#God Didn’t Give Me Focus Because He Feared What I’d Do Disorder

[adhd-culture--is]

adhd culture is that whenever u take ur meds (or just caffeinate yourself) instead of just being like neurotypical, ur Can’t Sit Still Disorder turns into Man I Really Wanna Solve A Sudoku Disorder

[castiel-kline]

Rescue

(also on ao3)

Jack’s got a lot of new responsibilities to take care of, but first he has someone to save from the clutches of the Empty.

for @dadstielweek day 6: missing scene

-

The Empty felt much less daunting than the last time Jack had been here. It was still unsettling, of course, but he was prepared to face it now. He knew what he’d come for was well worth it.

The Shadow slithered up in front of him, coming together in a familiar shape. His mother’s face smiled at him, eyes dark in a way Kelly’s could never be. And he felt a pang, because he missed her like always. He hadn’t been to see her, not yet. But that was next on his list.

“Hey there, kiddo. Nice upgrade. You’re even more sparkly and insufferable than usual,” it began, tilting its head. “Don’t know why you think you have any right to be here, though, after what you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, trying to ignore the screams he could hear in the distance, muffled as if the throats they sprang from were stuffed with cotton. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up. I can fix it, I promise.”

“But you want something in return, don’t you.” The Shadow’s tone was flat, a brow arched in disdain.

“We can make a deal. I know you like those.”

“Yeah, when there’s something in it that suits me. You don’t have anything that I want.”

“I can make sure that you go back to sleep for good,” Jack assured, stepping closer. “You’ll get your quiet, forever. The Empty’s been in disorder for too long.”

“Uh huh. Might want to check your motivation there, young Atlas. Dishonesty bites.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched a fist, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not lying.”

“Aren’t you?” The Shadow ran a hand across his shoulders and down his arm, nails biting at the skin of his hand where it grabbed him. “You don’t care about my order, or my sleep. You just want your dead papa bear to hold you and tell you it’s okay.”

He gulped. “Just give me Castiel, and I’ll help you put everyone back to sleep. I know you can’t do it yourself, or you would have already.”

The Shadow yanked its hand away, glare sharper than any knife. “Get out, kid. I won’t ask again.”

“No.” Jack squared his shoulders. “I’m not leaving until I have my father back.”

“Newsflash, sport- God doesn’t have power in my domain. Everything Chuck managed was because I let him. Now that you’ve been grandfathered in -ha!- you’re stuck. Can’t hurt me.”

“Actually, I can. I’ve always had power here, since the day I was born. Since just a few weeks after that, when I woke you up. But I don’t want us to be enemies. I’d prefer it if we could come to an agreement.”

They would be enemies if it had really hurt Cas, but they could at least try to be allies first. He pinched at his palm, watching the Shadow think it over. It came closer, face softening in a syrupy false sympathy. It placed a hand on Jack’s cheek just like his mother had when he’d met her, and he tried not to recoil too violently.

“Oh, you poor, dumb, child,” it said. In a blink the hand on his cheek had moved, cupping his chin and squeezing his face with enough force to snap his jaw if either of them moved the wrong way. “Poor, sweet little fool. Castiel’s mine, and you’re not taking him from me. I won him fair and square.”

Jack managed to pull its hand away from him, heaving in a breath before he spoke. “Cas doesn’t belong to you,” he said.

The Shadow laughed. “And I suppose that’s because he belongs to you instead?”

“No.” Jack shook his head. “No. He doesn’t belong to me. He doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“Hmm. That so? Do you think Dean Winchester would agree with you on that?” It winked at him, smirk warping his mother’s mouth.

“Cas doesn’t belong to Dean,” Jack asserted, refusing to have his focus broken. “He belongs to himself. And you’re going to bring him back, because he deserves to live his life. He deserves to make his own choices.”

The Shadow moved forward and bopped his nose, punctuating each word. “Selfish, selfish, selfish!”

Jack jerked his head away. “This isn’t selfish. I just-”

“You need him. And that makes this valiant little rescue mission of yours as self serving as a buffet.”

“All I need is to know that he’s alive, and that he’s safe,” Jack said, surprising himself with the truth of it. “And… if he doesn’t want to stay with me, I’ll let him go. Because… because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten through to it, but then the Shadow turned away again, a finger tapping at its chin.

“Oh, but see- if I give you a freebie now, you’ll expect more later. And resurrections fray the threads of fate, you know. Very dangerous game. Or have you forgotten that what’s dead should stay dead?”

“I know. I know, and that’s how everything after this will be. Just, please… please bring him back.” His first day on the job and he was begging, betraying his desperation. Wonderful.

“What are you gonna do with all the other angels? The demons?” The Shadow was back to staring at him, but its tone was much less harsh. Tired. Maybe it was finally going to give in.

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “We might need some angels to restore Heaven since it’s failing, but… you can have a say in that. Before I put you back to sleep.”

“So, I get my sleep and you get Castiel?” Jack nodded, feeling like he had no more life than a popped balloon. The Shadow gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But you’d best not wake me unless the universe is ending again, capische?”

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t feel like that was enough. That it could ever be enough. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Happy family time.” The Shadow snapped its fingers before sliding away, and the ground began bubbling a short distance from Jack. Castiel emerged from the depths of the Empty, dragged out by inky tendrils. He looked awful, and Jack would have been angrier if not for his agreement with the entity being one breath from crumbling.

Cas hacked up lungfuls of goo until he could breathe again, collapsing onto the ground when his vessel’s shaking arms couldn’t hold him any longer. Jack could see the entirety of Castiel’s true form for the first time- the broken wings and the hundreds of eyes, old as time. The animal heads and the quaking limbs, folded into a kind and wizened package. It was tragic, and it was beautiful. His vessel’s face was covered in tears, and Jack was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d ever seen Cas cry.

He knelt down, swallowing hard, and placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder. He blinked the tears back from his own eyes.

“Hi, Cas,” he said, voice so soft he didn’t know if it had been heard.

“Jack.” Cas looked at him not with relief, but with panic. “What are you doing here? You have to leave. It’s not safe, the Empty-”

“It’s okay, Cas. I’m okay. And the entity- it’s not going to bother you anymore.”

Cas sat up, on Jack’s level now. He frowned, not understanding.

“You’re not dead again, are you?”

Jack smiled, a small ghost of a laugh escaping his lips. “No, I’m not. I have a lot to tell you, though.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he bit his lip to keep the tears in. Cas’ eyes searched his, a hand on Jack’s arm to hold them both steady. The moment realization hit, Castiel breathed out a soft “oh,” his eyes blowing wide.

“Jack, you’re… you’re the Lord.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m not anything special, and I’m not… I’m still just me.”

And Cas smiled, his eyes sad and yet the happiest Jack had seen since he’d made that godforsaken deal. Jack lost the battle with his emotions, feeling his face collapse into a mix of relief and sadness and fear and joy. Cas took him into his arms, both of them trembling but finding solace in the contact.

“You were always special, Jack,” Cas whispered. “And I am so, so proud of you.”

Jack shuddered, burying his face deeper into Castiel’s shoulder for just a moment before pulling back and looking him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to bring you back before, but I didn’t know how-”

“No, I’m sorry.” Cas gripped Jack’s shoulders, squeezing them before dropping his hands. As if to make sure Jack understood that he meant it. “I left at a very bad time, and I should have been there, to- to help with the fight-”

It was Jack’s turn to cut off the stream of apologies. “That’s not… I just really missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Cas smiled, just a corner of his mouth ticking up. It was strange to see it on so many other mouths as well, but in a way the sight of his true form smiling too just made Jack feel all the warmer.

“I, um. I think I can fix these. Your wings.” Jack leaned forward, fingers brushing at the air where the wings hung mangled and twisted in another dimension, shimmering far outside of corporeal view. He pulled his arm back once he realized that Cas had stiffened. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up at all-

“Thank you.” The whisper caught Jack by surprise, but he nodded and sent out a gentle wave of grace to put Castiel’s wings back to the way they should be.

Cas stretched them, lines of tension that Jack had never noticed melting away.

“Thank you, Jack,” he said. He sounded almost reverent, and Jack… Jack didn’t want to be revered.

