few more minutes to break down before she took a deep breath and controlled herself. She needed to keep her emotions under control. She calmed herself and locked her emotions away. She melted the ice with a precise amount of magic, before turning to head back to the academy.

        Sarah, from where she was crouched in the bushes, a scarce few feet from the destruction, stared in awe. Who had that much magic? What in the world had that letter said?

169.1 (later)

        Zyvot was returning from a training session when three other students blocked her path. 

         “I’ve heard you have control problems.” One of them started.

         Another added. “Yeah, mommy and daddy sent you away to boarding school because you were causing too many problems.”

        “And yet you still have the gall to over exaggerate how much magic you have.” The one in the center, their leader, accused.

        Zyvot felt the anger growing in her, and fought to keep it down, she didn’t know how long she could hold her magic back. It demanded an outlet

        “I just want to go back to my dorm.” She said.

         The leader stepped forwards and prodded her in the chest. “Right. To burn it down. I heard about your little accident.”

          Zyvot tensed. Which one? She thought, had one of them seen her in the woods. 

          One of the lackeys snorted. “Yeah you exploded while practicing, destroyed a dummy.”

           “Like a toddler.” The other teased.

           “I’m surprised you even got into a school like this with so little control.” The leader teased. “Must be because of ‘all that magic’ you have. And I barely even see you use any. You rely rather heavily on your weapons over magic.”

          Zyvot couldn’t keep it in, the magic had to go somewhere, but she couldn’t hurt them. She channeled it into herself, masking the pain as her flesh burned under the excess magic. It was harmless in the long run. Magic and technology had advanced enough that she would be able to heal herself without even scarring. 

         The bullies continued oblivious to the danger they were in. “Not surprising considering you have the magical capacity of a toddler.”

         Reusing the same insult. How pathetic. Zyvot shook her head.

         “Just let me go back to my dorm.” She asked again.

         The leader shook his head. “Make me.”

         The magic spread from just her arms to her torso as well. Zyvot tried to contain it to areas she could easily spread the salve over.

        The leader laughed when she did nothing, driving a hand into her chest and pushing her back. “That’s what I thought.” He laughed as he, followed by his lackeys, brushed past.

        Zyvot’s anger didn’t dissipate immediately and neither did the magic that begged to be released, but away from their taunting words she managed to calm herself, stopping her anger and her magic. She hurried up to her dorm, quickly entering the suite and heading to her room, not noticing Sarah and Lily in the living room. They noticed her though, and although they were used to their brusque and distant behavior, this seemed different. Both stood and look in Zyvot’s room that she shared with Lily.

       “What happened?” Lily gasped, seeing Zyvot, who had removed her shirt revealing the nasty magical burns along her arms and lower half of her torso.

        Zyvot glanced up, as she grabbed salve. “I had a run in with Markus and his lackey’s.”

        “Are they okay?” Sarah asked at the same time Lily asked. “Are you okay?”

        Lily turned to Sarah in shock and disappointment. “She’s the one who’s injured.”

        Sarah shrugged. “I’ve seen what she can do when she’s angry.”

        Zyvot winced internally, but externally remained calm. They’re fine Sarah. Don’t worry. I controlled myself.”

         “You shouldn’t have if they did that to you.” Lily gestured at her wounds.

        Zyvot continued applying the salve. “They didn’t.”

        “Then who?”

       “I did.”

       Silence before Lily asked. “Why?”

       “Magic has to go somewhere. I couldn’t hurt them.” Zyvot explained calmly.

        “So you hurt yourself?” Lily demanded aghast.

        “I’ll be fine in a few hours. No long term damage.” Zyvot shrugged Lily’s concern off.

        “Still...” Lily argued, unsure what exactly to say.

        Zyvot wasn’t paying attention to Lily’s futile attempts though she noticed Sarah’s poorly disguised fear. 

        “Don’t worry.” She reassured Sarah. “My parents sent me here to learn how to control my magic. That’s what I’m doing. I won’t hurt anyone.”

         “You hurt yourself.” Lily argued futilely.

       “What about the dummy incident?” Sarah pushed.

        Zyvot felt her anger and irritation return. She was never going to live that down. She turned her magic against herself again, but it wasn’t enough to burn, just heat her up.

         “No one got hurt. And that was months ago. I have better control.” She gestured to her arms. “See. I know what to do with the magic now. It’s easier to channel it elsewhere than to just bottle it up.”

         “Why do you have so much uncontrollable magic anyways?” Sarah pressed, leaning against the doorframe.

          Fear replaced anger and hot magic became cool. She fought back shivers.

          “I drew the short straw in life.” She answered vaguely.

         Realizing she wasn’t going to get an answer Sarah shrugged and turned away heading back to the living room. Lily approached Zyvot, still concerned  about her roommate.

        Zyvot stepped back from Lily’s approaches. “Stay away.”

        Lily had been expecting that. Zyvot was always distant, never opening up despite anyone’s efforts. She always kept her distance, emotionally and physically. 

        “Just let me help you.” Lily said, stepping closer again.

        “Stay away or I will hurt you.” Zyvot warned.

        “Why are you threatening me?” Lily asked, gently. 

        “It’s not a threat, just a fact.” Zyvot said, careful to keep her voice level, careful to keep her emotions locked away. 

         Lily sighed, she had tried. “Fine. Just be careful. Don’t hurt yourself.”

         Zyvot tactfully remained silent. She couldn’t keep that promise.

[gg-astrology]

Since both Hoseok and Jimin are infamously known as the two who are most scary when angry, can astrology tell us how scary?

Hey there! 💕  Thanks for sending this in dfkjnkn I’ll do my best to explain it 💕

[Below Cut: BTS anger] 

warning: long post

Also: BTS - Skin-Ship/Physical Affections from Others | Pettiness | Love Language | Fatherhood | Relationships | Rapline | Backstab | Masterlist 

Note: this is just my interpretation, feel free to have your own interpretation on the subject. As always, please use your own discretion when reading! 💕

Premise

First thing that comes to mind is that context might be important here, everybody gets angry to an extent. How they lash out depends on how angry they are and who they are as well (nature- overall placement, nurture, how they’ve grown/developed/matured). 

Some people might have trouble getting angry (they’re just never angry) Some has only experienced mild irritations. Suppressed emotions can be pretty common, especially those who just doesn’t know how to express themselves properly/acknowledge their feelings. 

They’ll have to learn sooner or later. How to recognize and resolve ‘negative’ emotions they might feel. How to express them healthily, and how to do so in doses instead of overly-expressing them or suppressing them entirely. 

Now, the reason Hoseok and Jimin might be ‘the scariest when angry’ is within the context of BTS themselves. How often does the other boys express their anger? How do they express it? Is it just irritation, frustration or do they suppress/act passive aggressive about it?

Taehyungie 

Taehyungie– with a truckload of Capricorn in him, is literally the most peacekeeping lil shit without actually being peaceful himself. Capricorn Mars, Aries Moon, Aquarius Venus. Alot of his energy goes into making sure nothing gets too out of hand, but at the same time– trying to find objectivity in his reasoning/situation in order to express his anger 

(Like, there has to be that ‘exact’ moment where everything in his head makes sense within the context of the conversation, so he can just insert it out there – like a pre-formed phrase that’s just waiting for the right time/context to be expressed you know? Kind of like Cards Against Humanity.) 

Capricorn placements (especially Mars) might find it so much easier to just swallow down their anger– a momentary emotion, in order to observe and find the best way/opportunity to express them properly. 

The head always rules the heart, even when the heart is close to breaking down in tears/a million pieces (not trying to be melodramatic sdjfnakns this is just– how it is sometimes) 

There’s a reason Capricorn is exalted in Mars, and it’s because they can literally put themselves on the back-pedal in order to put the situation first. 

It’s the same self-sacrificing aspect they have, where they don’t want to ‘burden’ others with their emotions/problems because they feel awkward expressing themselves. A dumbass about it, but a well-intended one (that’s going to bite them in the ass eventually).

There’s power and dominance in being able to handle your own emotions, even if you had to suppress them at the beginning. In terms of anger, oh it’s not like he doesn’t feel anger. It’s just that– the Capricorn/Aquarius way, anger is always expressed through the head, through objectivity, rather than emotionally letting go/releasing that outwards.

It’s this innate need for power and control over their own objectivity that makes them quiet, makes them seek a different opportunity to express themselves. They’re stubborn and foolhardy, they can wait forever just for a 0.5 window of opportunity that’s perfect to align itself for them.

