#i'm frustrated that i couldn't TALK about it or discuss it without hitting a wall

[the-oblivious-writer]

We Can Work it Out

Nadja of Antipaxos x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Your tumultuous relationship with Nadja hits a breaking point over a blood-stained sweater - but the real issue runs much deeper.

Warning(s): Mild blood mentions, arguing, alcohol consumption, themes of immortality and mortality, mild possessiveness, references to past relationship trauma, and some mildly suggestive content

Notes: I love women who could kill me.

The tension in the house has been building for days, like storm clouds gathering before a tempest. You've been walking on eggshells around each other, every interaction charged with unspoken grievances. It's the little things that finally ignite the powder keg - a casually dismissed concern, a forgotten promise, the way she pretends not to hear you when she's annoyed.

Tonight, it's the blood stains on your favorite sweater.

"For the last time," Nadja says, examining her nails with exaggerated indifference, "I don't see why you're making such a fuss. It's just clothing."

"That's not the point and you know it." You're trying to keep your voice level, but frustration bleeds through. "You borrowed it without asking, and then you didn't even try to clean it."

She looks up sharply, dark eyes flashing. "Oh, I'm sorry, shall I file a formal request in triplicate next time I want to borrow something from my own lover? Perhaps schedule an appointment with Guillermo to discuss the proper protocols?"

"Don't do that." You cross your arms, matching her stance. "Don't turn this into a joke. You've been doing this for weeks - taking my things, leaving them wherever, acting like I'm being unreasonable when I get upset."

"Unreasonable?" She rises from her chair, her movements fluid but tense. "You want to talk about unreasonable? Let's discuss how you've been spending more and more time with the humans at your work. Coming home late, smelling like their cheap wine and cheaper perfume."

The accusation catches you off guard. "Those are my friends."

"Friends," she spits the word like it tastes bad. "Yes, your precious human friends who get to see you in the daylight, who don't have to worry about accidentally killing you every time they get too… passionate."

Understanding dawns slowly. "Is that what this is about? You're worried I'm going to leave you for someone human?"

"Don't be absurd," she snaps, but her eyes dart away. "I couldn't care less what you do. I've had countless lovers over the centuries. You're just another brief chapter in a very long book."

The words sting, designed to wound, and they hit their mark. "Well, if I'm so insignificant, why do you keep marking my clothes with blood? Making sure everyone can smell you on my things?"

She whirls to face you, suddenly close enough that you can see the faint flush of her last meal coloring her cheeks. "Because they should know you're mine!"

The confession hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications neither of you is ready to address. You take a step back, needing distance to think clearly.

"I can't be yours if you don't trust me," you say quietly.

"Trust?" She laughs, but it's a brittle sound. "Trust is for humans and fools. I've been betrayed by enough lovers to fill a graveyard."

"I'm not them."

"No," she agrees, something softer flickering across her face before the walls come back up. "You're much more annoying."

You shouldn't smile at that, but you almost do. Almost. Instead, you gather your keys and jacket.

"Where are you going?" There's an edge of panic in her voice that she doesn't quite manage to hide.

"Out." You pause at the door, not looking back. "I need some air. Some human air, with my human friends. Don't wait up."

"Fine!" she shouts after you. "Go! See if I care! But don't expect me to be here when you return!"

You close the door behind you, knowing she's lying. She'll be there - she always is, no matter how many times she threatens to leave. The question is whether you're both ready to have the conversation you've been avoiding.

But that's a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, you need space to think about immortal lovers and mortal fears, about trust and time and the weight of centuries. Behind you, through the closed door, you hear the distinct sound of something expensive shattering against a wall.

Some things never change.

Three drinks in, you're starting to think maybe spite-drinking wasn't your best idea. The bar is too loud, your friends' sympathetic looks are too knowing, and every dark-haired woman in your peripheral vision makes your heart stutter before you realize it's not her.

"Boy trouble?" the bartender asks, sliding another drink your way.

You laugh, a bit too sharply. "Vampire trouble."

He chuckles, assuming you're joking. If only he knew.

"Y/N?"

You turn at the familiar voice, nearly toppling off your barstool. Guillermo stands there, looking uncomfortable in his civilian clothes, a stake poorly concealed under his jacket.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, then immediately answer your own question: "She sent you to spy on me."

"Actually," he adjusts his glasses nervously, "Nandor sent me to get his favorite blood wine. But, uh, Nadja did ask me to make sure you hadn't been eaten by werewolves. Or run off with a human. Her words, not mine."

"I'm perfectly capable of not getting eaten on my own," you declare, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you wobble standing up.

Your friends exchange looks. "Maybe you should let him take you home," one suggests.

"I'm not going home," you insist. "I'm making a point."

Guillermo sighs that long-suffering sigh you've heard him use with Nandor. "The point's been made. She's been pacing for hours, hissing at anyone who comes near your room. I think she broke three of Laszlo's antique vases."

"Good." But you're already gathering your things, letting him guide you toward the door. Your friends wave goodbye, looking relieved.

The cool night air helps clear your head a little, but walking proves trickier than expected. Guillermo keeps a steadying hand on your elbow.

"You know," he says carefully, "she's not great at showing it, but she really cares about you. In her own… terrifying way."

"She has a funny way of showing it."

"Yeah, well, she's been alive for hundreds of years. Old habits die hard." He pauses. "Sometimes literally."

You're quiet for a moment, watching your breath fog in the cold air. "She thinks I'm going to leave her for someone human."

"Can you blame her? Humans are kind of her whole thing. Well, that and violent revenge."

You snort. "I hadn't noticed."

The house looms ahead, dark and gothic as ever. Light flickers in your bedroom window - candles, probably. Nadja's been on a kick about 'proper vampire ambiance' lately.

"Good luck," Guillermo whispers, helping you up the steps. "Try not to get turned into a bat."

You're barely through the door when you feel her presence - that distinct pressure in the air that means an angry vampire is nearby. She materializes at the top of the stairs, looking equal parts furious and relieved.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, descending with deliberate slowness. "Look what the familiar dragged in."

"I was just leaving," Guillermo says quickly, but Nadja's already dismissed him from her attention.

She stalks closer, nostrils flaring. "You reek of cheap alcohol and humans."

"Yeah? Well, you reek of…" you sway slightly, trying to think of a good comeback. "Centuries of emotional unavailability."

Something that might be amusement flickers across her face before she smooths it away. "At least I'm not drunk in my enemy's arms."

"Guillermo's not my enemy."

"He stakes vampires for a living!"

"Only the bad ones!" you hear him call from the other room.

Nadja shoots a glare in that direction, then turns back to you. She's close enough now that you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her hands keep clenching and unclenching at her sides. You wonder if she's been waiting by the window all night, watching for you.

"You're swaying," she says finally, her voice softer than before.

"The room's spinning a bit."

"Foolish human," she mutters, but her arm slides around your waist, surprisingly gentle. "Come. Before you fall and crack your skull open. Though at least then I wouldn't have to listen to more of your ridiculous accusations."

You let her guide you toward the stairs, too tired and dizzy to maintain your anger. "We still need to talk about this."

"Yes, yes, more talking. Humans and their endless need to discuss everything to death." But her grip tightens protectively as you stumble on the first step. "Tomorrow. When you're sober and I'm less likely to turn you into a vampire out of sheer frustration."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

She doesn't answer, but you feel her smile against your hair - small, reluctant, but real. The argument isn't over, not by a long shot. But maybe, just maybe, you're both ready to start having the conversation you need to have.

After you sleep off these drinks. And maybe after she replaces your sweater.

"I heard that thought," she says darkly. "And I'll have you know that blood stains are very fashionable among vampires."

Some things really never do change.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

i’ve been trying to put my thoughts into words for a while and i think i might have something.  this is based on nothing but my own experience, and invokes pretty much nothing but my own emotions, so read it or ignore it i don’t care whatever.

because truly... honestly.... if there is a canonically queer character and people are taking it and using it to explore different QUEER identities i just straight up don’t feel the need to care.  like it does not matter to me if you 100% retain the make-up of it’s canonical identity or not.  when people say that rep HAS to remain static and ONLY one tiny subset of queer people can write their own experience into the character and anyone who doesn’t do it exactly as it’s written is “stealing” that representation... it’s splitting hairs, man. 

i've said before that i can’t change canon.  because it’s... true.  that’s why it’s a transformative work, that’s why it’s FANon.  the fact that i can see myself in a character that isn’t 100% like me and i then use my own ‘bias’ for lack of a better word--it isn’t a bad thing.  i think it’s actually healthier to see more similarities than differences, because we’re stronger when we’re working together.  the queer community is so divisive these days and i just... don’t care for it.  i spent so long fighting truscum and transmeds and exclusionists and radfems and terfs and it’s exhausting.  so if someone is using different pronouns for a character, idgaf.  they have their reasons.  if it really rankles me i’ll curate my own experience. 