He stood, extending a hand to help Cas up with him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, trying for a smile. It faded with his next words as he glanced away, eyes toward what passed for downward in the Empty. “I’ve caused you enough pain. I’m glad I could finally take some of it away.”

“You didn’t bring me pain, Jack. You-” Cas shook his head. “You just brought me joy. And my death wasn’t your fault, either. I don’t want you carrying that burden.”

Jack bit his lip and nodded, wondering if he’d ever be able to believe that. He thought maybe, given enough time, he could get there. Eternity should be plenty of time to work on his self esteem, after all.

“Are you ready to go back to earth?” Jack clasped his hands in front of him, studying Cas carefully for his reaction.

He looked like he was on the verge of saying yes, but then he frowned, eyes narrowed as he looked at Jack. Something flickered over his face.

“You’re not coming.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. I can’t.” Jack shrugged. “I have too much to do. In all of those other universes, there’s so much damage that Chuck caused and I can fix. And before that, I want to see my mother. Maybe I can make Heaven better too, since it’s not really very.... heavenly.”

“No, it’s… it’s far from perfect.”

Jack sighed. “Yeah. And… I think this is where I’m supposed to be. I’ll miss Sam and Dean, but I shouldn’t be there to write their story like Chuck did. They deserve better than that.”

Cas nodded, taking it in. “Okay. I’ll stay with you.”

“What?” Jack felt his eyes go wide. He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to Cas so soon after getting him back, of course, but he hadn’t dared do more than breathe a fleeting hope.

“I’ll stay with you. You said you wanted to fix Heaven. Don’t you think that’s my job, too?”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stay out of obligation. I want you to go and… and be happy,” Jack said, wringing his hands. Now that Cas could actually be happy, he should go and do it. Nothing else would make sense.

Cas sighed. Not a heavy sigh, but one of release. He looked up and around, breathing deeply, as if the words he was searching for lay in the nothing that surrounded them.

“I am happy,” he said at last. “I’m happy with you. Changing the afterlife -the world- for the better, side by side? It would be my privilege.”

Fresh tears sprang to Jack’s eyes, and he tried his best to keep them back. 

“Are you sure? Sam, Dean-”

“I think-” Cas said, gently “-that there’s much I need to figure out regarding that. But I’ve… I’ve finally accepted myself, in spite of… well. A lot of things. And some time away to feel like myself before I face it sounds like it won’t be so bad at all. Besides- our family wouldn’t feel right without you there. We’d be missing a very important piece.”

Jack nodded. He knew Cas was being vague, probably because he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever it was that had happened in that dungeon. But Cas was looking out for himself, for once, and Jack was grateful. They could process everything together. They finally had the time.

“You’re really going to stay?”

Cas patted his shoulder. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Jack pitched forward into another hug, this one far less desperate than the last. This one was a promise- of safety, of teamwork, of trust. Of family.

After a while they pulled apart, standing together against the great expanse of nothing. They’d have to make a plan for finalizing the deal with the Empty, for renovating Heaven… they had a lot of work to do.

Cas tilted his head and looked into Jack’s eyes, catching on to the fact that Jack was deep in thought. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Jack smiled. No, he wasn’t alright. But he would be, and that was all that mattered. He had his father, and he had his mother to visit and universes to save. He was going to be good.

“I am now, Cas. I am now.”

[darknessisafriend]

The melancholia of Commodus and your comfort.

I wanted to make this an imagine but there was so much that could be written that it would get multichapter and for now I have a lot of requests I’d like to write first. So I made it into HCs instead, but I might write an imagine on the same theme later. Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy! It’s been a while since I wrote about our dear Emperor and I missed it <3  Enjoy 😊

-        You were Commodus childhood friend, you had grown together in the corridors of the palace, despite different ranks, you were a freedwoman after all. But the little heir had never cared, for he only wanted a playmate to flee away from his instructors and he had no sister of his age, only brothers and to be with a girl was nice sometimes.

-        You and Commodus were very close, you watched him grow in a fine young man but terribly tormented, his father was an inattentive father, too focused on the matters of the Empire and the wars to bother with the fluctuating emotions of his little boy.

-        You supported Commodus on those moments, particularly when he failed a teaching from his father and felt once again unworthy of any attention, unloved. Or when he ran away from his professors to play sword with slaves or spread mischief. You saw him feel better when he did that, so you kept him company and kept an eye around to warn him if an adult was approaching. Some day you would even manage to sneak out of the palace for a ride. Making Commodus smile had become your daily goal as a child.

-        Even if your support meant a lot for him, he always wanted his father, his father’s love, approval. At least, your presence would help him to keep his head out of the water.

-        As child, he soon, learned to hide himself when he was tormented, instead of seeking comfort, of confiding in somebody. He would stay as much as possible in his bedroom, curtains closed, a small oil lamp for only light. Curved into a ball in his bed and enable to sleep because of nightmares or you would find him praying by his little Lararium, his shrine where he had a little statue of his hero Hercules but also his deceased uncle, mother and twin.

-        As he grew up and became a teenager, and then a young man, he felt slightly more confident because his father took him to the battle field and made him take part in his work, he was proud and eager to make his father proud when it will be his turn to reign over the world.  

-        But then, Marcus Aurelius broke all his hopes, taking from him what he had been raised to do, instead handing the empire to a soldier who only knew how to kill, nothing about laws or economics like him. His terrible insecurities surged back and led to an even worse event, Commodus, the son, had been wounded deeply and forever.

-        In public, he would always wear his mask of Emperor, unshakeable, and focused on his duty. But he couldn’t fool you, at least his eyes that in those moments could bear so much sadness and melancholia.

-        You would never leave his side, and he knew it. Sometimes he would burst into your room, escorted by two pretorians who closed the doors behind him, his mask would fall apart in a matter of seconds. You would feel his anxiety, as he shifted his weight on his other leg, his fists clenched,  he would tell you what good things he had done today, then looking at you expectantly, pain in his eyes as if you always disapproved of his choices and actions, desperately waiting for your approval and reward.

-        You would instantly get up, approaching him, brushing you hand against his “Commodus. You have nothing to prove to me, you are a great Emperor. The people love you, you have stopped the wars, you give them games, bread and so much more! You are worthy of the gods and of your father!” he wasn’t Marcus Aurelius but that didn’t mean he was a terrible Emperor. Only the conspirators, jealous, and senators holding to their privileges spread disorder and false rumors to damage his reign.

-        He wouldn’t answer and would throw his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as he cried in your neck, unrestrained sobs muffled against your skin and his tears wetting your tunic. Only with you, he could let go and be vulnerable without fear. He felt understood and cared for. He would stay in your arms until the tears stopped and only then, he would start talking, about his fears and terrors and you would listen to him and do your best to sooth him.

-        You would indeed encourage him to share what he has inside, because he would keep a lot , too much inside, which would increase his anxiety and make him paranoid to the point he would retreat for weeks and even months in a villa in the countryside, leaving power to others and keeping himself locked up in his safe and idyllic bubble.

-        Still, you would have to wait for him to come to you, when he felt ready. Because when you would come to him, he would usually send you away, coldly. Even if you knew it wasn’t against you, his mind was just in a dark place sometimes and he could get far of your reach.

-        With time, he would trust you more and more, and let his guard down more easily with you. You would be essential to his life like air to breathe and he always would take you anywhere he went, his hand reaching for yours, even in public. If he could take you to his sessions with the Senate, he would.

-        He would be very clingy with you, even requesting that you sat on his lap as he worked at his desk. And you would accept with great pleasure, it was better than to be by yourself or with other nobles anyway.

-        And again, with time, he would let tears free as he joined you in bed, you would entangle your legs with his, bringing the sheet up to his chin, and stroke his face, your thumb stroking his trembling lips while you kissed away his tears. Slowly, he would calm down, distancing himself from what upset him. And instead he would focus on your touch, your calm breathing and soothing words. Soon, he would feel sleepy, exhaustion getting the best of him, he would keep his arms tightly wrapped around you the whole night. As long as he had you, he would keep fighting and offer you the world.  