(Also, Capricorn Mercury/Mars – loud booming voice, no heat in them. Intimate sometimes, but always clear about what they want. Once they’ve reached a limit/others push them to the limit, they’ll become pretty blunt about self-protection.The loud voice is more to do with intimidating tactic, done subconsciously. Not really meant to harm/shout at others, it’s just the way they naturally escalate in volume/primal in a way. Push authority into short words but straight to the point. Doesn’t like to do this to others bc they feel guilty/like they’ve wronged their social responsibility to others (some moral integrity stuff)– so they’re always trying to ‘soften’ themselves up constantly/outside of the context.) 

Jungkookie 

Compared to Taehyung, Jungkookie has more of an internal alignment to be peaceful internally– even if he doesn’t know how to do so/exert it externally that well (he’s still learning). 

Virgo, compared to Capricorn– is more internally controlled. They’re aware of what they’re doing, what they’re going through, how they deal with situations. While Capricorn as a cardinal sign, is more intuitively aware/experienced with keeping peace externally.

Virgos as a mutable sign, is more of a sign that configurate things inside of themselves and if the solution isn’t satisfactory– they go ‘this aint it’ and work to find a ‘better’ solution (in regards to emotional dissatisfaction/anger).

Virgos motive for making a move is centered around ‘can it be improved?’ – if it’s a constructive criticism, if the other person can make some changes around it. Will it be useful/helpful going further? They’re stubbornly prideful, clings onto their moral integrity. If it’s just a ‘passing emotion’ they’re less inclined than any other signs to make a screaming match about something that doesn’t matter to them in the long-run. 

Moral integrity is the utmost important, and then ‘will they listen? will they accept help?’ becomes secondary factor on whether or not they should express their anger. Like Capricorn, it’s pretty controlled. Clean cut, moral objectivity. But in this case, there’s actually an allowance for irritation to flare or personal feelings to come forward.

They’re not going to deny themselves the opportunity to feel something, but they will most likely deny expressing it to another person. Would rather eat the poison and suffer alone, than drag anyone into it because they don’t know how to express it properly. Maybe after they broke down, they process everything and have had time to think about what they want to say– they might consider letting others in on their inner thoughts/vulnerabilities. Maybe not.

(Also, Scorpio Mars. Has the ability to ‘shut off’ emotions to get things done. I know, ‘water signs are emotional’ and all that– but when it gets too much, too overwhelming and they have to focus on a single-minded goal/objective– they are prone to just exerting themselves into action, to reach a certain goal, with or without hurting other people along the way.) 

(Can be kind of prissy, isn’t booming like Tae but isn’t backing down either. Clipped, short but shows more self-control/awareness of other’s emotional receptivity than Tae does/primal. Isn’t guilty about it unless Leo Moon dictates so.) 

Namjoonie

Can’t talk about anger without mentioning Namjoonie. Again, with his Virgo there’s a modicum of control. But also with the Sagittarius Moon, Libra Mercury and Cancer Mars– there’s a conscious decision to ‘slither’ this control into something different, something not as openly hurtful to others, but still self-expressive. 

Anger is just an emotion people go through. Frustration, embarrassment, shame, regret are emotions everyone’s supposed to feel. 

There’s no shame in acknowledging that, in discovering and categorizing that inside of yourself (Virgo - wants internal control/seeks out externally, and part of that control comes from noticing emotions inside of themselves - Cancer/Scorpio)   

With a Sagittarius Moon (fire moons), every emotion feels physical. Your face flares up, your heart-beat quickens.You react instinctively, through what you’ve already experienced/know before their brain goes on shut down. 

Processing of emotions comes after, putting a name to it acknowledging what it is and figuring out a way to counteract it in the future.

See, the thing about it is that fire signs feels emotions but can’t control it. It’s an automatic reaction, everything catches them off-guard. Water signs feels and acknowledge emotions but doesn’t see the point in letting it all out at once (inner-depth/internal emotions not just external ones). 

Sure they might know how to navigate through it and often wish to ‘turn it off’, but the comparison between fire/water sign is like throwing a pro-swimmer and a non-swimmer in a pool and ask them to stay afloat for 30 minutes. 

One is just struggling to survive while the other is tired because they’ve been paddling for 15 minutes. Fire signs shows more emotional reaction than water sign does, mostly because they don’t have complete control over their emotions the way water-sign does. 

Water signs acknowledge emotions, acknowledge reactions and learns how to navigate through it. How to swim, how to figure it out, how to work through it eventually. Fire signs are stuck at the beginner-level swimming phrase for a lot of their emotional reaction.

Having both of these in one’s chart (Sagittarius Moon/Cancer Mars/Scorpio Venus) – Namjoon can’t control his emotional reaction (his frustration/anger)– but he can learn how to categorize them, how to work with them and how to express them to others properly.

He feels emotions (not just anger) truthfully and honestly. He learns how to hone it, how to cope and work with it through social obligations/situations (Scorpio Venus/Cancer Mars). He’s a sneaky bitch who acts passive-aggressively sometimes, side-eyes, snarks, can be a little insensitive but he’s learning.      

If there’s a situation where he can’t express his emotions, earth/air takes over. That’s his awkwardness, fire/water at least acknowledges/expresses emotions. Earth/airs would rather die than express any kind of vulnerabilities they haven’t screen-tested before showing it outwards.  

Think of it as like, the head (earth/air) versus the heart (fire/water). Which side would you choose? Which side is more important? Neither, but when it comes to anger/expressing anger– Namjoon might let his heart rules him before his head (earth/air) actually shifts into gear (vice versa too, but it usually lets to the heart losing control and the head having to pick up the pieces/try to keep a modicum of control that we’re talking about earlier with Virgo) 

The difference between Namjoon and Jungkook is the configuration of placement. They might have all the elements there, but Namjoon has 2 counts water (Scorpio/Cancer) while Jungkook has 2 counts earth (Virgo Sun/Mercury). 

With an elemental balance (all elements in a chart) – the ones that’s overwhelmed by the other is the one that needs to be practiced, learnt and is like their ‘vulnerability’. 

So with Jungkook, anger is more controlled than Namjoon. He may not express it well/all at once like Namjoon does, or know how to do so without holding back —but it’s heart-felt anyways. Namjoon goes heart-first in expressing his emotions, his thoughts, he tries to make it reasonable, but the heart/emotions wins over logic when push comes to shove.

It’s kind of like– the 2 count head/earth is the overt exertion, while the heart is the underlying layer for Jungkook. While for Namjoon it’s the opposite, the 2 count heart/water is exerted (way of expressing his emotions) and then the head is the underlying layer underneath (trying to keep balance/control).

(Which is why– if he holds a grudge, the heart doesn’t forget and the head works to keep it under-wraps. ) 

(Always wants to win, so the main objective to Libra Mercury is winning the argument. Competitive without realizing it, especially when Cancer Mars is engaged/cardinal. Smug but firm, gloats a little.) 

 Yoongi 

Now we have a watery man example. Yoongi is?? similar to Jungkook and Namjoon in a way. Pisces Mercury, Aries Venus are quick to point out things that they disagree with. They may be easy-going most of the time, but if it’s taken too far by someone else– they’re the ones who’s going to go ‘this aint it’ and explain to others what could be added to make it better.

Of course, emotionally he’s aware of himself (virgo moon) but can also steer the direction very quickly (pisces). Yoongi is like, the opposite and similar to Taehyung. 

Tae’s fire moon earth sun expresses emotions physically but also suppresses himself– doesn’t have time to acknowledge bad behaviors/habit he has or the emotion he just went through.  

Yoongi’s aware of the emotions he went through/feels, he can suppress it too if he wants. Most likely if the opportunity/the way he words it isn’t to his liking. 

With Pisces Mercury, often times he has a hard time expressing his emotions forward to others anyways. The way he goes about expressing/connecting to others is through teasing (Aries Venus) motivating others, guiding them/being there for them (Virgo Moon).

In terms of anger/expressing anger, Virgo/Aries takes over externally. ‘This ain’t it’ becomes the biggest concern, constructive criticism but also objectivity becomes key points. Underneath that, is the underlying Pisces/Cancer– he cares, it’s from the heart. Emotional connectivity to others for protection, guidance, empathy and realizing objectivity in the situation.

More of the type to rely on empathetic logic/rationality (emotional) than trust himself to express things from the heart completely. Everything is kind of a ratio of 1:2 emotions to logic. Mostly from that Virgo Moon keeping things under-wraps for him (internal control).