the real meat of this whole thing, i feel, is the fact that people contextualize canonical queer representation as “ownership”.  when a gay character appears in media, the gay community ‘claims’ them.  the problem, then, is that while you can claim a character in canon, you can’t really claim ownership over the way someone else experiences that character.  you can’t take an experience away from someone just because you don’t vibe with it.  not in a “oh i’m gatekeeping you’re not ALLOWED to do that” way--more in that you literally can’t scoop out someone’s memories.  so you may see yourself in canon, and that’s fine, we all understand that part, that’s not the problem.  but if someone who is different from you ALSO sees themself in canon, but maybe in a different way or through a different lens... well, you can’t really say they’re wrong, because you have no control over how they are experiencing something and also no idea what it is they DO see.

which sounds like a whole lot of meta nonsense, really, but it’s something that a lot of people talk about.  the whole “if a book has been read by a hundred people then there are a hundred versions of that book” idea comes to mind.  and also... fandom is SO varied.  people use it for SO many different reasons.  if i’m over here writing found family fics and someone else is writing PWP they aren’t “stealing” the found family from me.  two things can exist simultaneously.  and if, for instance, it’s hard to find canon stories that scratch EITHER of those itches i’m not going to get mad at the PWP writer for taking a canon about found family and using it to write smut.  because the found family still exists.  it isn’t an override.  existing in a different way does not automatically disrespect someone else.  ESPECIALLY when, after we peel off the metaphor, we’re talking about two people who are using two slightly different flavors of genderqueer non-gendered pronouns.  we REALLY have more in common than we do different, and i would be proud to share a character that could fulfill both of our needs at once in slightly different ways.  like... forget for a moment that i’m talking about murderbot, and imagine i’m talking about uhhhh *spins wheel* *spins wheel again* *spins wheel a third time* i’m actually seriously blanking on any they/them characters not in tmd right now.  i thought that one character in oitnb was non-binary but the wiki just uses she/her and i’m not going to keep digging. 

has a minor crisis about the fact that the only they/them i can currently think of is davepeta from homestuck  ah nuts and now maybe stevonie from SU ANYWAY the point is that i think it’s powerful when people use different pronouns for characters based on their own experience.  i think it shows the breadth of the human experience, and lets us rally behind what little queer rep we get.  it reminds me that human experience can be fluid and varied, and that we should all be able to see a little bit of ourselves reflected back when we look at others.  it doesn’t feel bad to me when people change a they/them characters pronouns to something else, because for the most part, i can still see part of myself and my own experience in that iteration/headcanon/experience, and i’m glad another person is able to find something to relate to in a character i love.

and THAT is what i’m talking about when i’m talking about sharing crumbs.

[happyselves]

Drugs ( part 2 ) { Daniel Ricciardo x reader }

That’s when he called your name from the back of that room, and like an idiot you lifted up your head meeting his gaze from afar. He looked at you like he knew something was up ... and your heart broke again replacing it with dust as the elevator's doors finally opened in front of you. You entered it, looking at him one last time.

You were in that elevator, the door closed themself and you pushed the button. At this point there were no reasons for you to hide your tears anymore.The more you thought of that moment, that kiss, the more you were mad at yourself, why did the alcohol have to make you so brave like that ? Why couldn't you just gently push him away and blame it on the tequila ? Why does your selfish desire take over your reasoning ? It was too late now ...

The door opened on the floor below the one you were, letting people enter the small space. you squeezed yourself to the corner of it and waited for the door to close again, but as they were about to do so, you heard him. You hear him shout to hold the door and the old lady in front of you did. You couldn't believe that he just ran down the stairs this quick to catch it up. You could hear him panting, completely out of breath, holding himself on the door, the old lady looking at him like he was a crazy person and then he saw him search for you, his eyes desperate to find yours in those 5m². You were hiding again in your hood, why did you put your sunglasses in your bag you thought ...

Of course he found you, you were wearing his merch hoodie, but he acted like he didn't and entered the elevator, positioning himself on the opposite corner facing you, not saying anything. You felt like there was no oxygen in this room, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape. He felt incredibly close to you yet so far, you were feeling his eyes on you, observing, wondering, searching for the answer to his unsaid questions.

You've reached the first floor after what seems like an eternity and the old left first, you were to follow where Daniel's arm just stopped you right there, blocking the exit. He looks at the people waiting outside the elevator to come in and go up.

Dan : I'm sorry we forgot something and we have time to stop on another floor, truly my apologies.

He knew exactly what to say, like he ran this scenario ten times in head before, you shared an apologizing look to the poor tourist waiting outside as the door closed again. The silence as he pressed their floor button was unbearable, he was looking at you anymore and you didn't say. He was the first to speak.

Dan : You were about to leave ...

Silence again, it wasn't a question it was a statement and you felt like crying again. He finally turns himself to look at you, getting closer to you, taking the hood of your head. What could you say ? You were busted, he wasn't wrong, you were a coward not facing him, but you couldn't because it was hurting you too much. Your eyes on the ground, your arms holding yourself,searching for a bit of comfort you heard Daniel press another button.

He litteral stops the elevator between two floors which definitely makes you lift your head up and look at him.

You : What are you doing ?

Dan : Answer the question

He already know the answer but he needed you to say it ... aoutch

You : You already know it

It was barely audible , like a whisper and you hated yourself for not being stronger especially with him and especially after all those years of friendship. The woman that he adored so much was no more now, replaced by a version of you that was scared and not confident, it was the version you were trying so much to hide from him but now it is out on display for anyone to see.

Dan : Why ?

Of course he wanted an explanation.

Dan : Why did you leave the room last night ?

How dare he ask why ? He bloody knows why and that was making you so angry right now that you wanted all the frustration you had in you to finally get out. The bravery from last night came back to you.

You : What do you mean why ? You know exactly why, we talk about it so many times !

Surprise was perfectly describing his expression right now, surprised of your tons bu confuse as well, he was clearly lost and that even make you want to slap him for playing dumb with you.

Dan : Is it because of the kiss ?

He was literally driving you crazy and you were ready to play sarcastic right now.

You : No it is because of that old lady earlier in the elevator .... YES this is why !

Your arm was making a Y right now from exasperation, this is exactly why you wanted to avoid him and leave him without a goodbye, cause you knew that " the kiss " like he said didn't mean anything to him and by just asking you this he was confirming it.

Dan : We were drunk ...

It was his turn now to look at his feet and whisper and this sudden change of behavior was shaking you. Your arms fall down, your body dejected. You were really going to discuss this right here, right now in this elevator.

You : Does it change anything, that we were ?

Dan : It changes EveryTHING !

You hit your back on the wall stunt at his reaction and he saw that right away, regret flashing through his eyes.

Dan: I'm sorry ... Can we talk somewhere else ? Because I am pretty sure we are bothering everyone in this hotel.

You crossed your arms and looked at him, challenging him.

You : No my fault there.

Daniel was losing patience.

Dan : I KNOW ...

Oh God he was getting frustrated, that doesn't look good for you and you can't even escape anymore, you know that you were about to have an hard time and that would will both end up hurt because you never saw him angry like that before and you both fight time to time, it was all because of you ... He pushed the red button making the lift go up again and stop at what was your floor before you called the reception this morning to check out. You both left the elevator, if your head could be on the floor because of how shameful you were to have made Daniel shout at you, you would have done it.

Dan : You room or mine ?

It could have sounded dirty if you didn't know what was going to happen next.

I don't have a room anymore, you said, still looking at the floor, trying to avoid him. You hear him sigh and that makes your face grin. You both end up in front of his door and you wait for him to open it. He entered first but you ? You felt stuck in front of it, incapable of making any moves. Knowing that as soon as you will cross that door, nothing will be the same, not like it didn't already change last night, but for you now it was a sweet fantasy and now it will put you right back into reality in the hardest way possible. You were about to lose that sweet fantasy of maybe being together and you weren't ready to lose him forever. This is why you didn't want this, because leaving him without saying anything would have left the " maybe " on stand-by in a corner of your head, but now it was about to get crushed in millions of pieces and thrown in the bin. Daniel was looking at you, with one luggage in each hand before coming to take them and put them against the wall in front of his bed.

Dan : Are you going to enter or are you planning to stay here, be a tree and grow some fruit until they are ready to be harvested ?

You snapped out of you though and took the first step into the end of everything that was making you feel alive. It felt like you were both strangers again, only on your side probably, Daniel not seeing what is wrong. But if he didn't see what was wrong, why was he angry at you and still cold in the way he was talking to you ? What he just said right here was some teasing, yes, but not like the usual bickery between the two of you, this was cold and sarcastic, he was annoyed by you. You were a little scared of him now, this was a new side of him that he didn't know he had in him and you weren't sure if you wanted to see the rest of that side. You sit on the edge of his bed, closing your legs together, your hand on your knees making yourself little and waiting for the next words that will come out of his mouth.

Dan : What happened last night ?