Commodus Harem: @skaravile​​ @lyoongx​ @weirdflecksbutok​ @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv​ @sgtsavoytruffle​ @ohcarlesmycarles​ @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercuryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix​ @the-joaq-is-extra​ @hopelessdisasterr @stellargirlie​ @rosebloodstuffandthangss​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria​ @sagyunaro​ @just-a-fucking-comedy​ @spaceinvader​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @lady-carnivals-stuff​ @sierraclegane​​ @legojorny​ @lemondedeniname​​ @hvproductions​​ @syvellsworld​​ @papercut-paranoia​​ @jokerflecker​​ @beautifulyoungprospect​​ @bring-your-holy-water @winterjasmine007​

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Dancing With The Devil Parts One and Two Thoughts/Moments That Stuck Out

(I’m going to put this under a read more before it’s long, but be aware there’s going to be talk about death, sexual violence, eating disorders and drug use)

General thoughts:

So I’ve made it pretty clear that I was definitely nervous about this coming out. Any long term Demi fan knows that making these documentaries have not turned out well for Demi in the past. Likewise, I have other concerns surrounding it. In saying that, I am also not egotistical to think that I know for sure this will be different or even if it’s not, that I can change things. I also feel a little better knowing that most of what was said so far has already been spoken about in interviews rather than it all coming out at once. Either way, as always, I wish Demi nothing but the best and hope that she is currently as okay as the documentary makes it seem.

The Scrapped Documentary:

One thing that really stuck out to me as soon as it was said was the implication that her friends lied their way through the documentary that never got released. On one hand it feels like a very friend thing to do, like we’ve all been there and done it with good intentions even if it was the wrong call to make. But I definitely think that when considering that the person who called 911 felt like they had to sneak away to make the call and everyone talking about how controlled they felt by having to be careful about food and substances around Demi, there seemed to be a major push to save face and save Demi’s celebrity persona over Demi. And I mean there’s no shock about that, we all assumed Phil wasn’t just in it for Demi’s health. 

But what I do find interesting is how Demi’s friend still believes that her old team meant well but was just unequip for dealing with mental issues. Once upon a time, I felt the same. Again, obviously they wanted her well for their own sake because they were making money from her, but I believed they at least wanted her well. But the melon cake revelation changed that for me. Like at that point I went from “The label clearly favoured Nick Jonas and didn’t handle things well but maybe he genuinely thought Demi couldn’t handle it” to “Demi’s team did not give the slightest fuck about her”. So I find it interesting that it didn’t for her friend and makes me wonder just how much of this saving face came from Demi herself (or what she thought she wanted) compared to her team. This is especially the case given the focus, and particularly Dallas’ words, on how she didn’t choose to be a role model but felt she had to be for her fans.

The Death Of Demi’s Father:

A little confession for you all, I almost quit watching this documentary 6 1/2 minutes into the first part. While I feel like almost everything else said in this documentary was at very least alluded to if not flat out said in interviews, this hit me over the head. I am someone who is estranged from their own father and knows that his epilepsy could cause his death at any time should a fit get that bad and that he doesn’t really have anyone who would be consistently checking in on him. So the fear of him decomposing in his flat all alone is one that is all too relatable to me. It is also relatable in terms of my mother, but at least she has my brother who wants to stay at home forever and I would call her even if I moved out, so it’s less likely. So yeah, the way Demi said it and knowing that Father’s Day passed in that time and she probably spends every Father’s Day regretting she didn’t call stings a lot and will almost definitely stay with me for a long time. 

I also related to her talking about her guilt of not helping him the way she feels she’s helped other with her advocacy more than I’d like. While not drug related, I’ve spoken a few times on my blog about how I reached a point with my mother’s bipolar and need for remedies to the legal issues that worsened her health where I gave up despite still advocating for others. And she’s pointed that out. But ultimately Demi and her loved ones are right; a person needs to want help to give it to them and trying to force help doesn’t work. It didn’t for Demi’s father and it didn’t for her until she was ready.

Demi’s Drug Use:

I didn’t actually realise Sirah was Demi’s sober companion and while I didn’t really know anything about her beforehand, I think her parts were among my favourites so far. She was honest, emotional, informative and really contextualised what she was saying not only in terms of Demi but addicts as a whole.

Unfortunately one of the most relatable parts of this documentary so far was when everyone spoke about how Demi seemed normal in the weeks before her overdose. To this day, a lot of my then loved ones, whether it be family or friends, still don’t know I went to rehab in my teens. A lot of the people who do know now didn’t find out about it until years later when I was ready to talk about it. Looking back, the only really clear sign I showed that something was “wrong” is that I went from being a teacher’s pet to skipping a lot of classes and heading home for lunches instead of hanging with friends. But given a lot of my friends knew I had gone through trauma and a separate death in the year before, they didn’t think anything of it. Like from memory, I think at “worse” there was a joke made about I had become one of them and cared about school less. Granted there is always the case that they realised but never said anything, but yeah, at least from where I’m standing, they never knew. And that’s why I will never judge loved ones of someone who does anything negative off the bat, because it, and especially addiction, can be so easy to hide.

I also find it really interesting and relatable that Demi linked her drinking with drugs like that. I spoke about this the other day in an ask, but the two have always been super linked to me. But what I find most interesting is that she spoke about it in connection to negative emotions. Because while yes, I have always connected both with negative emotions, for me, being in a negative mood has somewhat made it easier to not relapse over the years because I could justify it with “well I’m feeling bad, of course I want something to pick me up. That doesn’t make it what I need though”. Meanwhile, I found out last year that I still feel that need to use when drinking in a good mood and that freaked me out to the point I don’t drink at all anymore. Either way though, like I said, it was an interesting point to bring up the connection and definitely relatable.

This isn’t really about the documentary itself, but it really hit me how far I have personally come when she spoke about and started playing Sober. Like at the time Sober was released, I was so close to relapsing myself that I couldn’t bring myself to listen to it straight off and yet now I am really starting to feel like I reached a place where the future looks so bright.

The Sexual Assault:

I don’t really have much to say here past “god I wish this wasn’t so relatable”. During my time using, and even the early days of trying to get clean, I had someone in my life that would constantly try to start something sexual with me and when they realised I wouldn’t do it, they drugged me and did it anyway. And while that is clearly sexual violence, there still very much was that stigma of ‘well I was getting high with them anyway” and feeling like that made it consensual and realising down the track that no, it really didn’t. And while not part of the documentary itself (yet), Demi talking in an interview about how she invited the drug dealer back to her house to “make things right” afterwards really hurt my heart knowing how long I spent with the same delusion that this person would make amends too.

Other/Final Thoughts:

I find it interesting that Demi noted that this pandemic is pretty much what made her stop and fully comprehend all of her past trauma. In many ways, it reminds me of sentiments that Taylor has said in regard to Folklore and Evermore, so it’ll be interesting to see just how much of that makes it onto Dancing With The Devil: The Art Of Starting Over. I also find it interesting that according to wikipedia, the last part is meant to come out after the album which could be an implication that the album finishes at a point of Demi’s life before the documentary finishes.

All up, this documentary gives me a similar vibe to Taylor’s documentary Miss Americana where it somewhat feels like it’s more for the casual/non-fans because anyone who pays attention to Demi’s recent interviews will have heard/at least been alluded to nearly all of this information already. That in no way makes it a bad (half of a) documentary, it’s just an observation. In many ways, I also feel like that’s what made the content about her father hit harder too because it was new or things she has not spoken about in a while. It will be interesting to see where the next two parts go from here in terms of being more positive and/or the nitty gritty of picking yourself back up. Either way, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

[little-miss-dumpsterfire]

I think I made you up in my head - chapter two

Ah, yes, here it is. Part two of the total drama horror anthology no-one asked for. This chapter has already been posted on Wattpad (as have two others) but fuck it, I like it here. 

Fair warning, it does get pretty deep pretty quickly. So, let’s get into it. 

Chapter Two - I stared at my mirror; the mirror stared back

Trigger warning - eating disorders, self-harm (mentioned briefly) and blood/gore.

If you're not comfortable, please skip. 💛

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

Axel's complexion lightened as his eyes bulged from his head. His head was spinning, and the confined basement he was in was not making the situation any better.