At the same time, he can tend to take personal offense to things because of this Virgo/Pisces/Cancer part. Nagging, irrationality, personal complaints about his personal lifestyle that isn’t bothering anyone might irate him (less serious stuff -> irrationality anger, more serious stuff -> rational empathetic anger - Pisces). 

Yoongi structures things methodically, systematically through the head to achieve the heart’s emotionality/expressing the heart out. That’s why, compared to Namjoon, he tends to be much more a person who holds a grudge over the decades and plans for revenge (with a smugness/air of superiority that Pisces/Virgo has, ‘martyr-like’ superiority) because the heart really doesn’t forget, but the head also works to exact revenge exactly as planned. 

(Because of trouble expressing the self, tends to rely more on Aries Venus to get through to people. Complains a lot, goes about seeking things in a roundabout way sometimes.)

Jinnie

Next we have Jinnie, let’s acknowledge how the luminaries are fire/fire which makes him pretty expressive/lose his head pretty quickly. But the lower half, his inner planets– are Scorpio/Capricorn/Cancer. 

Similar to Namjoon, but because Namjoon has a Virgo Sun, he can tend to hold back a bit more (trying to figure himself out) while Jin has no regards expressing how he feels in a way that’s accessible to him – logically but also rapidly. 

I know we’ve all said ‘Jin’s hiding something’ or has a more ‘serious side’ to him– but that’s mostly just a Capricorn and how Capricorns typically are. There’s no hidden agenda, everyone just thinks Capricorn are like hidden darkhorse or something/has something underneath it all. 

Capricorn and Scorpio both are kind of objectively driven, pressured by the same kind of stamp as each other (time/challenges) grind in the same kind of mortar. 

The reason most people feel unease because of these signs (‘they’re intimidating’ or ‘they’re mysterious’) is because people like to objectify them without understanding/acknowledging them as people themselves. (Wow what a surprise that Jin gets treated the same sometimes by the fandom!) 

Jin expresses anger through objectivity, but it comes in layers. 

One, if it’s frustration/immediate he jokes about it, tries to bring it to attention so others can pick up on the ‘actual’ gravity of the situation through pressure/tenseness of his snark.

Two, if that doesn’t work– he expresses his points objectively instead. You’d be caught dead in a ditch if a Scorpio Mercury actually spill their heart out to you with all their vulnerabilities, everything has to be screen-tested first. 

You’ve been screen-tested, his emotions are screen-tested, his strength/weaknesses are screen-tested. Everything can be tested in order to ensure optimal support and transformative motion to the situation.  

Three, it’s pretty straight forward. Unless he can handle it himself (keep it under-wraps) work through his insecurities/vulnerabilities and come out alive. He likes to categorize concern for ‘ones to talk about with others’ and ‘ones to deal with himself’.   

Control — Capricorn/Cancer/Scorpio all talks about having control. Externally most of all, what you see is what you get (for now). There’s more underneath it (obviously) but unless he’s ready to conclude/worked through it already he’s not going to let anything get ‘messy’ externally so others can see it. 

Control is also level-headedness. The key word to Jin is that he’s not messy. His emotions aren’t all over the place, everything is pointed, purposeful. Evoke something purposefully with an objective/punch-line he can run with. Even his jokes/first level frustration has an objectiveness to it. 

It’s great because it’s systematic and objective right? There’s the private, personal and public. Everything is organized in layers. Whether you want him to be personal or his public self, he can bring it out for you. The main key here is Capricorn Venus dependability. Combined with Cancer Mars control/protectiveness.

(This ‘not messy’ part is important. Having layers helps him with this. It’s not like Namjoon or Yoongi, who can get quite messy. Not like Taehyung or Jungkook who’s abhorrant to messiness in general (on a spectrum of Taehyung/Jungkook to Yoongi/Namjoon how messy are you?). Jin isn’t afraid to get dirty with his emotions, but he cleans up after himself afterwards because he knows how.) 

Hoseok and Jimin

Now, we get to the two in question. The members mentioned how they’re the scariest when mad right? Well after we’ve looked at everyone– on the scale of Taehyung to Namjoon– how messy do you think they get?

There’s two things here. First, Jimin doesn’t hide his anger/frustration. Most of all when it comes to himself. His own frustration/anger at himself, he’s pretty expressive about how he feels, where he’s at emotionally and wants to engage emotional conversations with others (BV3 - also Scorpio Venus).

Hoseok hides his anger/frustration. Not through an obligation (although it does make an easy convenience/excuse to do so considering his job) but more like he doesn’t understand it, can’t control it. Doesn’t even know how to go about acknowledging it sometimes (Taurus Moon).

We see the sister signs Scorpio-Taurus here more prominently. And of course, Namjoon who also has a Scorpio Venus is just as messy as Jimin (although Jimin is– substantially better at controlling/using his Scorpio than Namjoon is)

The key point here is that Jimin doesn’t hold back from expressing himself. Crying when someone mentions it? Expressing his emotions/thoughts? His Forte. 

He grew up learning how to do this, despite his awkwardness shy clumsy ass. He doesn’t disallow himself to express what he’s learnt to express, what’s good for him, what he shouldn’t keep to himself.

The luminaries (Libra/Gemini) is lighter than the lower half (Scorpio Venus/Mars)– there’s a balance of rationality to emotionality. Doesn’t mean he knows how to control it.

What he lacks in fire/earth– makes him learns thing step by step. He doesn’t rush into things, doesn’t hold himself back. He learns what he has to learn and he keeps going that way. Focused, in the present, build up from each other without suppressing himself down (Libra/cardinal). 

Which is why he has a better grasps at expressing himself emotionally than Taehyung does, or directing Jungkook on where to go/how to do things when kook needs a little more emotional direction (Namjoon is kind of similar in this way to Jungkook)

Jimin isn’t head driven or heart driven, he’s made up entirely of those two (air/water). That’s his entirely (Libra/Gemini/Scorpio). He isn’t like Yoongi who lashes out playfully to his own inability to express himself properly (Pisces Mercury/Aries Venus) or Jin who reacts in layers (Fire Sun-Moon/Scorpio-Capricorn-Cancer) 

Jimin’s steadfast in his approach to emotional reactions, he learns and grows as he goes– step by step. He doesn’t hide himself or hold himself back. 

Figuring out that literally 6/7 of the team members have some earth placements in them that kind of acts as an ‘anchor’ holding them down – its freeing to be able to zooms in and out of guiding others in the right emotional direction as well.

Now we look at Hoseok. Who is literally the opposite of Jimin. He’s just as zoomy, quick on his feet. But emotionality? Pah.  

The thing with Taurus Moon is that unless it hits them in the face, they won’t even realize what they’re feeling sometimes. This isn’t stubbornness, it’s literally obliviousness. 

Thus why, when they ‘explode’ (because, y know. Suppress it until you can’t make it. But unlike Virgo/Capricorn, Taurus doesn’t have that self-preservation sensor that tells them they’re nearing their limit/should express themselves now)– it’s a whirlwind of unexpected, surprising emotions. To them and to others.

The reason why it’s scary is because they don’t even realize what they felt/how they’ve been feeling. Everything is fine and dandy in the Taurus world until it’s not. And then it’s like the Apocalypse is happening. Because everything comes crashing down all at once, taking everything– the Taurus themselves, others around them, off guard completely.

This isn’t like the Scorpio native who knows their emotions, comes in short bursts, can fix it/control it pretty quickly. 

The Taurus literally has no idea where it’s coming from, so any modicum of control they may have over their situation/themselves/others? Gone in a flashflood (*depends on the person, mostly their development/placement) 

The repercussion is a series of self-evaluation. Wondering where they’ve gone wrong, what they didn’t notice the first time around. It’s a slow learning curve, unlike the Scorpio’s transformation/regeneration process. The Taurus is stagnant in what it’s learnt/know, so it grows only when it does some serious self-evaluation (after) and not during it.   

The thing with Hoseok is that he’s also made up of Aquarius and Pisces. So besides that Taurus Moon– his problem is that he’s always a bit frantic. Pisces does that to people, want to be appreciated, want to be near/close and observe others. The power of their astute observation is also their downfall, because that directly fuels their anxiety. 

It creates a time-scape where they’re concerned about the now, the future (or think constantly about the past without doing much about it). They don’t have time to self-evaluate or go through the process of learning the Taurus has to do in order to progress/grow the way it wants to. 

Aquarius observes, direct, helps both sides. But getting involved in the Taurus’s messy emotions or the Pisces’s urge/desire? Unlikely. To others who needs it– yes, sure of course. To itself? It’s own problem? Pah.

So now we have two duality. Both who learns in similar ways. Step by step, growth spurt by growth spurt (fixed). 