Out of everything he could have asked he chose this, putting both feet on the plate, you saw. You took a deep breath, all the bravery you had in the elevator was now gone and you were vulnerable now, like a prey trying to think how you could get away from the predator except that the man in front of you had nothing to do with one. Or maybe he was ? By the look he gives you, losing patience at what used to make him smile before now, your daydreaming session. You shake your head pretty hard to get away from your thoughts but it makes you dizzy from the hangover you had this morning after the crazy night full of drinks. You grinned again and put your hand on your head, holding it to relieve the small pain and you thought for a second, that you perceived some concern flashing through Dan's eyes. He left the room, going into the bathroom for a minute before coming back and giving you a glass of fresh water. You thanked him quickly before drinking a bit and gave him back the glasses that he put next to him as he sank himself into the chair in front of you. It was nice to see that he was caring about you like that,still...

Were you dumb ? Obviously he still does, for him nothing changes, but for you everything did and you were sinking like he did in the chair but your heart was.

Dan : Are you not gonna talk to me then ? Are you going to be like that from now on ?

You : What do you want me to say ?

Dan : You left me last night and you were about to leave me right now ... if I hadn't caught you, how long were you planning to ignore me ?

Shame again was running through your body, but you couldn't hold it anymore, you wanted to end this misery as quickly as possible.

You : Probably forever ...

Dan : You are not serious ... for a kiss ?

Shame turned into anger, switching as quickly as it did in that lift earlier.

You : You Don't Get It Don't YOU ?

His voice was now strangely calm, way to calm

Dan : Get what, explain it to me, I can't help you if you not telling me anything {YN}

Full rage was building up in you, you stood up facing him, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes. At this point you were ready to let it all out, you didn't care anymore, it was torture for you and you wanted to be as far as possible from this man because you were starting to hate yourself. How could your heart still beat so fast for him right now, even when he is making you like this, burning inside, the love for him is stronger than anything. It was love that was making you go crazy, crazy for him. You were mad at him but most importantly you were mad at yourself.

You : YOU CANNOT HELP ME DANIEL, YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO HELP ME !

The two of you were surprised at how harsh these words came out of you and the power of them made you lose your balance, making you sit right where you were, before continuing. You started and you were not stopping until everything you had in your heart was out.

You : How can you be so blind Daniel, how can you not see that this k. What happened last night wasn't a big deal to me ? To you sure, but to me ... after all this long .... all our late night conversations where you told me that you could never date anyone seriously to not make them suffer if anything happens to you .... you were the one that kissed me for god's sake Daniel, did you think about that ?

You weren't sure if he was listening because his face was close, lost in any emotion, just looking at you.

Dan : I was drunk, we both were ...

You : OHH stop that would you, what does it change ? We know exactly how we are when we are drunk and we were way out of being that drunk !! Tell me he was nothing ... tell me right now that this fucking kiss was nothing to you ...

His lips shout and he stay quiet, not knowing what to say cause it was impossible for him to say these words, he knows it in his heart that it was impossible, he felt it last night as much as you did, it's been a while now and he was trying so hard to denied it because it was against his number one rule. To not fall in love during his career. Several minutes pass and still no words from Daniel, you are trying to get calm now, breathing in and out, listening to your heart beating, seeing if it has calmed down as well.

You : It didn't hurt me at first, our conversation you know ... but how can you be so selfish by kissing me and expecting me to be cool with him, it hurts so much ...

Tears were flooding down your cheeks now, all the pressure you had these past months was resolving into this torrent of emotion. You felt two hands on your arms lifting you and bringing you closer into a warm hug. He was hugging you, he never hugs you, never. Yes was showing affection with some skinship but never did he hug you, this was new. You must look this miserable that he had pity for you and give you a hug, but you weren't complaining, after all it might be the last time you even feel him this close to you.

MASTERLIST

[herstarburststories]

Brutal (Dean Winchester x Reader)

✾ A/N: More Dean x reader content, but angst this time! Reposting because I had to edit a few things. Gif's credits on it.  Based on the song ‘from the dining table’.

✾ Summary: Unlike her boyfriend, Dean Winchester, the reader wasn’t raised as a hunter. At first, it seems like a hard but worth it job. Unfortunately, you didn't have in mind how brutal all of it could get.

✾ Words: 3k.

"YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF ANYMORE, DEAN!"

The discussion over a delicate subject at the dining table was blossoming into something bigger. (Y/N) was on her feet, shouting at her boyfriend with a shaking voice; a manner that was very uncommon. You were used to Dean being stubborn, and you were not behind him in this aspect which caused a few disagreements here and there. That certain argument, though, was definitive in every meaning of the word.

"I HAVE ALWAYS MADE IT FUCKING CLEAR WHAT THIS LIFE WAS, (Y/N)!" Dean snapped back, anger dripping from his words like venom. He was hurt. How could you say that he was becoming a cold-hearted person? You, of all people. "IF I DON'T KILL IT, IT KILLS ME! THIS ISN'T AN APPLE PIE LIFE, AND YOU KNEW IT WHEN YOU DECIDED TO STAY HERE!"

"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT VAMPIRES OR POLTERGEISTS OR WENDIGOS, DEAN! FUCK!" Your usual efficiency with words was starting to tangle with desperation. Dean didn't even see the problem, for God's shake. How could you keep this up? "I'M TALKING ABOUT THE PEOPLE! I SAW YOU KILL FIVE POSSESSED PEOPLE TODAY!"

"DEMONS!" He groaned and slapped the table. You jumped in surprise, making him regret getting out of control and coaxing a softer, calmer tone from his mouth. "I killed demons, not people."

"The demons were possessing them, and you killed them off without any regret. You didn't even take a minute to consider other options."

"What other options?" he questioned, obviously upset. What the hell were you doing? Becoming the devil's advocate all of sudden?

"Using the demon-killing knife to stab a non-vital part of their bodies? Maybe an exorcism?"

"None of those options would end the problem permanently. Do you have any idea how many sons of a bitch came back from hell to get Sam and me? It's them or us, (Y/N). And I will always choose us." Dean was aware that you weren't raised in this life like him and Sam, but this conversation was becoming frustrating and confusing. You were training to be like them. You went to hunts with them. You... You supported him. At least, you did last time he checked. "The human is long gone when they get possessed. Dying is the best thing that could happen to them after that."

You were supposed to be an easy case that turned out to be more complicated than previously expected, what meant both of them staying a little longer in the city, you catching feelings for Dean and vice-versa. After all you had seen, you knew that normal life was a long lost memory that you didn't wish to visit, leave alone live in. Hauntings, traveling across the country, having no banal responsibilities-- that seemed like the kind of dangerous fun you had been looking for your whole life. Then, you came with them. Killing things had never bothered you-- they weren't actually alive, for starts. Until you saw how cold Dean looked when he killed off possessed people-- the humans that were still in there somehow. And he kept doing it as if it were the only option. Of course, this job and violence walked side by side, but not unnecessary lethal choices. Dean certainly shared his portion of brutality, which wasn't tiny, but you would never picture your boyfriend as uncaring. Not until you watched five bodies piled up together, burning. What about the chance that those people should have gotten?

"Are you even listening to yourself, Dean? What if Sam had thought like that when you became a demon!?" Apprehensive, you tried to make him understand what was wrong.

Dean clenched his jaw before his answer came out, "Those are two different things, (Y/N). You know that."

"I..." You flinched, taking a deep breath and letting it out. You shut your eyes before opening them with a determinate glare, locking your gaze with his green one. "I can't. I said I would stand by you through anything, but I can't let this slide. Not like this."

"Because I killed a few demons?" The older Winchester grinned wryly. He was furious, scared by the possibility of you leaving him, and injured by your words. What else could a wounded animal do besides attacking? "I survived, (Y/N). I've killed many others, and I'm not fucking sorry for it. They had it coming. You knew that was my life, and you chose it. What are you going to do now? Play the coward? It's a dirty, fucked up job, but someone has to do it, and you knew that."

Offering a sad smile, you walked towards him and lifted your hand to claim his cheek only for him to pull away from you. Your heart ached, but you needed to do that. Stick to your morals and beliefs.

"I love you." And you did, you truly did. Unfortunately, blood was as normal as water in his mouth, and you couldn't help but remain nauseous after what you tasted. "But there is a better way. Maybe not perfect, but another decision. And if you can't see that, if you can't see why I find it wrong to just rush around with the knife in every situation--" Your voice almost broke. "Goodbye, Dean."

You turned around, passing away from the man you loved before another speech stopped you.

"I bet you regret leaving your home to run away with me now."

You didn't take two seconds to reply, and you desired that he could understand how hard it was for you too. "I would never regret you."

No ray of sunshine licked Dean's face to wake him up. Fortunately for the Winchesters' disorganized sleeping routine, the bunker prevented the sun from invading the window-- a perk of living almost under the land in a bunker.

Instead of a normal reason to emerge from his rest, Dean's eyes fluttered open from an annoying migraine. Perhaps he went a little too hard on the alcohol yesterday, but that was the last thing that mattered. Besides, even if it was an abnormal sensation, he wouldn't trade it for sake of 'drinking like a normal human being', as (Y/N) had teased him so many times before.