"Someone... someone else's turn? What are you going to do to me? Fuck, I didn't tell anyone I was coming out here. Oh god, oh god. No-one's gonna find me..." Axel panted, his body aflame with anxiety as he felt his heart pounding in his head. The slight weight of a dainty hand on his shoulder broke his haze and brought him back into reality. He shook her hand off, backing away from Izzy slowly with his hands held up in surrender.

"Don't touch me! Please... wha- what do you mean? What do you want from me?!" he pleaded, his earlier arrogant façade cracking to reveal a vulnerable, scared young man.

Izzy looked at him, the flicker of the flame reflected brightly in her dull green eyes. She sighed before backing up to the brick wall, sliding down before falling in a lump on the cold floor. Her thin index finger traced over the scars on her wrist she had hidden behind her jacket and whimpered.

Izzy spoke softly, barely audible to her frightened guest. "They never stop screaming. I try to close all the doors in my brain to silence them but they still haunt me. Slowly creeping... like a dense cloud blocking out the sun. Nothing will stop them, at least nothing I do will stop them."

She raised her head again, eyes obscured by dishevelled strands of copper hair. Axel stared at her quizzically as if he had wandered into the psych ward accidentally. Clearly, he was standing in the basement of a schizophrenic hoarder who couldn't let the past die, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

"Listen, lady," he started, regaining his air of arrogance, "I've about had it up to here. I make a podcast about cursed movies and conspiracies to earn money, not to end up in a knock-off Warren's Occult Museum."

"You don't understand. You don't feel the darkness we felt," Izzy replied, staring over at the shelves. "The paranoia, the pain, the conviction that we lived in a sick man's simulation. But everything in here was bathed in the depravity of Total Drama, and like a cancerous tumour it infected us all."

Their eyes met - soulless against suspicious - and Axel took a step towards Izzy, crushing a fragment of broken glass in his wake. Kneeling to her level, he roughly took her chin in his hands and raised her face to look at him.

"You killed them," he accused Izzy, malice dripping from his voice.

Weakly, she responded, her voice getting caught in her throat. "N-no. I didn't. But I know what did."

She lifted her slim arm and gestured towards the shelves. "Those relics are tombstones. Go and pick your poison, if you really want to know what happened."

Axel stood up, wiping the glass fragments from his knees and cautiously wandered over to the winding labyrinth of shelves. His fingertips barely grazed the aged wood of the shelves, tracing the grooves and divots with his index finger. In the corner of his eye, a dark shadow passed him by, and he quickly whipped his head around to investigate. Turning to the shelf in front of him is when he saw the imposing dark figure: himself. Situated in his eye line was a sparkly pink hand mirror intricately embellished with golden sculpted roses. He leant in closer to the mirror; his reflection was a shell of himself, with black pits for eyes and a pitiful smile.

"You ought to be careful with that one, kid," Izzy warned him, rising to her feet and dusting the grime from her pants. "If you look too long, the darkness grows eyes. This I know all too well now."

Izzy walked up to Axel, slightly caressing the edge of the mirror. She sighed deeply.

"We all knew she was the prettiest from the moment she stepped onto that dock... But in a world of lions, you didn't want to be fresh meat."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was no secret to anyone that Chris didn't cast Lindsay for her personality. The shark had smelt blood when he saw her audition tape. Looking back on it now, her fate was sealed in those fleeting seconds.

Lindsay sat atop her bed cross-legged, her dog perched in her lap. Her hair had been brushed to be its silkiest, and the photos on her dresser cemented the point she was making.

"I have bikinis for every season, even the ones not listed on the calendar," she chirped, reflecting her archetype of the dumb blonde.

She was the dream girl for any man: honey blonde and curvy. Her 'assets' warranted attention from creeps shrouded in anonymity behind their computer screens and TV executives alike. Unsolicited strokes and caresses were handed to her regularly, and she lavished in the attention that her looks had bestowed onto her. The early bloomer with the IQ of a thumbtack was a thirst trap for the reality TV crowd, yet the elephant in the room was never addressed.

No one seemed to care that she was sixteen.

For those of us in her different teams, we witnessed these infidelities and stood idly by, our mouths wired shut by clauses, contracts and never-ending fine print. Lindsay may not have been the brightest bulb in the bunch, but the correlation between her body and the positive attention she was receiving was crystal clear to her. She felt the pressure of public scrutiny if she gained weight, had a pimple or even covered up her chest. It was during Action that the red flags appeared... I'd give anything to go back and change it all.

Half-empty bottles of lip gloss were scattered on the bunk bed as Lindsay struggled to find a colour that brought out the highlights in her hair. In her left hand, firmly grasped, was an antique hand mirror that she had repainted herself to match her personality. She applied a liberal layer of rosy-pink gloss onto her lips and puckered them together, staring at the shine in the mirror. A sharp gasp escaped from her lips as her blue eyes widened like saucers. Her gaze was transfixed on her mirror as she moved it around, attempting to shake what she saw away.

"Um, guys..." Lindsay started, a slight panic present in her voice. "There's someone in my mirror."

A bald girl scoffed and rolled her eyes, resettling her focus onto her nails. "No shit, Sherlock. It's supposed to be there. That's a reflection."

A faint, obnoxious voice could be heard from out the open window of the trailer.

"Actually, the presence of a reflection is due to photons coming off of an object to strike the smooth surface of the mirror, which subsequently causes them to bounce back at the same angle, ergo creating a person's reflection." Harold corrected from afar.

"Shut it, dweeb!" Heather called out, throwing a hairbrush at the boy.

"That hurt, GOSH!"

Lindsay became visibly more and more terrified by what she was seeing. Small tears began to pool in the outer corner of her eyes as her lips trembled fiercely. The mirror slipped between her fingers and landed with a muted thud on the orange carpeted floor as the blonde held onto her face protectively. A hairline fracture snaked its way across the glass, briefly eclipsing a dark smudge that quickly disappeared.

None of us girls took Lindsay's claims to heart. She always said that someone was looking at her through her mirror; hardly a surprise from the girl who couldn't remember her boyfriend's name. Something in Lindsay changed that day, and all of us were in the dark. She still fell victim to the paedophilic adoration of Chris McLean and his lackeys - submitting to every squeeze and fondle - but something in her eyes showed that her comfort in her own skin had dwindled.

The water tap squeaked as a thin stream of water dripped out, moistening her toothbrush. She brushed violently, minty foam spilling from her mouth as she desperately washed the taste away. It had consumed her waking thoughts; her mind constantly flashing back to what she had seen. Fear enveloped her in its heavy blackness, picking at her deepest insecurities. Her throat burned from the acid and the bitterness of the bile seemed to stain her tongue.

She stared at her mirror and shook her head, lightly tracing the crack on its surface.

"I can't become fat like Hannah. I'll never win my trip to Paris that way."

In the mirror, her reflection began to warp and distort, but Lindsay placed it back on the counter face down. Her hand wavered over the handle for what seemed like hours, and when she tentatively picked it up again, etched in what looked like blood spelt out an ominous message: EYE OF THE BEHOLDER.

In the weeks following Action's conclusion, images of Lindsay in her Wonder Woman costume were plastered on every tabloid site, every fan page and in every pervert's special photo folder. Her next two seasons played out very much the same, with sideways glances from the production crew eye-raping her on every occasion and her appearance being flaunted for more ratings. Gone was the girl with the backbone of steel who had stood up against Heather in a passionate act of defiance. In her place was an airhead overcome with fear and self resentment.

The click-clacking of her boots against the pavement was all Lindsay could focus on as the world went by around her. Wolf-whistles and cat-calls plagued her at every corner she walked past. She would usually stare into every shop window she passed by, gazing dreamily at purses on sale or new makeup products, but nowadays she scarcely looked twice. Not because she wasn't still obsessed with fashion, as she would always be. She never looked at her reflection because 'it' would be there. Every mirror, every window stared back at her.

She sat anxiously in the waiting room, fiddling with the hem of her skirt as she avoided the stares from the man next to her who was blatantly looking down her top. Her chest, whilst still well endowed, had shrunk, as had the rest of her body and it was starting to become obvious to those closest to her.

"Lindsay Marriott?"