But one who doesn’t realize his emotions until it’s too late sometimes (wants to help others, wants to be useful/helpful and cries easily - Pisces Venus) 

And one who still has to learn, to be able to explore all types/variety/ranges of emotions (optimistic, idealistic, wants to explore, looks on the positive - Libra/Gemini)

They counteract each other, one who controls and the other who loses control (Taurus-Scorpio * this is kind of simplified, they’re much more complex than that but this is kind of a small conclusion in regards to the context/subject above). 

One who looks at things optimistically and one who wants to do things properly (Gemini/Libra/Scorpio-Aquarius/Pisces/Taurus) 

They balance each other out. They work similarly, approaches things similarly, but execute things differently from each other. 

Conclusion

On a scale of all of Bangtan, Hoseok’s obliviousness to his emotions is even worse than Taehyung is. 

Mostly because Taehyung still acknowledges that he does have emotions, and his burdened with his ‘worser’ emotions (don’t want to burden others) – while Hoseok doesn’t even acknowledge that he has it, or felt it. Going straight to solving other’s problem or approaching it practically instead (Aquarius -making the fall out worse sometimes) 

Out of all of Bangtan, Jimin’s on the other end of the scale. Maybe tied to Namjoon or the Hyung-line (Jin, Yoongi). He’s kind of like Jungkook, as time goes he gets more control over his range of emotions. And thus, he learns how to balance it out himself.

Note that Earth and Air signs do feel emotions, and can express said emotions. But whether or not its ‘good’ or ‘bad’ emotions to them, will dictate how/if they express it to others. 

So yeah, contextually. It’s all of Bangtan that should be considered. As well as perspective of those involved. To me, someone like Yoongi or Jin would be hard to handle. Mostly because my way of handling my anger/emotions wouldn’t know what to do with those who express their anger/emotions that way. 

Considering Bangtan, and their lack of experience with Taurus emotional expression (or Gemini emotional expression) – it might be hard to calm them down or help them if they can’t approach it/understand it in their own way.

Whether someone’s scary when they’re angry or not depends on how well equipped we are with handling them. Whether we see it in ourselves, or whether we lose control completely. 

I mentioned control a lot in this answer, mostly because that’s part of the problem (abundance of control/too much of it) but also the way it’s expressed to others. We all have some kind of control over ourselves, as– you know– maturing adults. 

We’ve learnt how to express ourselves differently, some of the lingering problems when we were kids are still there, but we try to grow with it, grow through it anyways. 

Ending Ment

Sorry if this was a bit messy sdkjfnkasnf  I feel really stiff coming back after going on vacation for a while. But I hope this is a good answer anyways 💕 Thank you for sending in the ask! 💕

[giftedsupport]

In my work with emotionally intense, sensitive and gifted individuals, I am cautious of the confines of categories and diagnoses. Far too often, the most creative, forward and independent thinking people are being misunderstood, mislabelled and misdiagnosed.

Being sensitive does not equals vulnerability. Sensitive people are innately porous and receptive to their environment, making them painfully aware of not just physical sensations, sounds and touch, but also relational experiences such as warmth or indifference. In a critical, undermining setting, they may devolve into despair, but— and this is important to note— in a supportive and nurturing environment, they thrive like no others.  

It is true that because of their unique ways of perceiving the world, they are acutely aware of and have more intense internal responses towards existing problems in their early lives, which may exacerbate the impact of any developmental deficits and trauma. However, sensitive children respond to not just the negative but also the positive.  They may be more prone to upsets and physical sensitivities , but they also possess the most capacity to be unusually vital, creative, and successful.  

In other words, the sensitive ones are not born ‘vulnerable’, they are simply more responsive to their environments. And with the right kind of knowledge, support and nurture— even if this means replenishing what one did not get in childhood in adulthood— they can thrive like no others.

SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF DEVELOPMENTAL TRAUMA

Difficulties in regulating emotions- Uncontrollable mood swings, persistent sadness and depression, explosive or inhibited anger, being easily triggered by external events and not able to manage the emotions that surge up.

Chronic Shame - A persistent sense defectiveness— the feeling that one is disgusting, ugly, stupid, or basically flawed. This may involve thoughts such as ‘nothing I do is good enough’, ‘there is something fundamentally wrong with me’, ‘I am bad and toxic’. Such extreme self- hatred may lead to suicidal thoughts and self-harming behaviours.  

Disconnection and Isolation- Because people who experience early trauma had not felt welcomed into the world, connection (with both themselves and others) becomes a core struggle. They may feel a sense of isolation, of being completely different from other human beings. They simultaneously have an intense need for and an extreme fear of contact.

Feeling ungrounded and powerless- Many People who suffer from developmental trauma constantly feel ungrounded and un-centered in their bodies. They may feel like frightened children living in adult bodies. Many get overwhelmed easily; when things happen, they easily feel close to breaking down.

Hopelessness and Despair - Chronically traumatised individuals feel hopeless about finding anyone who can understand them. Many lose a sense of meaning in life, struggle to sustain faith, and live with a lingering sense of despondency.

Nameless Dread/ Hyper-Vigilance- By being chronically traumatised, their nervous system remain in a continual state of high arousal, which reinforces the persistent feeling of threat. Many feel that they cannot relax, and have to always be looking out for danger. They may be irritable and jumpy, suffer from insomnia, and other anxiety-related disorders and obsessive- compulsive tendencies.

Numbness and Emptiness - Because the repeated abuse or neglect was so painful, many have employed dissociation as a way of coping. This may involve disconnection from the bodily self, emotions, and other people. By keeping threat from overwhelming consciousness, they can continue to function in the outside world, but is left with a chronic feeling of internal deadness.

[enigmaphenomenon]

Something’s up with Jack (Another Jack analysis)

I believe Handsome Jack has Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Let’s first go through the symptoms of BPD. In order to be diagnosed with BPD one needs to have repeated patterns of 5 out of 9 symptoms of BPD. I’ll go through the symptoms Jack displays. 

Google gives a very brief list of symptoms. I’ll highlight the ones Jack is shown having. 

Behavioral: antisocial behavior, compulsive behavior, hostility, impulsivity, irritability, risk taking behaviors, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, social isolation, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, anxiety, general discontent, guilt, loneliness, mood swings, or sadness

Psychological: depression, distorted self-image, grandiosity, or narcissism

So let’s just dive right into his symptoms. I don’t...really need to provide examples of Jack’s narcissism, do I? Because that one is obvious as all hell. 

1)  An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection. 

Oh yeah. And Jack reacts quite violently to what he perceives as betrayals and/or abandonment. If you trust Jack instead of Fiona at the end of Episode 2, and refuse to trust him in Episode 3 when he asks you too...uh...

“Oh. Oh, that’s a... shame. Because I thought--- I thought we were becoming pals. Saved your life back there and you...still don’t trust me? You know I’m uh...I’ve had to deal with this my whole damn life you know? You try to do the right thing and people just... crap all over you for it. Well, congrats kiddo. You’re the latest in a long line of Jack-shitters. Super psyched about it.” 

This isn’t the first time Jack mentions that he should have seen this all coming, he mentions it again at the end of Episode 5. 

“I should have seen this coming--ever since I came to this nacho-flavored shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everybody I gave rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell...my goddamn daughter.” 

Then, of course, Jack telling Rhys...

And....

Jack has extreme violent reactions to people he views as being against him, even when they aren’t. Adding to this is Jack’s hatred of all vault-hunters due to Lilith and Roland’s betrayal and also his fear of being shot in the back if he lets his enemies live. Remember he was willing to forgive the Meriff and let him live until the Meriff tries to shoot Jack as he’s walking away. This then leads to Jack airlocking scientists just for the mere possibility one of them might be working for Zarpedon. Also, when Athena or whoever else you play suggest just rushing to the vault and not fighting Jack insists they all must die, stating that if you let your enemies live, they’ll shoot you in the back. 

2)  A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel. (People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, with nothing in between. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash from your rapid swings between idealization and devaluation, anger, and hate.)

Moxxi, Rhys, Angel, and his second wife. 

Moxxi says he was clingy and that’s why she dumped Jack, Jack blew up her slaughter dome thing due to this, but this doesn’t stop him from asking her for help to fight against Zarpedon. 

Rhys? Aw man just take a look at this switch. 

“Oh, wow. I wish I could hug you right now. I’m gonna make a robot that just hugs you when I tell it to. I’m so proud. I’m so proud of my special boy! This is a perfect partnership, Rhys. You trusted me. I trusted you, and now we’re here! Man--never really had a partner I could count on before. Feels kinda dope”

No Jack, Rhys doesn’t want a giant Endoskeleton to crawl inside his body. 