(Y/N).

It took two seconds after recovering consciousness to think about you.

“Where are you?” he said in a whisper, playing with himself to the silent walls. Dean laughed with his own brand of self-deprecation-- a learned cruelty to dilute the tug of his emotions before the eldest Winchester had to get up. He knew exactly where you resided and why you were there. He decided against feeding his masochism for once, not glancing at your side of the bed.

To face the light fixtures above him only made his current situation more depressing, just like the hints of paint that (Y/N) had once thrown there. Dean Winchester knew pain like no other; hell, purgatory, an emptied childhood, watching his mother seal a deal with a demon, living with the fact his father had gone to hell to save him, being right in front of Sammy when he died, all the bloody deaths he’d lived through again and again-- the list would go on. He could probably drown in an ocean of his deceased loved ones’ blood and swim there for hours until he reached its edge.

Most of the time, the life of a hunter was synonymous with tragedy.

Therefore, Dean was very experienced when it came to suffering. He even shared a last name with a rifle, for God’s sake. Destruction was stained in his bones. This time, it was a different kind of torment.

His heart had been broken before, sure. He wasn’t in his early twenties, neither was he a saint. Dean was aware that a break in relationships could be devastating.

But again, this time, it was different. (Y/N) had not only broke his heart. You ripped it out and threw it in the trash as you walked out the door without looking back. His trust was in your pockets, and the beliefs clinging to the divine sensation of your touch that left with you.

Dean Winchester was hopeless. Deciding not to mourn for a bit, he closed his eyes from the melancholy. It wasn't a hard job to fall asleep once more. People in his job were always heavy-eyed.

Forty minutes passed by the clock until the Winchester roused again. This moment felt missing without you snuggling up to him or kissing his neck between foolish giggles or even pushing him out of bed when you felt like playing the prankster.

There was no valid reason to remain where he was, glaring at a stupid ceiling that held nothing but an old light you installed together and memories. The yellow and blue paints still held firm where you’d spattered them, jumping in the bed together with your hands drenched in the colors from a gouache paint container just because you’d found the tins somewhere in the bunker. You and Dean became a tangled mess of greens, dirty with paint and kissing. How many sexual encounters happened here, he thought, glaring at this ceiling that looked like three-year-old Sammy’s art project.

The green-eyed man never thought he would feel nostalgic about a stupid ceiling. He had to get out of that room.

Finally raising from the mattress, Dean yawned as he padded towards the kitchen. He didn't mind checking what time it was, knowing he needed an alcoholic getaway. The Winchester sat down, sharing a bottle of Whiskey with his shadow. How distracting it was to make his throat burn when an unpleasant thought attempted to take control of his head.

If he had dared to look through the room, Dean would have noticed the clock's arrow pointing at 10:50 am.

By noon he was already drunk, which took a lot of effort since his tolerance to drinks was a bar high set. Dean groaned, displeased. The buzzy feeling of befuddlement hitting him certainly helped, but he could still affirm that he had never felt less cool. His body was starving for something that wasn't there anymore. Dean's feelings were all over the place, and he didn't have the energy to pick them up at this point.

"I can't believe you are drinking already." Sam sighed, making himself known by Dean in the kitchen. In response, all he got was his brother holding the glass up and drinking all of its bronze liquid. "It's barely noon, Dean. You-- Wait. Are you drunk?"

"Don't start, Sam." He groaned, holding his own cheeks with fingers as his hands slid down to his chin. The gesture was a habit of Dean's when he was fed up with something.

The younger one offered him an indignant glare, which was soon replaced by empathy and sorrow as he watched Dean. His brother was broken. (Y/N) running away from them had really taken him down. Part of Sam was hurt as well-- after all, you were his friend and confidant. But, in all ruthless honesty, he couldn't speak out and point fingers at you on that. Not about the whole situation, at all.

Yet, if Sam was feeling abandoned by his friend, he could only imagine what Dean would be experiencing. You had been a hint of happiness in the middle of misery and combat for Dean. It had been so long since Sammy saw his brother like that, so very long. Suddenly, it disappeared like smoke. And the worst part was that he understood your side. Deep down, the long-haired man knew Dean did, too.

Trying to knock sense back into his brother, or at least a bit of normality, Sam spoke, "You can go out and buy some whiskey. Your bottle was the last one."

"Yeah, right." His voice was impassive, almost serious for such casual conversation. He got up, going to the table to grab Baby's keys.

"Hey, Dean..." Dean turned around to face his brother. Sam’s expression was cautious, voice soft when he continued: "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. It could help."

"I'm pretty sure you heard the screaming yesterday, Sam," Dean replied dryly, an unsettlingly wry smile surfacing. His walls were up. It was an old defense mechanism. "There is nothing to talk about. She left. The sooner we can accept it, the sooner we can move on."

"Move on? You want to move on?" he questioned suspiciously, eyebrows arching to match his inquiry.

Dean didn't answer. He only picked up the keys.

"Dean--"

"Yeah, I think we are out of eggs, too," Dean interrupted. He didn't need to talk about it. Not now. "Whiskey and eggs, got it."

Any other remarks from Sam were ignored as he walked through the door, trotting in direction of his beloved Impala. An old song on one of his cassettes was the soundtrack to his five-minute ride to the nearest store.

Dean went searching for eggs and whiskey, adding a lemon pie that smelled better than himself-- not that it was difficult considering he hadn’t showered since yesterday. The store’s cashier swiped his credit card and offered a polite farewell that was replied with a nod. Everything seemed so normal in the most boring ways.

In the parking lot, a familiar face appeared for the first time in a year. It was Thomas-- a hunter that Dean, you, and Sam had come across during a job in New Mexico.

"Winchester!" The blue-eyed man smiled, making the scar near his lips more evident. Being thrown out of a window left marks sometimes. "It's been too long, dude."

"Cavill." His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted his friend. Laying his green eyes on him, Dean couldn't avoid noticing a familiar shirt. Fuck, he must be hallucinating or thinking too hard about foolish subjects. "Where have you been?"

"Burning bones, decapitating vamps. Same old, same old." Thomas waved his hand, banalizing the supernatural routine as if it were nothing but another Sunday. For them, this was true. "I saw (Y/N) yesterday. She seemed fine. Separate hunts to take different cases?"

His blood burned through an emotional fever in realization. It felt like the boil was intense enough to melt his bones if he remained in front of the other men for too long. Thomas had never been subtle about finding you attractive, and neither was his constant flirting when your cases collided. It didn't help that you and Dean weren't together back then, even though the tension was obvious for anyone. The Winchester gripped his grocery plastic bag harder, offering him a sarcastic smirk.

"Something like that." He reached the car door and pulled out his keys. The familiar red flannel, your meeting with him-- it was so obvious it was basically written all over his face, and sadly, Dean could read it well. Fuck, he wanted to drop his purchases and punch that smile off Thomas’ face. That man probably had more of what was once his. “Gotta go. See you around.”

Sliding in the car to leave this conversation before his treacherous mind could reach more detestable conclusions, Cavill answered, "If you need help, give me a call.''

Dean mumbled something but didn't care enough to give him anything beyond a nod while the Impala finally drove away from Thomas.

At that moment, he wished a bit harder that Ellen was still alive or that another bar like hers existed. The hunters’ bar was full of people who understood that death was a part of the job. Somewhere he could swallow barrels of alcohol, play darts and tell bloody stories about his world-- about the quintessential things he did to get despair out of his system to the point that he felt comfortable on his own skin again.

So, that was it? You didn't just leave him and Sam, but you also accused him with all certainty you had of being a cold killer, and then you slept with the first man who showed up? Who was also a fucking hunter? Why the fuck didn't you tell him how you felt sooner? He wasn't an angel-- he would be even more of an arrogant asshole than he already was if that was the case, but you knew it all along. He didn't deserve anything good in his life. He should've seen it coming.

Dean pursed his lips, deciding for another ride to a normal bar. Home and all the beautiful, tragic ghosts inside could haunt him later.

It didn't take him long to park near an establishment. For once, he noticed the strong grip he held on the steering wheel, knuckles strained whiter than usual. He let out a tired sigh, glaring at the entrance of the place before grabbing his phone.

No calls from you. No text messages from you. Just the feeling of being a thirteen-year-old boy again, just like when he was waiting for Mary to send him a sign that she was all right.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean put it back in his pocket and made his way to the bar. No 'welcome' board light was shining yet, and he doubts anyone but he and the owner would be there. Once he got in, two guys were sitting in a table far away, and a girl was entering the bathroom. The bartender stood behind the bar, watching some game on the small television the place provided.

"Whiskey. No ice." His words came out harsher than he expected. The guy didn't seem to notice or care, simply nodding his head and turning around go get his client's order. One more time, Dean took his phone and stared at it. There was nothing but a text from Sammy that he quickly replied to, frowning in disappointment. It was rare for you to be the first one to break after a fight, but that was more than a stupid argument. You had left. You had fucking left. And he was the only one to blame.