Lindsay rose from her chair silently and followed, being lead down a short hallway into a room. Posters of the food pyramid and anatomical models were plastered on the walls as the strong scent of sanitiser attacked her nostrils. She sat down lightly, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and forehead. The usual small talk took place before the woman placed the cold diaphragm of the stethoscope onto Lindsay's back. Her vertebrae were prominent through her skin, sticking up tall like mountain peaks. The doctor breathed out a small sigh before sitting down across from her.

"Lindsay, would you mind standing on the scale for me?"

She timidly nodded her head, rising and walking towards the scale. Lindsay removed her shoes and stepped onto the scales, the doctor over her shoulder writing down the number. Settling back into their seats, the doctor stared into the eyes of her patient and how their bright blue hue was a stark contrast to her fatigued, gaunt face.

"Honey, you've lost five kilograms since your last visit. You're bordering on becoming dangerously underweight. I think it's time we seek psychological intervention. When was the last time you ate a proper meal without purging?" the doctor asked, an air of concern apparent in her voice.

Tears began to drip down Lindsay's cheeks as she spoke between sobs. "Months... I can't eat... it won't let me eat."

"Who won't let you eat?" the doctor looked quizzically at the young girl who was averting her eyes now.

"The person in my mirror," Lindsay answered matter-of-factly before lifting her head. Behind the doctor's head was a wall-mounted mirror, where she could visibly see herself and the back of the physician. A slow ripping sound filled Lindsay's head as the back of the doctor's shirt split into letters written by an unknown force.

"Lindsay, are you okay? You've gone quite pale. I'll take your blood pressure."

As the doctor turned around, red, pointed letters were emblazoned on the doctor's back.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER.

Lindsay jumped from her chair with a yelp and ran for the exit, bypassing the crowd of people in the waiting area.

That was the last anyone saw of Lindsay in public before... well... it's hard to put a word to what happened. Text messages to her phone went unread as she slowly slipped into her own self-imposed isolation. Her sister Paula would visit weekly and give us updates, but they were never anything to ignite our hopes or positive outlooks. On her last visit, she recalled that the stench of vomit would follow you around as plates of fly-blown, half-eaten meals were stacked up on the benches. Any mirrors in the apartment had been covered with blankets or covered with masking tape and the windows were blacked out with newspapers. Something had gotten its claws into Lindsay's head, and it was not going to let go.

The porcelain was cold against Lindsay's exposed thighs as she sat on the edge of her bathtub. Her pink mirror sat just within reach on the edge of the counter. The abyss. She had been holding in her hands the view into the abyss. Slowly, her skeletal fingers reached for the mirror, clumsily grabbing it before raising it to her face. Time seemingly stopped as she stared into the mirror, analysing her face; the sunken eyes and teeth slowly yellowing and corroding from the years she had spent purging. Before her eyes, the mirror once again warped until it showed what years ago her peers thought she had falsely identified as her own reflection.

Staring back at her was a decrepit woman with a face as bloated and waxy as a waterlogged corpse. Brown matted hair was plastered onto its face, slightly obscuring its eyes. Two large white orbs with pinpoint black pupils bore into Lindsay's soul as a grotesque smile crept upon its face, stretching its width from ear to ear. A silent scream left Lindsay's lips as black liquid began to seep from its eyes, nose and mouth, pooling at the base of its chin. In front of her was the shadow that had haunted her since she was sixteen, staring at her endlessly in every reflection, punctuating how ugly she perceived herself to be. Edging closer and closer towards the mirror, Lindsay couldn't tear her eyes away, paralysed in terror as faint whines wafted from under her bathroom door.

Paula found her three days later. The poor thing, I don't think the sight has ever left her, and in God's graces, I don't think it ever will. There's not enough therapy on this fucking planet that can erase that from the human psyche.

Paula walked into the apartment, distracted by a low buzzing sound. As she walked towards her sister's bedroom, calling out her name, the sound began to crescendo and a singular fly flew past her head. A distinct smell of rot and decomposition filled the air as she advanced slowly to the closed door of the bathroom. Her perfectly manicured hand gripped the knob strongly as she turned it, opening the door slightly. A swarm of flies buzzed through the open door, obscuring Paula's vision in a haze of black. As her eyes settled, they landed on what the flies had been inhabiting: Lindsay's corpse. Paula tried and failed to suppress gags as she saw her sister's dead body, eyes gouged out by her own hand in an attempt to stop what she had seen. A tacky layer of old blood surrounded Lindsay's head as hundreds of squirming bugs wriggled around in her empty eye sockets. Laying ornamentally atop the pink hand mirror were two eyeballs; their blue sparkle dulled and glazed over.

Scrawled in lipstick all over the walls of the room was one simple phrase.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER. EYE OF THE BEHOLDER. EYE OF THE BEHOLDER.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"In my head, Lindsay didn't fall victim to herself," Izzy concluded, staring at her appalled guest, "she fell victim to the industry. The sharks in suits who groomed her and fed her insecurities until the societal norms of beauty ate her from the inside."

Axel stepped wearily away from the shelf, in way over his head now. What had started as a cash-grab to use as a clickbait-eqsue podcast had now escalated to a trip to hell... and once you're in hell, only the devil can help you out.

[aglimmerintheriver]

How to mentally keep baneful spirits out - no tools required AKA How Not To Give A F*** About the Uninvited

You can find so much info on here and throughout the web about negative entities and protecting yourself from them. Just as there is so much info, there are all of these different perspectives on how our energies associate with them. In this post I hope to cover a lot of different perspectives, as well as some creative methods for dealing with baneful spirits and your own defense magic tool set.

Introduction

A lot of mythical creatures are based in energetic truth- the vampire is aligned with the energy vampire, the evil and feared witch (like in the Witch movie) is aligned with the early-Christian understanding of the Wise People. The word Witch came from Wic, which means ‘Wisdom’ in Germanic languages. Think of anything given malevolent or benevolent power in the media, and you can likely tie it to misconceptions about the witchcraft and pagan community.

In Shonda Rhimes’ “Grey’s Anatomy” there is an episode where Dr. Miranda Bailey talks about how her OCD creates negative, scary fears within the mind that feel so real that they become real, but she also says that if her mind can think up and believe in these terrible, scary things, she can also think up positive things that make her feel better about those fears- things that help create a buffer, to save her from being so afraid. I’m completely blanking on which episode this was, if you know please let me know and I’ll add it in. By bringing this up, I want to point to something that inspired me to write this post: that elasticity of our perception and of the power we hold within ourselves being dependent on our awareness of our power.

All of this to say that this is not a post created for someone experiencing demonic intrusion. I may or may not have experienced this kind of interaction and if I have, I was simply saved by calling on Jesus (holy freaking heck did not expect the Christian god to help me out but he did) and asking that he save my soul from the attack. If you are under demonic attack or believe that you are, please consult a shaman or a witch who knows how to deal with demonic power. My understanding of demons is that they were the very first spirits here, and so they are the oldest of the old and have a lot of power. That’s not to say your power stands no chance against them, but if you feel overwhelmed by the spirits you’re facing, a lot of the times it is helpful not just for our spiritual protection but also for our perception of how safe we are to call on someone outside of us for help- whether that be a deity or other type of spirit we revere as having badass protective strength or another human we believe can help protect us/banish whatever’s in your sphere.

Perception and Reality

What we believe is what we see. Another way to phrase this is, ‘Where the mind goes, your energy flows”, a very famous phrase within the spiritual community (I believe it has Buddhist origins but not sure of who said it first). This is why a lot of witches are recommended to meet with a therapist or psychologist regularly to ensure our mental health is strong. A lot of people within our community believe that mental health creates spiritual gaps wherein baneful spirits can creep in and target us, but others believe that the cause of mental problems is our spiritual health itself. I’m in the camp of believing mental health is important no matter how you see the correlation- taking care of your brain is just as important as keeping up with the rest of your practice. 

Another aspect of protection and magic is not just ‘what we see’ but how. To bring in a little cognitive function theory, someone with extroverted intuition (or Ne) would likely see a situation and the world from twenty or more different lenses. This is like viewing the world through a multi-faceted crystal and being able to look at all these different crystal-edges and see a different distortion. And that’s really what our view is mostly, because it is nearly impossible to go around living your life and be able to see everything EXACTLY as it is. It’s just not reasonable to think you’re going to be able to have a clear lens every time. If you do and if you’ve developed that, please share how you did and help me figure that out haha, but until then I’m going to work with my understanding that our perception is going to have some type of illusion to it.