“This was YOUR chance to make history, you moron! To be part of a legacy! To matter for once in your useless little life!”

Angel doesn’t need to be explained right? In the ECHO logs in Borderlands 2 Jack cycles between being amiable towards her and then lashing out at her. 

His relationship with his second wife was ruined over him refusing to shut down the control core, and in an ECHO log it’s stated she disappeared shortly after telling Jack to shut down the control core. 

3) Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self

Jack is a meglomaniac who sees himself as the hero and as a god, but, in BL2 he brings this up: 

"I know you think I'm a monster. You think I enslaved Angel. But you didn't see what she did to her mother. I had to restrain Angel's power. You get that? I had to."

He brings this up to the vault hunter. Why? What does he care what the vault hunter thinks of him? Jack sure as hell hasn’t cared at all about “bandits” opinions of him. And he really isn’t shy about blaming other people for something, come on, this is the same man who says he shot a baby because THE BABY was being a dick. 

Jack doesn’t blame Angel for betraying him. As he said in TFTBL, she had no choice. He also doesn’t say that vault hunters killed her. He says that she killed herself.

This is Jack being hit with the realization that his daughter is dead, and that he drove her to it. He’s the monster who enslaved Angel, but he says he had to do it (I’ll go deeper into this in a different essay). He had to to restrain her power, he had to, as if he didn’t have a choice. There is guilt behind these words. 

To compare, in Tomb Raider 2013 there was extra dialogue (that for some reason was not in the final version of the game) after Lara has her first kill, she tells herself “I had to do it. I had to do it.” That’s how Lara rationalizes taking a life. If she had not killed that man, he would have killed her, so she “had to.”

I believe its the same with Jack. There is guilt there. Why would he feel the need to defend his actions to the vault hunters? To the “bandits?” He saw Angel ask the vault hunters to end her life, he saw her call them friend, her last dying breath was needing to tell her father that he’s an asshole. Jack knows. He knows what he’s done. But he’s too mentally ill to accept it, or change it. If anything, that just drove him further into insanity. 

In TFTBL Jack also mentions that he knows where Rhys is coming from and imposter syndrome is normal, and to just strangle that voice in his head that says he’s not good enough. 

4) Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship

Hahahaha ooooooh yeaaaaah. 

Spending sprees: Butt Stallion

“My day? It's been pretty good. I just bought a pony made of diamonds, because I’m rich. So, you know. That’s cool.“

Unsafe sex: 

“If I’da just thrown stock options at the Vault Hunters instead of bullets, I’d be on a beach right now doing disturbingly graphic things with the local ladies.”

Drug abuse: 

He mashed up a mushroom and snorted it...a lot...

Primo hit of electri-drugs.

His chair also has contact activated Dopamine injectors. 

Jack drinks, a lot apparently, since he thought either sex or drinking would kill him. 

It really wouldn’t surprise me if Jack participated in orgies which he probably totally did.

5)  Extreme emotional swings. Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Jack is...really unstable and I don’t think anyone will disagree.  

ECHO logs in BL2 depict Jack going from manic to a fit of rage both with Angel and Mr. Tassiter. As well as Mr. Moorin who he strangles for mentioning his wife. 

Or when he gets really excited...

6) Chronic feelings of emptiness. People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the hole with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

After becoming CEO he became dictator of Pandora, then decided...hey why not conquer more planets? Why not basically become a god? That toppled on top of Jack’s drug use and sex life. He bought a diamond horse and named it Butt-stallion...

He also says that when he takes Rhys’ body he’s still gonna use it to eat food and bang a bunch of people. 

(A side note, Dameon Clarke while answering questions as Handsome Jack said that there’s a lot of smiling going on but he’s actually dead inside. I just wanted to add it here as a point of interest.)

Jack also tolerated Mr. Tassiter’s insults until Tassiter told Jack that he’s a pathetic nobody under his mask. This leads to Jack strangling him and keeping his goatee as a reminder of what happens to people when they’re a dick to Jack. 

7)Explosive anger. If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time being angry at yourself.

I don’t feel I need to provide examples for this one. We’ve all seen Jack’s rage. He uh....really goes off and it is not easy to stop him. 

Now that we got Jack’s symptoms out of the way let’s move on to causes. 

Most mental health professionals believe that borderline personality disorder (BPD) is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, such as traumatic experiences in childhood.

...

Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.

Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.

Let’s start with Jack’s genetics. If you saw my last post about Jack, it was wondering if Jack’s grandmother was a bandit and/or psycho due to her buzz axe. It is very possible that Jack’s grandmother and mother also suffer with some mental illness. 

Onto the stressful childhood. Grandma’s buzz axe which was a disciplinary weapon she used on Jack, and in The Pre-Sequel, Jack is asked to describe his childhood which he says his mother abandoned him on his abusive grandmother who would smack him around. He also had a pet cat that his grandma drowned because he didn’t make his bed. He cites this as “the usual stuff” 

Jack has both genetics and environmental factors that can lead to someone having mental disorders. 

Jack’s drug use and drinking would aid in making his BPD symptoms much worse as well.

So...yeah, there’s my Jack analysis.

[onlycompassionstopsabuse-blog]

Signs and Symptoms of Developmental Trauma/CPTSD (childhood abuse)

Difficulties in regulating emotions- Uncontrollable mood swings, persistent sadness and depression, explosive or inhibited anger, being easily triggered by external events and not able to manage the emotions that surge up.

Chronic Shame - A persistent sense defectiveness— the feeling that one is disgusting, ugly, stupid, or basically flawed. This may involve thoughts such as ‘nothing I do is good enough’, ‘there is something fundamentally wrong with me’, ‘I am bad and toxic’. Such extreme self- hatred may lead to suicidal thoughts and self-harming behaviours.  

Disconnection and Isolation- Because people who experience early trauma had not felt welcomed into the world, connection (with both themselves and others) becomes a core struggle. They may feel a sense of isolation, of being completely different from other human beings. They simultaneously have an intense need for and an extreme fear of contact.

Feeling ungrounded and powerless- Many People who suffer from developmental trauma constantly feel ungrounded and un-centered in their bodies. They may feel like frightened children living in adult bodies. Many get overwhelmed easily; when things happen, they easily feel close to breaking down.

Hopelessness and Despair - Chronically traumatised individuals feel hopeless about finding anyone who can understand them. Many lose a sense of meaning in life, struggle to sustain faith, and live with a lingering sense of despondency.

Nameless Dread/ Hyper-Vigilance - By being chronically traumatised, their nervous system remain in a continual state of high arousal, which reinforces the persistent feeling of threat. Many feel that they cannot relax, and have to always be looking out for danger. They may be irritable and jumpy, suffer from insomnia, and other anxiety-related disorders and obsessive- compulsive tendencies.

Numbness and Emptiness - Because the repeated abuse or neglect was so painful, many have employed dissociation as a way of coping. This may involve disconnection from the bodily self, emotions, and other people. By keeping threat from overwhelming consciousness, they can continue to function in the outside world, but is left with a chronic feeling of internal deadness.

From http://www.eggshelltherapy.com/sensitivity-and-childhood-trauma/

[hinaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

Character 3 Idea

Gin used to go to an academy for witches in order to hone her skills. She showed potential and she liked the praise and attention, and she even enjoyed showing off her powerful magic. But people largely misunderstood her, and despite her efforts, she could not make any friends. She might have had powerful magic, but she lacked any other skills, especially social skills. People just weren’t interested in getting to know her. She felt angry that no one cared for her, and angry that she felt lonely and dedicated herself to improving her magic. Her feelings of anger grew stronger and so did her isolation. Being in crowds angered her and she often became irritated and frustrated in the company of other people. One day, she ran away and disappeared into the wastes, and built a house of nightmares and terrors to stop anyone from getting in. She has lived in peaceful seclusion for a long time. Until people began attempting to conquer the horrors of the house, deeming it a monster to be vanquished. Gin just wants peace and will make them fear her.

Gin is cynical, angry, bitter, unkind and ruthless but also sensitive, hard-working and dedicated. If there is something she believes in, she will not back down from it. While she has no problems with terrifying others, and prefers people to be afraid of her, she has no intentions of causing injury or death.  