Such a miserable routine kept its course. Dean would drink, check his phone, and hurt himself with his own thoughts. The night came with lurking shadows, and he couldn't care less. It seemed like the ghosts had replaced the bunker for his company. He didn't want to believe you would come back because hoping and being destroyed again was too much to bear with right now. Dean couldn't even breathe properly at the thought that he would never, ever see touch you, tease you, or be with you again. You had him wrapped around your finger since the very first day until you cut your hand off and left him. You left. How could you have left? But then, how could you had stayed if you had it all in your mind before?

Someone sat beside him. Still, it didn't catch the Winchester's attention until he heard her voice. For a flash of a second, he thought it was you. Dean looked up instantly, only to find himself incredulous.

The woman in front of him looked so much like you. She could easily be mistaken for your sister. Hair, eyes, voice. Everything but the lips were so similar. The unknown girl kept her gaze on Dean despite his strange reaction to her. Repeating her former words, she asked, "What are you drinking? Seems good."

Yeah, she wasn't (Y/N). You could tell what he was drinking from miles away, just because you knew exactly what he enjoyed. In addition, you’d seen his preferences so much that you’d memorized it all without even trying.

She looked like you, though. A lot. The earlier jealousy mixed with a dangerous quantity of alcohol and anguish made his decision. Move on, just like he told Sam. You didn't call him. You weren't coming back. That was your choice. He had to shut up the little hopes in his mind.

Putting up his best sultry smirk, Dean pushed the glass on the table towards her as he answered: "You tell me."

Two hours later, he was tilting his head to the side, watching the woman in his sheets peacefully taking a nap after a long run. Her hand covered most of her face, pillow carpeted with her messy hair.

"Wake up, (Y--)" Dean restrained himself from finishing that sentence. He almost said your name. It was hard enough to keep the woman's name, which he had forgotten by now, on his tongue during sex-- he wasn't going to give in at the end of it. Clearing his throat, the hunter started waking her up again. He needed to go.

In any other point of his life, he would've considered that night a success. A hot girl was sleeping beside him after he had a great amount of old whiskey. Sammy sent a text about a new case, and he had pie waiting for him in the car. At any other moment, that would be enough to put him in a good mood all day. In any other age, that would be considered a good day. No one died, he had sex and food and was about to hunt a thing and blow whatever it was up.

But you hadn't called.

It was probably a good thing in a messed up way. It was tranquil. There was no arguing, no fighting, no hurting from either side. That kind of hurt was quite similar to being comfortable, in a tremendously distorted way that he didn't wish to feel, like not putting medicine on the wound and just allowing it to heal by itself-- yet, occasionally scratching it. The idea of a comfortable silence was so overrated. Dean would rather be screamed at by (Y/N) by now than whatever this option was.

The woman woke up and left a note with her phone as she abandoned the room. Crumbling the paper, he threw it away and touched his face. A deep breath was taken.

He had work to do.

Maybe one day you'll call me

and tell me that you’re sorry too 

But you never do

[abyssal-hoonter]

[The highest place]

-----

The Assassins enjoyed to observe the city from above because that was high and gave them a better view. A better view that people needed to understand. So did Evie. Perhaps. This was the first time she had herself here not because of her duty, but because she wanted to go far away from the train which she and her brother called "home" especially when they were still in this center city of the world, London. A flash in her thought drove her to regret going to this place just to fill another page of her life notebook writing about what had been happening...

People believed no smoke without fire. Maybe it was true this time. Evie wanted to hide, to run away, to make a distance with the one she had never believed. She knew who it was, the woman with red hair, a bit taller, older and maybe wiser than her and that was exactly the one Evie once thought that individual had been ended by a fucking cane - sword. Miss Thorne, evidently.

Evie buried herself into hundred lines of thinking which was dancing crazily in her head. At the same time she thought it must be stopped no matter what. Crushing her skull, washing her brain, anything could help, but nothing helped... She wondered how Henry was. Would he be the same like the old day when they first met on a roof of a building? Or was he busy enough pursuing something that the Brotherhood had been always against?

Jacob did tell her what she didn't want to understand nor hear. The way he shared the story and his expression, including his eyes when he had looked at his older sister, all rang a bell that he was telling the truth.

"Acting hastily and brutally does NOT mean I never use my brain, dearest sister." She remembered what he had told her when they were arguing in the train, with Miss Thorne leaning on the wagon wall and sighed heavily. Evie rushed outside once they had done talking and hadn't realized tears had already been covered her cheeks. Even now gazing at the air from the tallest point of London, the Big Ben, she could feel her tears being dried as she began to recall what had happened one week ago.

---

"You fucking bastard! Son of a bitch!" Jacob cursed loudly as he rushed toward Henry, grabbing his shirt with one hand and the other one delivered a heavy punch to the man's face. "How could you do this to us? How could you do this to my sister?!!!" He screamed as he was mad and continued to punch Greenie until Miss Thorne came and intervened.

"Frye! Stop! Stop!" She said and yanked Jacob out from the Indian. Jacob, still gritting his teeth, tried to catch Henry with his arms stretched forward and his fingers formed like a vampire preparing to kill their prey. Henry, stood with his face full of bruises and blood caused by the younger Frye.

"First you cheated on her. Now you're with that fucking Mr. Starrick!" Jacob roared.

"Your sister is just a tool without thinking. Just like you, Jacob. She acts like she's so mature but deep down from inside now I'm starting to realize you all assassins are just... animals." Henry scoffed a simple but cruel irony. Jacob was surprised by what he was seeing in this man. Just not so long ago he was still a gentleman, saying noble words and talking greatly politely. That was contradicted to what the hell he was right now. All Jacob could see was a mere person who wore a Templar band on his sleeve and speaking like a brute with his voice full of hatred and disdain toward the people he once stood side by side.

"That was your fucking fault first! You cheated on Evie, my sister. You betrayed her! She lost her memory because of you!!" Jacob angrily said.

"She did something worse than me, Frye. She became one with the woman standing there, beside you." Henry laughed and gestured to Lucy, who was still trying to calm herself despite those critical words she had heard. "What's that? Love? Allow me to fix it, Mr. Frye. It is sickness! Purely an act of pathetic whores--" he continued, and didn't have a chance to finish the sentence when suddenly Lucy broke out "from her cage" and dashed to his place, giving him tons of punches and rakes. She grabbed his collar and hit him to the ground. The man struggled to get out but he was totally lost. In a moment he realized how powerful Miss Thorne could be, a woman could be, especially when they went mad and the devil side of them took control.

"Whores are ones toying people's heart!!" Lucy's eyes opened wide and the man could see dark fire in them.

This time, it was Jacob who tried to prevent the redhead from killing Henry. He wrapped her waist from behind and stepped backward but Lucy kicked her legs repeatedly before deciding to stop.

Right at that moment, Evie came in and witnessed what was in front of her eyes. She saw Henry in bad state and his brother backing Thorne.

"What's happening?" She raised her voice, and to Jacob and Lucy's surprised, Henry started to groan.

"Evie... Evie..." Greenie pleaded.

Jacob watched and saw Henry secretly conceal his Templar band. He stomped forward, intending to check the man but Evie pushed him away. "Don't touch him!" She said. Jacob frowned with frustration.

"You did this to him, Jacob? How dare you!" Evie shouted to Jacob's face. She didn't realize Henry was grinning caddishly behind Evie's back.

"I did." A voice came from Lucy, "I hate public dicks!"

Evie's blood boiled in anger. She stared at the woman as if she was trying to kill Thorne again with her blue eyes now full of violence.

Henry pretended to stand up as Evie hold his arms. "Evie... I gotta go. Sorry." He said and unleashed his rope launcher to disappear on the rooftop.

Evie gave both her brother and the redhead a side-glance before running away, heading to nowhere in particular. Lucy couldn't leave her alone as she chased from behind when Jacob rolled his eyes and followed.

---

Such a memory.

But the one she got yesterday was better to be cursed than what she had just thought of. She didn't want to believe but she had to get use to the fact from now on: Henry Green was a Templar, siding with the Grand Master of British Rite and he was going to search for the Shroud, either. And guess what? The special person she used to plan an assassination plan was helping her and Jacob, somehow, without getting tired of both her suspicion and her brother's doing. The female Frye felt like Lucy was slowly replacing Mr. Green in their life, not including the truth that Evie was the one who used to spend days and nights in the former Templar's arms, falling asleep together after reading books, discussing topics with one another, walking alongside the streets of London talking about poems, buying foods and drinks for beggars and children by their own little coins, and even --

She released a heavy breath and closed her eyes. It was not so long until she heard a sound from behind and turned. That was Miss Thorne, who finally caught her there after a long way of pursuing the girl since Evie had been drawing a distance between them.

Lucy realized that Evie must have cried. They looked at each other for a moment and none of them said anything.

It was Evie who decided to break the silence, "How could you go up here?"

Lucy crossed her arms and leaned on the surface next to her, "You're not the only one who can climb."