And here comes what this post has been leading to- the thing I’m excited about. The Imagining, and the power in that imagining. This is mental craft.

The You-Shaped Perception

In focus meditation you’re told that attention to the breath or to one sensation is important, because you’re narrowing your cannon-sized attention to the size of a pinhole. In much the same way, mental magic is about not just changing your lens, but also how you use that lens.

You       can.         do.            Anything.

It’s true. I mean, within physical means, right? You’re only going to fly if you know how to build mechanical wings, so this isn’t some offhanded promise meant halfheartedly. Nope, I mean this with all of me.

The mind is our friend and our enemy. I’m not even a big fan of meditation and yet I know that. It’s that changeable lens we see things through and how we think of them.

Our mind, my friend, is our power.

In speaking of the mind, I am not just thinking about your brain matter, or your reason, or whatever. I’m talking intention (leading to manifestation) and conscious attention to changing our thoughts.

Think something long enough and you start to believe it. Don’t like your thoughts, or how you feel? What thought or visualization would help you feel better?

There are rabbit holes we fall into where we either can’t control our thoughts and feelings due to mental illness and other times when we just don’t want to control them. Sometimes it feels good to be swept away by our own ocean of emotion and madness. It’s part of being human. The former situation (with the rabbit holes) is likely to be helped by a mental health professional and possibly some anti-depressants. The latter can  a p p a r e n t l y  be helped by meditation. 

(Also, did you know that meditation helps grow the gray matter in your brain? Sitting down and just watching your thoughts pass like clouds, allowing your body to rest, opens you up to expanded compassion, self awareness, contemplation, and helps your memory. If anyone is interested in practicing this, I’m going to be working through this free online MBSR/Mindfulness course in the hopes of helping my depression and my powers of intention- it looks like a great resource especially during this time of political and global tension. I believe our souls are deeply connected to one another and also to the overall soul of the world. Everything that happens in it is something we collectively experience and all of the stress along with this social isolation that the majority of us are experiencing is incredibly traumatizing. I highly recommend checking this out and seeing how it affects you over a few weeks’ time: https://palousemindfulness.com/ )

The point I’m trying to make here is that 98 times out of 100 times, YOU control your perception. And that’s a very empowering and creative thing. Especially when you identify as a witch 😄

gif of Joaquin Phoenix as the joker with a smiling mask on, then pulling up the mask and grinning.

DAMN TABITHA JUST GET TO THE POINT ALREADY

Okay okay. Here’s my point.

You can use creativity in your craft. You know this already. But you don’t need a book of spells (they’re fun to read though) and you don’t need the latest books on psychic magic. You can seriously just use your magical brain.

Intention is everything. Your natural intuitive powers are where your strength lies- I’d say it’s the key to unlocking whatever the heck you want in life. 

Look at your life like it is a children’s story book or movie, alright? It sounds stupid but please stay with me if you made it this far, because I think this is where it gets good. You know how the main character faced this seemingly impossible task or challenge, and they didn’t know how they’d do it but they did it anyway? Things just worked out for them, either because they did some work to help meet their goal and they fought to believe in themselves, or because the writer(s) wanted to throw them some tools that would help them easily get their goal.

You’re the main character and you’re the author of your story. And not only are you the author, but you’ve got all these spirits helping you co-author what unfolds in your life. So it doesn’t matter if there’s a damn fire-breathing knife-throwing monster standing on top of you while you sleep because in your witch brain, all you need to do is say “I am stronger than you will ever be. I am the apex predator” and watch that nasty bugger fucking deflate.

What is the most empowering thing is realizing that you are worth fearing, yourself.

Now this isn’t an excuse to take on a bad-bitch persona and mess your life up. Don’t go around hexing people willy nilly, please. Don’t think you can conjure a demon and be able to control it.

Just know that you can control yourself and the space you’re in. Cause you a badass, bitch.

An actual example from my real life

I have a little known disorder called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Essentially it’s scary AF because I have dislocations on the daily and they’re painful and honestly, it’s the bane of my existence. 

That’s not even exaggerating haha.

So along with it comes a lot of second guessing self worth, because of how it’s perceived and how I’m perceived because I’m a lady with EDS. The questions I’ve fielded, the conversations I’ve had, the experiences I’ve had to deal with as a result of it are utterly ridiculous (sometimes, downright despicable). 

One day I was talking to my therapist about self-perception and not feeling strong enough to face life with my handicap, and she asked me to point out the strengths it’s encouraged in me. I was able to point to a few things and while I did, I could see Brigid beside me and this oak shield forming around my body, and I imagined that every word I spoke, every good quality I have grown from having my disorder, made that shield stronger.

There are the times when I rabbit hole and I forget what that armor means and looks like. I forget that it’s there. But inevitably, something happens that would normally feel like it was undermining me and instead, I remember that oak shield and Brigid’s protective, loving energy, and I remember how expansive it feels to see myself as being worth this life and as having valuable traits to offer to the world. That’s when I see that shield again.

As you can see this isn’t only for spirits, but it applies even in those situations too. I’ll detail my channeling session that ended with calling on Jesus another time haha as this is getting quite long. To wrap this up:

TL;DR: “How not to give a f*** about unwanted spirits”

- Decide not to give a f***

- Decide what you will give a f*** about

- Find a couple practices for protection that you like and stick with them

- Know what clairs you have that are strongest (and if none feel that strong right now, that’s perfectly normal. Don’t put pressure on yourself, just enjoy exploring how your intuition works and pay attention without obsessing (or try not to obsess anyways). You have time to experiment with intuition, I’ll try to find some good sources for this and write something for those of you frustrated with figuring out where your skills lie or how to use them.

- Know that they’re working, that you’re a freaking badass witch, and that nothing can come into your space without earning your wrath (which can just be a GTFO and a call on your fave deity if you like)

A lot of the time, spirits who show up don’t actually have any dominion to stay. You have the power. You own the space, you own YOUR space (the space of your body). So own that you own it and do it with certainty. Feel the POWAH haha.

Sources mentioned:

https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2011/01/eight-weeks-to-a-better-brain/

[jam-knife]

The Greenhouse

// a short story dedicated to @caustic-c. Here’s some context for what you’re about to read, and here is the post that served as inspiration. Very not safe for work below cut. Warnings: dub-con, a bit violent at it. The language’s very crude. (Non-explicit) mention of personality disorders.

Note: you can use this as reference for our thread, C. I’ve actually spent several hours on this already so I won’t be replying to that today, but in the meantime please accept this! Hope you enjoy it.

After that night, B couldn’t have predicted L would demand a reunion with him ever again. But, honest to his vile reputation in spite of B’s surprise, the detective seemed eager to further demonstrate the extent to which he wished to humiliate him. It seemed that robbing him of his virginity under false pretexts of youthful abandonment, and dragging his dignity across the floor while at it, was still not enough. He wanted to infect B’s memory so that the poisonous idea of him would remain when the flesh no longer did.

“Good afternoon, B.” He said, the cold bitch, as he put down the spoon and took a sip of a beverage that was more sugar than tea. Black wide eyes fixed on B, making him sick. “Will you not join me?”

“I’m still overcoming the shock.” He answered while displaying a purposefully forced smile. “I thought you said that, luckily, we would never see each other again. I was counting on it.”

“That’s funny. I made you out to be good at working under unexpected circumstances.”

“And I made you out to be too proud to contradict yourself. I guess my people-judging skills are still a work in progress.”

“Just ‘guess’?” A muscle in B’s jaw twitched, but he made a conscious effort to stay put. He didn’t want to give the man any more proof to label him an impulse-driven animal with anger management issues. “Well, since you won’t be taking a seat anytime soon, let’s go for a walk.” L put the teacup down and stood up.

The walk through the orphanage’s grounds was sluggish and silent. B didn’t feel like addressing L or recognising his existence, and L didn’t seem eager to force him just yet. It was alright, in a way, but also annoying since B couldn’t dillucidate why the detective would waste his time if he didn’t intend to talk.