Gin thinks she doesn’t need anyone. She wants to be alone because she is judgemental of others and believes the worst of people. She has her little shadow friends and monsters but they are more like an extension of herself, the magic that she controls come to life. They understand that she wants to feel a real connection and understanding with someone so they talk to her, but she can control them (its like talking to yourself) and so she continues to scare people away and keep a barrier up- even with herself. What she needs is to be less judgemental and kinder, and for someone to prove her wrong about other people. Her monsters become fed up with her unkindness and disappear. She can still bend the house to her will, but the company of the monsters and her shadow magic have gone. She realises that she needs to apologise and work on becoming a better person- which starts with an apology to herself. She opens up to herself and stops lying to herself that she wants to be alone.  

An external problem could be that people are trying to destroy her house. They are trying to tear down and defeat the very thing she cares for. They want to destroy her sanctuary which angers her, but no matter how much she tries to scare them off they will not leave. She overcomes this problem by forcing herself to go and communicate properly, face-to-face. The destroying of her home is yet another case of being misunderstood, only this time there is some truth that she has become a bit of a monster.  

Gin goes from being a social recluse who hates people to someone who learns to be more open, less judgmental and tries to find the good in people. She still has a negative outlook on life but tries to surround herself with positive things and people that have a good influence on her. She still enjoys spending a lot of time alone, but learns to let a few people into her life again who can support her. She returns to the city when she is ready to and will get a job where she does not have to interact with people as much.

Her flaw is that she misunderstands others the way that they misunderstand her and then push people away, refuses to show any form of weakness and lashes out to make others fear her, so that she feels some grain of power. She even treats herself this way, by pushing away parts of herself and convincing herself that she is happy enough by herself in the wastes (she is not). While she does have strong magic, she is both physically and mentally weak and often crumbles under pressure.  

At her lowest moment, she is truly alone and does not even have the full potential of her magic to defend herself from people trying to tear down her sanctuary and ultimately defeat her. She is alone and terrified and furious, but mostly desperate and struggling. In her complete loneliness, she comes to the reluctant realisation that she will have to listen to what she really wants instead of suppressing it and challenge herself to be more open in order to get it (meaningful social connection). She leaves her room and explores the house, searching for the monsters and magic, and making a genuine apology and expressing the desire to make amends and become a better person. With her full potential restored, she has the courage to come face to face with the people invading her sanctuary. She confronts them about their actions and defends herself by saying that she has not hurt or killed anyone and the house out in the wastes is not infringing on anyone. When they refuse to understand her, she kicks them out the only way she knows how to (using her magic). While the thrill of their screams lifts her mood, she still feels discouraged and her monsters talk to her to make her feel better. She reluctantly agrees and returns to her room. However, while the social interaction was a bit of a failure, she experienced it and she wants to do it again. She becomes restless as no one comes into her house and eventually reconnects with her parents. From there, she slowly returns to her old life, only this time she is determined to be a better person.  

What world does the character live in?

A world of magic and witches. Gin lives in the wastelands, where nothing lives or grows, in order to escape social interaction.

What do they want / what gives them their drive?

She wants to be left alone. Deep down, although she hates to admit it, she just wants friendship and for someone to understand and connect with her.

What is an external problem or challenge for the character?

People have decided to destroy the house and see it as a monster to defeat, but they are breaking down the thing she cares for that she feels has kept her safe.

What is an internal problem for the character - ie. character flaw?

She doesn’t like people and has a very cynical worldview.

What’s a special skill or ability that the character discovers, possesses or develops? (this can be a physical or mental skill)

She has powerful magic and can bend the house to her will. She is also very stubborn.

How will the character overcome their external challenge, and how will they overcome or manage their internal problem?

At first, she tries to scare the adventurers away but they are determined to vanquish the house. She tries ramping up her scariness but no matter how shaken, they keep going. In her rage, she becomes irritated by everything- including the monsters and magic that keeps her company. They decide not to speak with her and disappear and this makes her anxious as she can not make herself or the house as terrifying as before. She ends up apologising and trying to become a better person and change her worldview and then summons the courage to talk to the adventurers and show herself. By overcoming her internal problem and worldviews of cynicism, she is able to overcome the adventurers trying to destroy her house. 

[nexlance]

Adolescent Depression: causes, symptoms, treatment, and Parental Communication

Adolescence is a time of transition, and it is "natural" for adolescents to be moody, irritable, lonely. As a result, depression in teenagers is often misdiagnosed or merely due to normal teenage behavior. The stresses of everyday life are also having a negative impact on our young teens. Take a look at the numbers below and be astounded. Figures dont lie, and they are also the perfect way to highlight those details that, when introduced to the general public's attention, leave a permanent impression. It is important to capture the interest of someone who wishes to hear more about what the numbers are showing. There is no wonder that numbers are nothing more than concrete concepts with the potential to sway even the most cynical of minds, and it would even offer the young generation the real picture when it comes to teenage depression. Twenty Percent Of Teenagers Are Sufferers The first thing that will make you wake up and take notes of adolescent depression rates is the fact that almost one-fifth of the adolescent population of the United States has undergone a degree of psychiatric depression before reaching full adulthood. Not just that, but ten to fifteen percent of adolescents have signs of adolescent depression, while another five percent of the adolescent population has suffered from major depression. Second, another concerning feature of adolescent depression is the lack of social acceptance for adolescents with such an illness, and what's worst is that as many as 8% of teenagers would have witnessed the recurrence of depression at least once a year. This is concerning because depression affects just 5% of the national population. adolescent depression usually lasts for eight months. Teenagers are now at risk of having another bout of adolescent depression within two years, with the chances of this happening ranging from twenty to forty percent, and there is also a seventy percent chance that they will have another bout of adolescent depression. Third, a common characteristic of adolescence depression is that many teens experience seasonal depression. This form of depression is most common during the winter, but it can also be seen in areas of high altitudes. And the weather may play a role in the onset of seasonal depression, so teens must be mindful of these social influences on their mental health. Fourth, other data on adolescent depression show that dysthymia, or a moderate type of depression that persists for a long time, affects around 2% of adolescents, and a similar number of teenagers are more likely to develop bipolar depression as they get older. Indeed, it is estimated that up to 15% of teens who have had major depression are at risk of experiencing bipolar depression later in life. As a result, it is fair to conclude that adolescent depression can impact adolescents regardless of their socioeconomic status, economic class, ethnicity, ethnicity, or accomplishments, and that adolescent depression is a very serious mental health condition affecting teens in the United States. There are some prominent early signs of adolescent depression. If you think your underage child is troubled, you must get treatment urgently.

Adolescent Depression Different Than Adult Depression?

Depression is a mood disease in which people feel depressed, withdrawn, lose confidence in what is going on around them, have learning difficulties, and can even commit suicide. Depressive symptoms are normal, and most people will experience them at some stage in their life even though they are not diagnosed with depression. Men have a lifetime prevalence of depression ranging from 5% to 12%, whereas women have a prevalence ranging from 10% to 25%. Severe depression ranked fourth in terms of disease dysfunction and related risk factors in 1990. Depression is expected to rate second only to heart disease as a concern by the year 2020. Depression has also been attributed to an elevated risk of cancer, respiratory failure, immune dysfunction, allergies, migraine, insomnia, infectious disease, and suicide. The body responds similarly to depression and stress. Corticosteroids are hormones that are produced when a person is stressed or depressed. Cortisol levels in the adrenal glands rise and remain elevated during depression, affecting long-term memory. Individuals suffering from depression include increased development in the hypothalamus, pituitary gland, and adrenal glands. Long-term stress has been linked to a decline in hypothalamus volume. The hypothalamus is in charge of processing input from the autonomic nervous system and controlling feeding, sexual activity, sleep habits, impulses, and hormone secretion. People who have had repeated bouts of depression have irregular electroencephalograph sleep cycles. Enlarged ventricles and greater cerebral atrophy have been observed in depressive patients with psychotic characteristics. Adolescent depression can show itself in a variety of ways. Adolescents and infants, according to the DSM-IV-TR, exhibit more irritability, social withdrawal, and somatic complaints. Displays of melancholy and psychomotor retardation, as seen in people with depressive disorders, are not common in teenagers. Adolescent depression, on the other hand, may be characterized by frustration, confusion, exhaustion, and lack of interest in usually pleasurable activities. Another characteristic of teen depression is that it affects both boys and girls equally. Because of the presenting signs, adolescent depression is impossible to diagnose. Other conditions, such as Conduct Disorder, Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, and Anxiety, are often associated with the disorder. There are two forms of depression. Shyness, fear, worrying behavior, and avoidance are all correlated with internalizing style. Externalizing personality is linked to substance addiction and behavior disorder. A variety of studies have associated depression and other psychosocial factors to adult pain perception. It stands to reason that depression, or symptoms of depression, will be found in teenagers who are in distress. Adolescents' sense of well-being has been attributed to low back and mid-back pain. Adolescents and children who have back pain complain that their health is bad and that they are unhappy. Physical fitness is a major indicator of depression in youth, both now and in the future. In addition, physical disorder is linked to depression.