Evie dragged a half smile and looked away, "I'm not in the mood, Miss Thorne. Leave me."

Her voice where the pain and disappointment was hidden. She had worked in the shadow because she believed it would serve the light but never she had thought one day definitely she had met the man she once loved cowered beside Starrick, or called her brother a foolish cow, or called Lucy a whore burned in the pussy because Lucy loved her honestly.

"I know... I'm not here to talk lesson." Lucy paced to her side and looked at the direction Evie was gazing, "I'm here to get you home." She softly said and looked at Evie, who was not making an eye-contact, "It's been a day since you've gone. To what I know about your personality you haven't eaten yet..."

The young girl frowned and glared at Thorne, "No need for such thing. I can take care of myself."

She finished her sentence and about to perform a leap of faith. Miss Thorne, already predicted that, grabbed Evie's arm firmly and slammed her against the wall behind, looking at her with those dark brown eyes both begging and warning. The young assassin was cornered and trapped, yet she couldn't free herself by pushing the older woman backward since it could make Lucy suffer from a deadly falling. They stood looking at each other's eyes until Evie felt Lucy's fingers was swipping her tears and rubbing her cheeks. They started to kiss and the feeling of craving to be one again to wake up.

It was a little cold near the top of Big Ben as they can see once the Frye was naked and they threw themselves into caressing each other. Gliding her fingertips slowly across Evie's body was one of the parts Lucy enjoyed as she could see the girl beneath gasping and trempling. Evie pulled the woman closer to start another long and deep kiss while enjoying the pleasure Miss Thorne was excitedly giving her. The girl couldn't hold herself from making a loud moan when Lucy dipped her long and naughty tongue into her core. Licking, whirling, sucking and even toying her with it.

"Oh Go..d... Lucy-- How could you--" her word failed as she couldn't continue to say anything but just laid there, enjoying what was coming and of course it was close.

She shook in the climax. The last things she saw before closing her eyes for a short rest were Miss Thorne who gave her a kiss on the forehead and began to put her cloths in place.

.

A few minutes later, Evie opened her eyes and saw her head cushioned on the older woman's thigh. Lucy smiled at her. A soft and beautiful smile Evie wished she would never stop seeing it for the rest of her life. She sat up next to the redhead, weaving their hands together.

"It's late. We should come back to the train." Lucy whispered, "Jacob must be waiting long enough."

Evie leaned on Thorne's shoulder, "I will never forget this place."

"Me too."

---

*At night*

Jacob prepared for his duty with the Rooks. He checked everything carefully and put the top hat on his head. He looked at himself in the mirror and smile with confidence. Seathing his kurki in its place, he knew there was only one thing more to do before getting to his job - saying "Goodnight" to his sister. Although he could be a naive boy or an arrogant, the man always cared for everyone particularly who stayed with him in the battles and never left them behind. So was this time, he cared for his sister. After what had happened he was certain that Evie deserved better.

He walked to his sister's wagon but looked back at his to check everything one more time, "Evie, I'm out for work, you should stay with--" as his eyes went back to his sister's wagon entrance, he noticed a small board hanged from the other side of the door.

Do not disturb

"--Miss Thorne." He now finished and rolled his eyes, "Arh! Perfect."

He walked outside the hideout and swivelled his neck, "Hope they will finish before I come back."

[technogeekmituna]

STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE SPOILERS

Pink Diamond Background Analysis

Disclaimer: This post is not a discussion on if Pink Diamond was the worst thing to ever exist, so don't try applying arguments slandering/defending her here. This is a post about, potentially, explaining how she turned into who she was. So enjoy.

Soo... Now that we know Pink Diamond was a bit of a spoiled, temper tantrum throwing, demanding, and violently explosive child-like Diamond and that she expressed her frustrations aggressively, I think a lot of her absence of growth makes sense.

Imagine a child if you will. You know children can be explosive and bratty things sometimes, even if they're raised properly, healthily, and rightly, when they don't get that doll or bike. It just happens. They're growing humans that can't express themselves. They learn and grow, and they eventually learn how to properly process their emotions without having tantrums or breaking things when they get mad.

Now. Imagine a young Pink Diamond raised in an empire based on dictatorships and being in the top ranks with much older Diamonds with a lot of responsibilities and worlds/gems to manage over.

Now compare the two statements. Imagine a four year old sister with her eighteen year old sibling who has all these things that consumes her attention, physical things like make-up, a special keepsake that gets a lot of love, or something new and shiny that is adored and fawned over.

We know how kids are. They want what you have, especially if it takes your attention.

Pink Diamond is basically a child. She wants what the other Diamonds have, and when she can't get it she explodes with her tantrums. Human children can be extremely violent when denied a want: destroying toys, making messes out of anger, ripping things apart, stomping and hitting things, loud yelling, and obnoxious crying/wailing with big crocodile tears. It's awful.

She exhibits almost all of these things. She punches the wall of Yellow's base, she gets stompy and demanding from Stevonnie's POV, she screams when denied things. She broke Pink Pearl.

Now imagine a child all tuckered out from their tantrum. They cry, they're sad. They look around and notice the mess. It's awful, because they were so full of anger, and they didn't know how to express themselves without the violent outburst. Now their toys they love are wrecked and it's their own fault because they caused them to be damaged/broken forever. Now they're miserable.

Pink Diamond was a Diamond that didn't quite fit the quota. She wasn't allowed to have a colony because she doesn't act like a Diamond, she's not fit to run one, she's not mature enough, etc. But she wanted what the others had. She threw her tantrums when denied her wants. She got punished by being locked in a tower, alone, for years, on a lot of occasions.

Child or Diamond, that doesn't teach anything. It only enforces more bad behavior or more backlash of angry emotions. Or being hurt and miserable. Or teaches that you have to act a certain way and to keep your shit to yourself.

Pink Diamond hurt Pink Pearl physically. She also hurt her psychologically to the point P. Pearl's gem couldn't fix her form. Abuse begets more abuse, and even if Pink Diamond didn't mean to, she did it.

She broke and hurt her only friend that she could express herself with, albeit secretly, and White Diamond took the damaged toy away and gave Pink another.

This stage of events changed Pink Diamond. Rather if it was Pink Pearl being damaged and taken away, a fault all due to Pink Diamond, and then Spinel and CG Pearl being given to her to replace her original Pearl or wanting to be seen as mature, this set her to change.

But being a Diamond that was only punished, belittled, mistreated, threatened, abused, ignored, pushed to fit the status quo, told no no no without a follow up as to why or any reasonable explanation to help her understand that she still had to grow up first, made to feel guilty just for herself being more expressive and curious about organic life, shamed, neglected of proper growth and tolerance from the system that made her... fucked Pink Diamond's growth up.

You can only grow and mature so much in an environment that doesn't allow to do too much without repercussions.

Imagine a child wants to do gymnastics. They really want to! They start, they do it, then they don't want to. It could be various reasons, but they don't want to anymore. Yet they are forced to, because it was expensive, because they whined, begged, bothered, and moaned and groaned to do it, so now they gotta. Deal with it.

Pink finally decided she wanted out, so she did what she did. That's the issue of her character. She did bad things, awful things, unforgiving and unforgettably terrible things. She might have been an abuse victim, but she abused others too.

Abuse is a boiling pot word, because when we think of abuse we think violence with bruises and blood, of psychological, emotional, and mental stigmas that limit things because of ptsd flashbacks, child abuse being spanked and yelled at. That the victim is just a victim, and they can't do harm unto others. That's just not how the cycle works.

All situations are different. All reactions are different.

I'm a victim of child abuse. I was physically and verbally abused, but those treatments formed into emotional baggage for years that I'm still working on. I've been a bad friend, a selfish friend, a childish friend, a guilt-tripper, a strain on mental health, I've lied for my own benefit. I've been an abuser. You might not think you are, or maybe you had a self-realization on your actions/behavior, but you have potential to be an abuser too.

It could be a result from my own abuse from my mom, or how she and my grandmother impacted me, or my environment which I suffered in. Or I could just be a bad person. But I understand it's my own problems now and that I have to work on myself. (Probably why I understand/interpret Pink like I do.)

We all try to deal with it, or grow out of it, or ignore it, or whatever to bare with it.

Pink Diamond, despite the HUUUUUGE amounts of problems she left behind, did what she thought was right while dealing with her issues. Keeping her past secret from Pearl, forcing Pearl to keep her identity a secret, not talking about herself, bubbling Bismuth, hiding from the Diamonds-- all her lies and secrets stem from her time on Homeworld. She doesn't understand how to connect to people, like Greg, or she held herself back from getting close to others, like CG Pearl, or how she reflected Garnet's question back at her so she didn't have to talk about herself, or how she fought for a freedom on Earth for a lot of reasons, like maybe her own personal freedom, among her want to save the Earth and its inhabitants.

She tried to protect people by hiding things. She lived and never regretted missing Homeworld, her past life, or the Diamonds. I can almost guarantee you Pink suffered for her actions in the war, regretted the losses. Her actions were her own, and she most likely understood the gravity of the consequences.