However, that silence was unlike any other they had shared before. It was not the sweet awkwardness that should follow a steamy night in the sheets and several months of separation. Nor the kind that they had purposefully held during late night meetings, as curious gazes flirtatiously wandered about. This silence was thick with uncovered deception, resentment over harsh words, and the stifling awareness that giving away how much anger lingered would be more dangerous than cathartic.

“It has been a while since I last been here.” L, finally, said. “The gardens look good. Are the greenhouses new?”

“Yes. Some of the kids got interested in botany after that class on natural poisons.” B replied conversationally, as he followed L, who had stepped into one of the structures. “I wouldn’t touch anything if I were you.”

Though, knowing who this particular greenhouse belonged to, the risk of the mighty international-reputation detective being poisoned by a colorful plant was insignificant compared to the pandemonium Roger would unleash if L spotted and informed him of C’s massive cannabis supply.

“I see… I’ll choose to believe none of these are being used by the kids for purposes that are not purely educational.” L replied, definitely having spotted it. “Do you-”

“L, what do you want.”

B cut him, and the detective went carefully silent. Enough of this bullshit, he had no time for it. He had no need nor desire to engage in conversation with his predecessor, and every minute that was ridiculously wasted away was a new test of his patience.

“I thought you made your point clear last time. I’m not fit to inherit the title. I’m too volatile, and selfish. If anything, I’m surprised you didn’t shove whatever that idiot psychiatrist fed you in my face too.”

“Your conversations with Dr. Jeffrey are protected under professional-”

“Yeah, right. And now you’ll tell me my little ‘disorder’ has nothing to do with the Successor’s game being rigged.” L’s expression darkened at that. “Oh? You thought me too stupid to figure that much out?”

“No.”

Beyond looked away, and focused on his breathing. He counted to ten, then backwards, just like the aforementioned psychiatrist had advised. Lashing out now would do nobody no good. The momentary pleasure that would come with smacking the mighty L across his stupid face was not worth the consequences.

This whole situation was ridiculous.

“Why did you call for me?” It was a rhetorical question… he didn’t need or want an answer. What he wanted was to walk away and never see L again, this time for real. Fuck the title. Fuck this whole god-forsaken place. There was never a chance for him here to begin with, so the least self-indulgence he should be allowed was the right to refuse to put up with this bullshit.

But that was not the reason why L’s answer -which came soft, wary, and after a long hesitant pause- shocked him.

“I want to have sex with you.”

B froze. Blinked. Stood still for a while longer, then turned to direct an accusing glare at L… but the detective wasn’t looking back, his eyes cast down instead, his sharp cheekbones dyed a subtle pink. A fake expression. It just- it couldn’t be genuine.

“What the… do you actually think me stupid enough to fall for that bullshit again?”

One, two, three-

“I’m serious.” L retorted, growing redder.

“Why the fuck should I believe you.” In spite of how angry B was, he didn’t raise his voice, and limited his true feelings to a gelid glare. “You spread your legs and begged me to fuck you, then merely hours later you claimed it was a test, and treated me like less than shit. What makes this any different?”

“It’s not…” He was saying, but he shrank when he noticed B’s rejection written all over his face. “I… I know you don’t believe me. You’re wise for not doing so.”

“No kidding.”

“But I can prove it to you.” L moved one step closer, his eyes, full of intent, fixed on him. “I can show you-”

To the detective’s distaste, Beyond laughed. But the sound held no joy, just resentment.

“How desperate are you… seriously.” He leaned back, supporting some of his weight on the edge of the table behind him. “How badly do you plan to degrade yourself just to make a fool out of me…” L’s only answer was a bashful blush. B looked away. He couldn’t handle that sight right now. “What is this, L… what can you possibly gain from manipulating me into having sex with you again? Or what, are you still bitter that I said you’re sad? Whatever you’re trying to prove, either to me or yourself, I’m not letting you use me to do it.”

“But you liked it.” Was all the man said, after a long silence. B didn’t answer, and L, realizing this, pushed further. “I know you did. I… liked it too. I want it.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t believe I mean it.”

“Because I’ve moved on, L!” B grit his teeth, mad at himself for revealing how upset he was. One, two, three… “What were you expecting… that you’d tell me how thirsty you were and I’d jump right into it? After you delivered a whole fucking monologue explaining how you manipulated me? You can’t seriously think I let my bed grow cold without you.”

“No… I guess not.”

B blinked. L’s voice sounded lower than usual, his breath uncharacteristically strong. His eyes now mirrored some of the hostility B himself felt. This was pointless. He couldn’t take his anger out on L without fearing getting kicked out of the orphanage, and this whole ludicrous situation wasn’t even half as hilarious as it should have been in theory. Not even L’s evident irritation brought him any pleasure.

He moved, shifting his energy towards the exit -but didn’t even get one step taken before the detective’s hands were on his chest, pushing him back. The edge of the table dug a painful line on his lower back. There was a clatter, and a pot fell. It was smashed on impact spreading dirt all over the floor.

But that barely registered in B’s mind. His whole focus was on L, now on his knees in front of him, pulling B’s shirt up to expose the front of his jeans.

“What the fuck are you-”

“What does it look like?” L didn’t waste another second, and simply unzipped them, revealing B’s underwear. Long pale fingers were steadily finding their way into the elastic waistband-

B grabbed L aggressively by the collar of his oversized white shirt.

“I said I don’t want to. What is wrong with you?” He growled, his cock blatantly soft beneath the clothing. But then the detective raised his eyes, wide and glistening with lust, to his face. He stared at B, flushed and determined, from below. And against his will and common sense, B felt his lower, stupider half twitch in anticipation.

“I’m proving you how serious I am.”

“You’re sick…” B muttered, and L’s eyes gleamed when he, too, detected the decrease in his resistance.

“Push me away then.”

B wanted to. Every part of his mind was screaming, yelling at him to do so. But his hands were frozen, and it was way too easy for L to push them away and pull B’s briefs down. There was no ceremony to it. No games of seduction, no intent for tease. L simply took his semi and guided almost half of it into his hot mouth.

B cursed in his mother tongue, his hands grabbing the table so hard the wood creaked and his knuckles turned white. L’s technique for fellatio wasn’t great, but it was definitely doing something, B thought begrudgingly, when his dick hardened completely against the roof of L’s mouth. It only made him angrier… it was unfair that he couldn’t dismiss L’s ministrations with the same displeased indifference he felt for him personally. But he shut his eyes and forced himself to endure it, not wanting to kick the man off him and finding his dick scraped by teeth.

He hated this. He hated L. Hated that he couldn’t stop it. Hated even more that it felt too fucking good. A shuddering breath escaped his mouth; it was mortifying. The man on his knees was eager, compensating his lukewarm skills with sheer enthusiasm, and B grew closer to the edge as someone being harshly, forcefully dragged by the ankles against his will would.

The only idea of L bringing him to a rough, jarring climax made him taste bile. So when he felt himself pulsing and leaking, he shut his eyes tight and channeled his energy towards imagining A on his knees before him, sucking him dry. If he was going to cum anyway, he wouldn’t do it with L in his mind. He plunged himself so hard into the fantasy he found himself, in those last moments, digging his hands in raven hair -coppery in his imagination- and messily thrusting into that hot tight throat. L choked, but B paid him no mind. He was too busy having what was probably the most violent orgasm in his life so far. B moaned, long and ragged.

And then it was over. He was panting, coated in sweat, and L was coughing. His face was flushed and there was semen dripping down his chin, but he looked strangely satisfied with himself. It was irritating.

“What the hell are you grinning for.” He growled, fighting his dazed lethargy and tucking himself back inside his pants.

“Sorry, I was of the impression you enjoyed that.” The detective replied, still hoarse yet cockier than ever, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Don’t take my having functional genitalia as a personal victory.”

“Oh.” L then stood up. B realised he was incredibly close, now that he wasn’t kneeling. He had his eyes narrowed and he smelled of sex. “Would you like it better if I were writhing in pain?”

B glared at him. He had to admit, the appeal of bringing L to that state was growing stronger by the minute.