Warning signs and symptoms Of Adolescent Depression

Poor or fluctuating grades in school, disappointment in school or at work, and a sense of inability to achieve expectations are all red flags. Withdrawal from friends, family, and hobbies is another possibility. They will become more isolated as time goes by. They can show signs of depression, hopelessness, and a lack of motivation/enthusiasm. Their self-esteem may range from poor to non-existent. They may be unable to focus, make decisions, or miss things sometimes. Changes of sleep and appetite are possible. They can become irritable, irritated, and anxious as a result. They can become addicted to substances (self-medicate), depressed, or obsessed with death. When the adolescent exhibits some of these symptoms, continue to speak to them, even if it's just to let them know you're there for them, and get treatment right away. There are some indicators that a person is suffering from adolescent depression. Changes in appetite, changes in sleep schedule, lack of interest in usually common sports, irritability and often irrational response to anger, and, last but not least, declarations of depression are among the signs. Changes in appetite or eating habits are a typical and very strong indicator of teenage depression. In reality, it is one of the primary symptoms. More specifically, the signs can include eating too much, eating too little, or not eating at all for an extended period of time. These symptoms of teenage depression should not be confused with those with an eating disorder. However, these main signs may also turn into more neurotic habits, particularly as the patient begins to feel better following a diet shift. Changes in sleep and sleep schedule, including changes of appetite or feeding pattern, are symptoms of teenage depression, but the behaviour varies from person to person. Nonetheless, a significant shift in sleep habits with no apparent cause should be regarded as a fairly solid and not-to-be-ignored warning sign. Another well-known symptom of teenage depression is a rapid and unexplained decline in involvement in previously favored hobbies. It's not the same as when a child outgrows a passion of a certain game. If your child enjoys a sport and suddenly decides not to participate during the season, you should be concerned. It may be a symptom of teenage depression. Another red flag, which is difficult to ignore, is when the child becomes enraged frequently or overreacts to his or her own annoyance. This may be more than just a case of more or less anticipated adolescent rebelliousness. However, distinguishing between typical juvenile misbehavior and depression-driven misbehavior requires the expertise of a trained and experienced healthcare professional. There is no such thing as a single symptom of depression. It's still a slew of symptoms. When your child expresses despair, it may only be a terrible hair day, so if you've recently encountered any of the above symptoms of stress, it's time to take action. Call your doctor and brace yourself and your family for a bumpy trip.

Adolescent Depression - Causes and Best Treatment Options Available

Adolescent depression is a form of depression that may develop during adolescence. This form of depression is characterized by a lack of confidence, feelings of worthlessness, persistent disappointment, and discouragement, among other negative emotions. You can't tell whether an adolescent will get sad or not; often it can be predicted, but in most situations, it can be kept silent before anything happens. It is important to treat teen depression until it worsens, which could happen at any moment. You must address the issue as soon as you know you are stressed or your adolescent is depressed. It might not be an easy problem to solve, but you have to start somewhere. Adolescent depression may be a teenager's acute reaction to such conditions or even normal stress, but it may also be a condition that they may recover from for years if they are not supported. When it comes to adolescents, depression is often caused by: - Arguments of independence from parents - a lack of liberty (in their minds). - The normal maturing mechanism, as well as the tension and worry that it entails. - Sexual hormones may play a significant role in depression. Adolescent depression can also be a transient response to upsetting circumstances that may escalate to a lasting situation, such as: - Failing school - Being the victim of bullying - Death of a relative or a close friend - A sad breakup with a partner Teenagers with poor self-esteem, those who are very critical of themselves, and those who believe they have little or no influence over such stressful experiences are at risk of depression. It is also well recognized that teenage girls are more likely than teenage boys to feel depression while they are going through a tough time. Any of the risk factors are as follows: - Unstable care giving - Weak social skills - Chronic illnesses - Sexual, mental and physical child abuse - Genetic depression - family history of the disorder - Parental loss due to divorce or death, as well as other traumatic life activities Any eating disorders, such as anorexia and bulimia, have been linked to adolescent depression.. Treatments It is important to rule out any physical illnesses first, such as hypothyroidism or anemia. Depression should be considered after all physical causes have been ruled out. The below are some treatments for teenage depression: When pursuing care for teenage depression, psychotherapy may be the first choice. Talk counseling attempts to help the troubled adolescent to improve their way of thinking. They will be taught more reasonable ways to solve their problems, as well as how to develop their interpersonal and social skills. Medication - Antidepressants are often used for children, but with great caution. This is due to a lack of knowledge on the long-term impact of antidepressants on teenagers. Antidepressant side effects can cause children under the age of 21 to have suicidal thoughts or even attempt suicide, necessitating hospitalization. Alternative treatments such as acupuncture, acupressure, and specifically tailored fitness plans can be beneficial to teenagers suffering from depression. Before adopting any new treatments, consult with your child's doctor. Herbal supplements are completely safe and have far less, if any, side effects than antidepressants. Check with your child's doctor whether he or she is on any medications for any health issues. The herbs are not dangerous; however, they can diminish the potency of certain prescription drugs, putting your child at risk.

Coping With Adolescent Depression

Adolescent depression is highly common and can develop in children who will never feel it again. Then, what happens? It is popular for a variety of purposes. For instance, teenage hormone levels undergo drastic modifications and differences. Hormone fluctuations can disrupt a person's mental health. Technically, the condition is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. When chemicals or hormones get out of balance, a person becomes depressed. Adolescents are most likely to undergo the emotions when their hormones shift often.. Children are still suffering a great deal of tension. To an adult who may not have children, this will seem to be a humorous joke. They do, after all, have their whole life ahead of them. They have little commitments and are at a point in their lives where they will have a good time. Regrettably, this is not completely right. Teenagers are continually subjected to social pressure. They are pushed to be slim, to dress well, and to use drugs and alcohol. Any of these stresses, particularly drug and alcohol pressures, are difficult for a teenager to cope with. Drugs and alcohol are depressants, and if a teenager continues to use them, he or she can develop depression. Loss is another cause. When a loved one dies, it is common for a person to feel depression. This trigger isn't just for teens. What Should You Do? Unfortunately, there isn't anything you can do to influence a teenager's hormones or reaction to social pressure. What you should do is speak to your kid about social pressure before they reach the age of adolescence. Describe what it is and how to deal with it. Keep a good watch on your infant as well. They may be depressed if they have severe mood swings or begin to behave abnormally. It may also be a warning if they become socially isolated and refuse to hang out with their mates. Maintain a constant line of contact with your kids. This will assist you with understanding how they are feeling. If you or your kid suspects they are sad, take them to a mental health provider right away. You should begin by speaking with a school counselor. A school psychologist may be able to assist them in coping with their hormones and social pressure. However, if the emotions are more intense, you can see a therapist. Trained therapists are well equipped to treat teenage depression..

Adolescent Depression and Parent Communication

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com It is self-evident that puberty is a time of accelerated growth. The child's social responsibility extends into the home, and peer relationships tend to take precedence. Simultaneously, molecular changes are taking place, resulting in bursts of physical and academic development. It's no surprise that so many teenagers report feeling anxious and pressured. Despite the above causes, most teenagers adapt to maturity without incident and grow up to be well-adjusted adults. In particular, study over the last ten years suggests that roughly 80% of all teenagers achieve maturity without major difficulties. Many of the remaining 20% face transition challenges as a result of a variety of reasons such as family conflicts, peer interactions, and educational pressures. For others, the end result is sadness, and normal development is halted. Depression in puberty resembles adult depression. The adolescent is filled with depression, hopelessness, and a lack of interest in a brighter future. Eating and sleeping habits may change; friendships and family relationships may suffer; and school grades may begin to fall. In certain circumstances, the stress subsides and life resumes normalcy. However, if depression persists, the adolescent's life trajectory will be permanently changed, leading to school failure, drug misuse, and an unstable adult lifestyle. Fortunately, parents may take a variety of measures to assist their teen in overcoming stress and returning to normal functioning. To begin, it is critical to understand the improvements in the teen's biochemistry predispose them to emotional control issues. As a result, juvenile populations experience emotional extremes more often than infant or adult populations. Some days can feel like a roller coaster of emotional highs and lows. As a result, adults can become irritated and impatient when a teenager expresses his or her feelings. Second, it is critical to recognize that these emotional responses are very genuine, and that often just listening can be extremely beneficial to the teen. For example, when teenagers are so dependent on their peers, the absence of a best friend or first girlfriend is always viewed as tragic. And parents who are sympathetic to their teen's sadness may grow impatient as the teen's storms of crying, sleepless nights, and sullen demeanor disrupt the family environment. However, if parents are not present, teens can find another person to speak to. Someone else is usually another teenager who lacks the loyalty, empathy, and intelligence needed to be genuinely helpful. Furthermore, as hidden confidantes become Facebook comments, trust problems often emerge. Parents wield considerable strength. Read the full article