They happened though, her mistakes, her guilts, her stemmed problems to Steven, her "running away" from responsibilities, her leaving the Crystal Gems, her detrimental lies coming back to bite everyone, her secrets found by others which ended up ruining their lives, her actions gravely having affects years later... her growth from the life she had.

She was an abuse victim that hurt others too, but she grew all the same from her past and how the Diamonds "raised" and treated her. Her background doesn't entirely define her, but it does define her ability to understand how to properly process/express everything she ever did. It was just unfortunate that a lot of it hurt others she cared about.

She didn't miss the Diamonds. The mere thought of them seemed to irritate her. She can't be compared to them. Because she's not like them. She didn't owe them anything. But she did owe her friends and allies a hella lot.

She's not the worst of the bunch, but she did still come out a bit of a bad, morally gray apple.

[smileyoongle]

Yandere BTS! Birthday Banters

@min-t-posts I got you! This is a sweet request and I really like it. Hope you like it too. Since this is a soft Yandere, please know that their Yandere tendencies are gonna be at their lowest. Now.... LET'S GET IT!

Kim Seokjin:

It was hard, in fact, very hard. Having a boyfriend who never left you alone along with the problem of buying a birthday present for him, how could someone handle it? Because you certainly couldn't. When you had sneaked out of the house and met Jungkook and Hoseok at the mall, you didn't think Jin was gonna find out. But you were stupid. Of course, he had to find out. Your giddiness was replaced with horror when he turned up to take you home, not even muttering a word to the other two who had helped you.

"I don't think you should be mad at me, princess. You were the one who left without my permission." Jin said, his voice sending shivers down your spine but you were too angry to deal with him. You glared at him and placed your hands on your hips. "I have every right to be mad at you. How do I do things when you're following me everywhere, Jin?!" You bellowed, kicking the couch beside you, only to have it hurt your foot. You winced but composed yourself. However, Jin had noticed and he took a step towards you, stretching out his hand to pull you to him but you swatted it away. Hurt flashed in his eyes but it went just as it came. "There's nothing that you have to do. You know you can just tell me and I can-" you cut him off with a frustrated groan, running your hands through your hair. "No, there are some things that need to be done by ME. I can't exactly tell you to go buy yourself a birthday present and not look at it until I give it to you with my own hands, can I?" You argued, watching as Jin's jaw dropped. His heart swelled at hearing that you wanted to buy him something. He was screaming at himself internally for spoiling everything. With a defeated sob, you plopped down on the couch and buried your head in your hands. Jin gulped and kneeled in front of you. He couldn't help that he didn't want you hanging out with someone else. He just loved you too much. Taking your hands in his, he removed them from your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry, Y/N. But thinking about other people being around you is just....I'm scared that someday they'll realize how perfect you are and take you away from me." He apologized, looking at you with eyes full of desperation. You shook your head and leaned your forehead on his, smiling softly. "I only love you, Jin. No one can change that. But I'm still mad at you. I'll forgive you after you apologize to Kookie and Hobi." You pulled back and crossed your arms. Jin's jaw clenched at your words. He didn't wanna apologize to them at all. But if it was you, then he couldn't risk it. Nodding at you, he kissed your forehead as you snuggled closer to him.

Kim Namjoon:

You threw the fluffy pillow across the room, sighing in satisfaction as it hit the wall and fell to the floor. You were almost ashamed of yourself due to your inability to convince Namjoon to let you go out. Alone. You recalled the time when you were really good at convincing people but you probably lost that skill while staying with Namjoon. He was far too good at reasoning about everything which made you question your own choices. It had been about two weeks and you had made no progress with your problem. In the coming two days was your dearest boyfriend's birthday but he was too busy protecting you to even consider the possibility that maybe you wanted to do something for him. The door to the bedroom opened, revealing Namjoon holding a tray of food and taking in the appearance of the bedroom. He raised his eyebrows at the fallen pillows and the messy sheets of the bed where you had been whining and rolling around. His eyes fell on you and he tilted his head making you gulp from your place on the bed. He slowly walked around the bed and placed the tray on the nightstand before grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his lap. "And what exactly is bothering you, hmm? Don't think I haven't been noticing how annoyed you've been. Now tell me, so that I can take care of it for you." He said, his fingers drawing circles on your back as you stared at him with wide eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd have melted at hearing his words. Sometimes, Namjoon took things too far and you wondered how you fell for him. Nonetheless, you loved him truly. "Speak up, baby." He prompted, his breath tickling your neck. "Why won't you let me go out?" You asked in a small voice, not wanting this discussion to erupt into a full-blown argument. "We talked about this, Y/N. You want to go out alone but there are too many dangers out there. And what am I going to do if you try to ru-" that was the end of the line for you. You yanked his hands off of you and got up from his lap. "Run away? Really, Namjoon? That's how much you trust me? All I wanted to do was buy something for you since it's your birthday but I guess that's dangerous too." You scoffed and crossed your arms, not even looking at him anymore. Namjoon blinked at you with a confused expression. Did you want to give him a present? Him? "What? A gift?" He asked, confirming as if he was hearing things. You nodded at him mockingly, pulling the blankets over your head and hiding. Namjoon cursed under his breath, feeling guilty that he upset you even though you were only doing something for him. Lifting the blanket from one end, he got inside and hugged you from behind, letting his fingers tickled your sides until he heard your laughter. He grinned and straddled you, your giggles coming to a halt. "I am sorry, baby. You just make me so crazy. Now if you still want to get me something then let's go. I'll keep my eyes closed the entire time, okay?" He smiled as you nodded and pulled him to hug you, the blanket surrounding the two of you in your own twisted but sweet love life.

Min Yoongi:

You dragged your feet towards the car, sighing loudly while glaring at the bags in your hand signifying all the branded things that Yoongi bought for you. This wasn't supposed to be about you at all, it was supposed to be about Yoongi. But you couldn't exactly buy anything with him following you like a tail, could you? Tossing the bags in the backseat, you slammed the door shut and got in the passenger seat. You leaned your head on the window after fastening your seatbelt, patiently waiting for Yoongi to start the car. After what seemed like an hour, you frowned on noticing that you were still in the parking lot and turned to see what your boyfriend was up to. All this time, Yoongi had been burning holes in the side of your head at your lack of communication. You hadn't spoken to him even while shopping, seemingly lost in your own world. This was the one thing he despised with all his heart, he couldn't help but feel like you were ignoring him on purpose, even if you weren't. Yoongi's intense gaze made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, your hands clutching each other in your lap. The silence was overbearing and it threatened to consume you until Yoongi decided to speak. "We aren't going anywhere unless you tell me why I'm being ignored after treating you to a perfect day." He said, his voice completely blank. You bit your lower lip, contemplating what to say. Your plans of shopping alone went out the window anyway, and it's not like you could lie to him and go somewhere else without being caught either. So then how were you supposed to get him a present if he was gonna stick to you like glue? Yoongi let out a frustrated groan and picked you up from your seat as you yelped, placing you between him and the steering wheel. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you to him, your breath hitching at the proximity. "I can do this all day, you know." He murmured against your neck, your hands tightening around the collar of his shirt. "I needed to buy you something." You said, your voice coming out strained. Yoongi stopped his torture on your neck, pulling back to look you in the eyes and tilting his head with a frown. You sighed in defeat and fiddled with your fingers. "It's your birthday and I wanted to do something special." You confessed, stealing glances at him. You missed the blush that crept up Yoongi's cheek, your words hitting him in the most gentle way possible. This showed just how much you appreciated him, though not more than he did you. His lips stretched into a smile as he cupped your cheeks. "I don't need a gift, babe. I have you and that's the only thing I need." He stated before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss, your heart banging against your ribcage. At times he made you question why you loved him but he made sure that your questions weren't left unanswered. He loved you in his own way. But it was still love.