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COGNITIVE ASSESSMENT.

bold all that apply to your muse’s current mental state; italicize any that apply to your muse’s past mental state — repost don’t reblog !

alcoholism: or alcohol use disorder ( aud ), is a broad term for any drinking of alcohol that results in mental or physical health problems.

amnesia: a deficit in memory caused by brain damage, disease, or psychological trauma.

anxiety: a mental health disorder characterized by feelings of worry, anxiety, or fear that are strong enough to interfere with one’s daily activities.

appetite loss: a reduced desire to eat.

binge eating: a psychological illness characterized by frequently eating excessive amounts of food, often when not hungry.

co-dependence: dysfunctional and maladaptive relationship reliant on another person’s dependence on the affected individual.

cynicism: an inclination to believe that people are motivated purely by self interest ( scepticism ), or to question whether something will happen or whether it is worthwhile ( pessimism ).

defensiveness: the tendency to be sensitive to comments and criticism and to deny them. to constantly protect oneself from criticism, exposure of one’s shortcomings, or other real or perceived threats to the go.

depersonalization: a state in which one’s thoughts and feelings seem unreal or not belonging to oneself.

depression: a mental health disorder characterized by persistently depressed mood or loss of interest in activities, causing significant impairment in daily life.

derealization: alteration in the perception or experience of the external world so that it seems unreal.

devaluation: defense mechanism used when a person attributes themselves, an object, or another person as completely flawed, worthless, or as having exaggerated negative qualities.

displacement: an unconscious defense mechanism whereby the mind substitutes either a new aim or a new object or goals felt in their original form to be dangerous or unacceptable.

dissociation: is any state of a wide array of experiences from mild detachment from immediate surroundings to more severe detachment from physical and emotional experiences, such as a disconnect from reality.

drug abuse: the extreme desire to obtain, and use, increasing amounts of one or more substances.

dysphoria: a state of unease, or generalized dissatisfaction with life.

emotional detachment: an inability to connect with others on an emotional level, as well as coping with anxiety by avoiding certain situations that trigger it; it is often described as “ emotional numbing ” or dissociation.

flashbacks: an involuntary recurrent memory, is a psychological phenomenon in which an individual has sudden, usually powerful, re-experiencing of a past experience or elements of said experience.

flat effect: a severe reduction in emotional expressiveness. they may not show the signs of normal emotion, perhaps may speak in a monotonous voice, have diminished facial expressions, and appear extremely apathetic.

guilt: a cognitive or emotional experience that occurs when a person believes or realises — accurately or not — that they have compromised their own standards of conduct or have violated a universal moral standard and bear significant responsibility for it.

hallucinations: an experience involving the apparent perception of something not present.

hypersomnia: or excessive sleepiness, is a condition in which a person has trouble staying awake during the day.

hypervigilance: an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity accompanied by an exaggerated intensity of behaviors whose purpose is to detect activity.

hypochondria: ( also known as illness anxiety disorder ) is a condition in which a person is inordinately worried about having a serious illness.

idealization: the action of regarding or representing something as perfect or better than reality.

insomnia: a sleep disorder where people have trouble sleeping. they may have difficulty falling asleep, or staying asleep as long as desired. insomnia is usually followed by daytime sleepiness, low energy, and a depressed mood.

intellectualization: a defense mechanism by which reasoning is used to block confrontation with an unconscious conflict and its associated emotional stress — where thinking is used to avoid feeling. it involves removing one’s self, emotionally, from a stressful event.

introjection: regarded as the process where the subject replicates in themselves behaviours, attributes, or other fragments of the surrounding world, especially of other subjects. cognate concepts include identification, incorporation, and internalization.

isolation: a defense mechanism in psychoanalytic theory characterized by individuals defending themselves from possible threats by mentally and physically isolating themselves. by minimizing associative connections with other thoughts, the threatening cognition is remembered less often and is less likely to affect self-esteem or the self concept.

low self esteem: a person with low self esteem feels unworthy, incapable, and incompetent.

narcissism: is the pursuit of gratification from vanity or egotistic admiration of one’s own attributes. narcissistic personality disorder ( npd ) is a personality disorder in which there is a long term pattern of abnormal behaviour characterized by exaggerated feelings of self importance, an excessive need for admiration, and a lack of understanding of other’s feelings.

night terrors: also known as a sleep terror, is a sleep disorder, causing feelings of terror or dread, and typically occurs during the first hours of stage three to four rapid eye movement ( nrem ) sleep.

obsessive compulsion: obsessive-compulsive disorder ( ocd ) is a common, chromic, and long — lasting disorder in which a person has uncontrollable, reoccurring thoughts ( obsessions ) and behaviours ( compulsions ) that they feel the urge to repeat over and over.

panic attacks: a sudden overwhelming feeling of acute and debilitating anxiety.

passive aggression: a tendency to engage in indirect expression of hostility through acts such as subtle insults, sullen behavior, stubbornness, or a deliberate failure to accomplish a required task.

paranoia: the irrational and persistent feeling that people are “ out to get you. ” the three main types of paranoia include paranoid personality disorder, delusional disorder, and paranoid schizophrenia.

phobias: an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something.

projection: psychological projection is a defense mechanism people subconsciously employ in order to cope with difficult feelings or emotions. it involves projecting undesirable feelings or emotions onto someone else, rather than admitting to or dealing with the unwanted feelings.

psychosis: a severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.

rationalization: a defense mechanism in which controversial behaviors or feelings are justified and explained in a seemingly rational or logical manner to avoid the true explanation, and are made consciously tolerable — or even admirable and superior — by plausible means.

regression: a psychological defense mechanism in which a person abandons age — appropriate coping strategies in favor of earlier, more childlike patterns of behavior. this regression is a form of retreat, bringing back a time when the person feels safe and taken care of.

risky sex: risky sexual behavior is commonly defined as behavior that increases the probability of contracting sexually transmitted infections, diseases, becoming pregnant, or making a partner pregnant. drug use is associated with risky sexual behavior.

somatization: the manifestation of psychological distress by the presentation of bodily symptoms.

splitting: ( also called black — and — white thinking or all — or — nothing thinking ) is the failure in a person’s thinking to bring together the dichotomy of both positive and negative qualities of the self and others into a cohesive, realistic whole.

sublimation: is a mature type of defense mechanism, in which socially unacceptable impulses or idealizations are unconsciously transformed into socially acceptable actions or behavior, possibly resulting in a long — term conversion of the initial impulse.

suicidal ideation: ( also known as suicidal thoughts ) is thinking about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide. the range of suicidal ideation varies from fleeting thoughts, to extensive thoughts, to detailed planning, roleplaying, and incomplete attempts.

sleepwalking: formally known as somnambulism, is a behaviour disorder that originates during deep sleep and results in walking or performing other complex behaviours while asleep. it is more common in children than adults and is more likely to occur if a person is sleep deprived.

suppression: the act of stopping oneself from thinking or feeling something. it is generally assumed ineffective because even if you suppress or hold back an emotion, like anger, that feeling returns with a vengeance.

temper: a reflection of irritation or rage, a propensity to be angered rapidly.

thousand yard stare: a phrase often used to describe the blank, unfocused gaze of soldiers who have become emotionally detached from the horrors around them. it is also sometimes used more generally to describe the look of dissociation among victims of other types of trauma.

triggers: something that sets off a memory tape or flashback transporting the person back to the event of their emotional trauma. triggers are very personal ; different things can trigger different people. the survivor may begin to avoid situations and stimuli that they think triggered the flashback.

trust issues: a person with these kinds of thoughts may construct social barriers as a defense mechanism to ensure that trust is not lost again. these barriers are often a person’s way of avoid the pain, rejection, or guilt associated with mistrust.

violence: the intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, against oneself, another person, or against a group or community, which either results in or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, psychological harm, maldevelopment, or deprivation.

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