Jung Hoseok:

The movie played in the background as you hurriedly typed on your phone, oblivious to Hoseok who was standing behind you and eyeing you like a hawk. It had been a week and Hoseok had never seen you this distracted before. He had tried to get your attention by doing all sorts of nonsense but you were too busy to give a damn. He couldn't help but think that maybe someone else had caught your eye. Sure, your relationship was rocky at the beginning, purely because Hoseok had come out of nowhere and professed his love for you when you didn't even know him. But with time, everything had become okay and you ended up falling in love with him. "Why would you be texting Jimin when I'm right here, sunshine?" Hoseok asked from behind you, his lips beside your ear. You flinched and locked your phone, clutching it tightly as you stood up and turned to Hoseok. "What are you talking about?" You chuckled nervously, brushing away the strands of hair that escaped your ponytail. Hoseok gritted his teeth and walked around the couch until he stood in front of you. You swallowed thickly, eyes darting around the room and spotting the clock. There were still 2 minutes left and you had no idea on how to keep Hoseok occupied when he was angry. "I saw it, Y/N. So cut the bullshit and tell me what it is. Have you been getting a little too close to Jimin?" He accused as your eyes widened. Your heart broke a little at his words. Is that what he thought about you? You narrowed your eyes and clenched your jaw. You weren't scared of your boyfriend, although you did agree he could be scary at times. "Is that how low you think of me, Hoseok?" You replied, not taking your eyes off of him. Hoseok felt bad that he was jumping to conclusions but you weren't giving him much of a choice. His eyes landed on your hands that you had hidden behind your back. Without a word, he moved forward and grabbed your hand, trying to take the phone from your hand as you shrieked. Your little wrestling went on for a minute until the bell rung and you mumbled a 'thank god' under your breath. Hoseok paused and glared at you, taking slow steps towards the door and disappearing from your sight. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, deciding that you didn't need to be mad at Hoseok, it was his birthday after all. You heard the door close and you smiled, rushing towards where Hoseok must be standing. "Happy Birthday!" You cheered, laughing at hoseok's shocked expression. You couldn't believe you had pulled it off. You had managed to keep everything a secret from him for an entire week. Hoseok wanted to cry because of how touched he was. He had spent the entire week worrying about losing you whereas you had only been trying to set up a surprise for him. He stared at the box of cake along with a bouquet of flowers and a blue velvet box that Jimin had dropped off. You ran to him and picked up the blue box, opening it to reveal two silver rings with both your initials carved on the inside. Taking one out, you grabbed your boyfriend's hand and slipped it onto his finger. "I love you, Jung Hoseok. So don't you ever think that I'd cheat on you because you're the only one I want." You mumbled before pressing a quick kiss on his lips. Hoseok found himself nodding and smiling at you. He picked you up and spun you around, hearing your giggles that made his heart swell.

Park Jimin:

Jimin rubbed his eyes, frowning on feeling the empty space beside him. The moon shone it's light through the curtains as the clock on the nightstand illuminated the room with its neon display. 2:03 AM. Jimin looked towards the bathroom, waiting for any kind of noise indicating that you were in there. And he did hear a noise but it wasn't from the bathroom, it was from outside of the bedroom. Jimin quickly got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom, looking around the dark hallway until he saw light coming from the study. He almost ran, curious as to why you were awake at this time. Meanwhile, you had managed to knock down the lamp on the table, wincing as it fell on the carpet with a thud. You continued writing messages on the small strips of paper after confirming that your boyfriend was, indeed, asleep. How stupid of you! Jimin peeked in at your form hunched over the table, watching as you tossed a paper behind you with a heavy sigh. Not being able to control himself, he opened the slightly ajar door and grabbed the paper, not even looking at you as you turned around with a horror-stricken face.

Home is the only way to describe you.

Jimin's lips quivered as he read the sentence, again and again, not being able to believe his eyes. Were you writing love letters to someone? He slowly lifted his head to look at you, his eyes glossy and sad. "What....who is he?" He inquired, unable to stop the tears from falling down. After all, he had given you everything and never once let you cry so what went wrong? You frowned, ignoring the chills that ran down your spine. "I don't understand." You explained, eyes widening as jimin clenched his jaw and punched the table. It didn't seem like he found out about your birthday present yet. This was something else. "Who are you writing this for, Y/N?! And don't lie to me because you know I will find out. He won't get away from trying to take you away from me!" He yelled making you flinch. Jimin had never been this mad at you so this was a first. You took cautious steps towards him and placed your hands on his shoulders. "I was making your birthday present, Jimin." You mumbled, looking at him with apologetic eyes. As soon as the words left your mouth, his anger deduced to nothing. "What? Th-then why are you making it at this time?" He stuttered, mentally slapping himself for reacting so harshly. You smiled softly and hugged him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Because my dear boyfriend doesn't leave me alone for a second, not that I'm complaining. So I don't have much of a choice but to do it at this time." You explained, feeling his body relax under your touch. A small 'oh' left Jimin's mouth as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Sorry. I promise I'll leave you alone. But only until my birthday." He said, pulling away and cupping your cheeks, smiling when you laughed. As much as jimin hated the idea of being away from you, he decided to give it a go. You didn't care that he found out that you were making something for him as long as he didn't feel insecure. He was exactly as you described him. Home.

Kim Taehyung:

"I need to get to work." You whined, trying to pry your boyfriend's hands off of you. He mumbled something sleepily and pulled you closer to him, not wanting to let you go. You sighed and looked at the clock, cursing under your breath on realising that you're getting late. Taehyung had already called in sick for you twice in the current week because he wanted to spend the day with you. You were surprised at how the company allowed it even though aware of taehyung's tactics. "Just relax, babe. I called in sick for you." Taehyung said in his raspy voice, your eyes widening at his words. A lot of emotions hit you all at once, anger, sadness, frustration etc. But mainly, you felt defeated. Because your plan of buying a birthday present for your boyfriend had gone out of the window. And the worst part, the next day was his birthday. You clenched your jaw and pushed him with all your strength, sending him down to the floor. He let out a yelp, closing his eyes and rubbing his back where he had hit it on the nightstand. You gasped on realising what you had done, shivers running down your spine when Taehyung stood up and glared at you with gritted teeth. Before you could get the words out, he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to lay on your back as he straddled you, pinning your hands above your head. "I don't understand the problem, love. You're acting like I committed a crime." He sneered at you, your heart pounding in your chest. You gulped, trying to decide if your complaining would make things better or worse. "I- I just had something important to do, Tae." You whispered, watching his eyes soften just for a second. It was probably because he loved hearing his nickname from your mouth. He tilted his head mockingly at you. "What could be so important, Y/N?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was definitely no use lying to him now. "It's your birthday. I just wanted to get you a present." You confessed, feeling his grip on your hands become loose. You had caught Taehyung off guard seeing as he never expected this from you. Yes, people did buy him gifts but they were just a formality. Coming from you, it meant a lot to him. He picked you up in his arms and hugged you tightly, kissing your head. "Really?" He asked while displaying his famous boxy grin. You giggled and nodded as he hugged you again before leaning his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry, my love. I shouldn't have reacted like that. Hit me harder next time, will you?" He said, his voice holding a little seriousness in it. You replied with a kiss, smiling when your lips met his. "Also, waking up next to you is the greatest gift I could ever ask for." He mumbled against your lips as your hands wrapped around his neck.

Jeon Jungkook:

You huffed and flipped the pages of the book, ignoring the knocking on the door along with jungkook's whining. It had been hours since you had locked yourself in the bedroom after having a small argument with your boyfriend. "Fine, I'll just apologize for all the things I think you're mad for. I'm sorry that I almost killed your coworker who was shamelessly eye fucking you. I'm sorry that I didn't let you attend your manipulative best friend's party. I'm sorry that I burned your favourite dress on purpose-" you were somewhat smiling at his apologies but when you heard him talk about your dress, you just couldn't sit there anymore. You opened the door harshly, internally wincing when it hit the wall at the side. Jungkook's hand was balled up into a fist and hanging midair, where he had been knocking on the door without a pause. "You burned that dress on purpose?!" You exclaimed, not believing what you had heard. Jungkook cleared his throat and put on his scary demeanour but you seemed unaffected by it. "It was too short, Y/N." He stated, putting his hands in his pockets. You scoffed and walked past him, hitting his shoulder with yours. You were almost in the living room when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and turning you around. You gasped when your back hit the wall and Jungkook stood in front of you, his hands placed on either side of your head. "You can't stay mad at me forever. And that too without telling me why." He complained, frowning at your arrogance. Lately, you had become a little too comfortable with him and that made you lose all the fear you had regarding him. Now he was just your crazy but amazing and handsome boyfriend. "Watch me." You challenged, feeling your confidence waver when his eyes turned darker. "Y/N." He taunted, moving closer to you. You turned your head to the side to avoid his eyes which didn't look so innocent anymore. "I'm gonna stay mad at you forever just because you didn't give me my space so that I could plan something for your freaking birthday." You said hurriedly, clamping your mouth shut immediately when you realized you had told him everything. It was actually quite amusing to watch him struggle but maybe it was getting too much. Jungkook's eyes widened as he took in what you had just said. He had been wracking his brain with all the things that might have upset you but here you were, sad that you didn't get to do anything for him. You were too adorable for his heart to handle. He chuckled softly and leaned his head on your shoulder as you frowned. "That's it?" He questioned with a grin while you rolled your eyes. You pushed him away and started walking away. "It's a big deal for me, okay? I love Jeon Jungkook too much to just let this day go by without a celebration." You replied, crossing your arms. Jungkook rushed to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind, hugging you with all the love he could muster. "I love you more, princess. Now for the birthday, you plan out everything and we'll spend the day however you want. Will you forgive me then?" He asked, kissing your neck as you smiled. "We can work with that." You said, turning around to hug him back. Jungkook was glad that he had taken it in his hands to make you his. Things could have gone bad but they hadn't and he was grateful. Anything to be with you.

This turned out to be too soft and now my heart can't handle it. I'll just suffer while you check out other imagines on my blog. Thanks for reading!

- XX