“You know what’s most pathetic?” He spat, finally, as his eyes dragged down and spotted L’s boner. “If I slammed you face first against this table and fucked your brains out until you bled, you would let me.”

“Try me.”

Their eyes locked. And fuck, B might as well do it. He could feel it itching on every nerve end of his body: the desire to hurt. To raw that fucking bastard until he tore him in half, to choke him, to get off on his screams of agony. The only thing stopping him was knowing that it was exactly what L wanted. Not the pain, but to prove he was right about B.

Beyond reached out, and cupped the bulge in L’s jeans. That caught the man off guard. He gasped, and that noise slowly melted into a pleased whine as B massaged his cock through the jeans. His hands came to rest on B’s chest, his forehead on B’s shoulder, and he rocked his hips against B’s palm. B leaned into his ear then.

“Jerk yourself off, you pathetic excuse of a man.”

And he pushed the detective away. He didn’t wait for L to regain his balance and reply; no, he simply walked away. Found the nearest wall and punched it. When A asked him about his split knuckles he didn’t answer.

[btxtreads]

ANOTHER TAG ASHJHJASD

extra long tag game (aka a tmi that no one particularly cares for)

tagged by @txthearteu​

tagging @markhyucknorenminchenji​ @qtsoobin​ @beomberry​ @txtdiaries​ and other people who wanna do it idk

ONE

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

of course, none other than king943 hSJADJSAJHAS. He’s a little secret I’ll let you all in on: the first person I actually noticed in TXT was,,,,,,, Kang Taehyun hSDHJAHJSDAHSA but he wasn’t my bias. I just thought he was cute (also amused me bc my BTS bias was Taehyung and I found a guy named Taehyun cute), but I didn’t stan them then. I started stanning when I saw ONE DREAM.TXT where they talked to BTS and found them really cute and endearing. Looking into them, they were wild, and chaotic and so fun and also i got rEAAAALLY attached to Soobin. So here I am. There u go, my stanning story.

TWO

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

what’s your unrealistic goal for life?

becoming a famous actress or singer hJSHADJSA

if you had known that we would be in a global pandemic, what’s one thing that you would’ve done before things shut down (if they have for you)?

Went to a theme park. I miss going to theme parks 🥺

what’s an unconventional thing that you carry around with you when you go out?

hmmm most of the time i just go out with just my phone and money unless I need to bring a bag due to safety concerns/more items needed. So I’d say nothing unconventional.

favourite type of plushies and why?

God do I seem boring hsahsajjsa but i wasn’t too big on plushies. I had a gigantic teddy bear named Justin when I was a kid (it’s a bear with shades that my brother gave me) and I used to buy plushies whenever I’m in disneyland, it’s all in my sister’s reading lounge. The only plushie in my room now is a Mollang doll wearing like a blue shirt/dress, it’s my favorite rn It’s squishyyyy

favourite song right now?

right now, it’s Work It by Sabrina Carpenter.

something that you’ve always wanted to learn?

Dancing (i literally suck. i have no idea how. no joke), Vocal Lessons (had some lessons briefly for like a year but i stopped and want to take some again), music production, acting, hosting

tell a funny story about yourself (or just something that you’ve witnessed)

ok okok so one time in our class groupchat we were talking about class elections for officers. There were muse votes and some people were saying they want me to be the muse but i didnt want to bc i was busy with work. Then they started saying that they want me to be the muse and this guy that i rejected be the escort. while this is happening, i was simping hard for soobin in another chat. anyways, i got everything mixed up and accidentally sent the soobin simp stuff to the class chat and everyone thought i was simping for the classmate i rejected i was so asHAMED.

headphones or speakers? why?

speakers! idk i just like blastic the music loud.

craving any food right now? what are you craving?

anything with cheese

which music streaming platform do you prefer? why?

spotify since its free for me askjjksad someone pays for my subscription lmaooo

😌✌️

questions from cj to me:

android or apple? why?

APPLE because im loyal 😌 and i guess im just used to it so its easier to use for me + all my gadgets at home are mac

words of affirmation or physical affection? why?

I think there should be a good balance of both. The words will have the ability to give you this sense of comfort and satisfaction and you know just overall a peace of mind when you hear the right words??? and physical affection bc sometimes it’s just better to get a hug or a kiss isntead of talking yk? actions speak louder than words sometimes

bean bag or rocking chair? why?

Honestly, this would depend. If I’m reading a book and feeling very vintage with a hot cup of coffee, definitely a rocking chair. If I’m watching TV and basically just chilling I’d go for Bean Bag. I like maintaining the atmosphere.

do you view a half-filled glass as half-full or half-empty or an in-between? why? (go as deep as you can)

I view it as in-between, because there’s always room for improvement. There’s always things to change, and consider, and make better. There’s no such thing as perfect.

If someone were to grant your wish right now, what would it be and why?

Please stop corona right now and let everyone go back to their daily lives and please let me attend a TXT concert bls im begging on my kNEES

if someone were to give you anything you want right now, what would it be and why? (something that can be held)

Give me Soobin I just want to give him a hug. this is valid i can hold him

favorite season and why

Winter! Even if I’ve never experienced snow or winter before, the whole idea of snow is just really fun and endearing to me. One of my bucketlists is to see snow in real life. I think it has to do with the fact that I’ve always been this person to prefer the cold over heat.

what made you enter tumblr?

I’ve always been here! Just not in kpop tumblr. I’ve since deleted my old accounts and shame  but i came back to write. It’s always been so stress-relieving to me, to write without any expectations on my back because I’m thinking about grades or a competition. Also Soobin simping is a daily thing and I gotta release it somewhere man

are you happy with where you are in life right now? why or why not?

Yes. I may not be the richest or the prettiest, or smartest or whatever, but I have a good family that loves me. I have good friends that support me and I have TXT and BTS to help me cope when things get overwhelming. I have a job that gives me a little bit of income (it’s not too common for college students here to get jobs like in the US, most of them just focus on acads) and all the means to continue my education amidst the pandemic. So really, I’m grateful for where I am now.

to see the boys in real life but for it to happen only once in your lifetime, or to meet the boys via online fan meeting as many times as you can in your lifetime? why?

Why do you have to do me dirty cj,,,,, prolly online. I may not get to hug them or anything but I get to talk to them still. As may times as I want to. And as a girl whose sanity literally just depends on Soobin giggles rn it’ll be very therapeutic to me to see them and talk to them as much as I could, even just through a screen.

QUESTIONS FROM ME TO YOU:

Cinema or Netflix? Why?

Fire or Rain? Why?

What’s the worst experience you’ve had as a KPOP stan?

How do you handle stress?

Favorite Disney Princess and why?

Which fictional character do you say you relate the most to?

How did you get into KPOP?

What kind of merch you got 👀

Would you date a KPOP idol? What would you do if you do date one? (doesnt have to be your bias, just wanna see what y’all would do)

Would you rather be with someone you love but doesn’t love you back or be with someone that loves yu but you don’t love them back? (Or, as the Filipinos would say, Mahal ko o Mahal Ako)

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

FOUR

PERSONAL

name: -

nickname: rina

birthday: - 

zodiac: gemini

nationality: filipino

languages: english, filipino 

gender: female

sexuality: straight

height: 5′2 like 2 years ago, i probably grew like an inch or two 

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: --

meaning behind my url: bts and txt fanfics to read hasjhsahj

blog established: ,,,,, i cant remember askjjksdjkdsa but the blog is only a few months old!

followers: 384!!! love yall 

FAVORITES

favourite animals: b u n n y y y y y

favourite books: CAMP HALF BLOOD SERIES BY RICK RIORDAN IM ZEUS’ DAUGHTER YALL

favourite colour: black, blue, purple

favourite fictional characters: Percy Jackson, Jaron from Ascendance Trilogy, Chimmy!!! hihi

favourite flower: white roses

favourite scent: coffee

favourite season: winter

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: 3-5 or 8-10.

cats or dogs: dogs because cats scare me

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: coffee!!! especially if it’s iced and sweet

current time: 12:21 AM

dream trip: California. Look I have the visa, pls miss rona. just leave so cali can just let me IN

dream job: actress or singer

hobbies: writing, reading, watching crackvids

hogwarts house: gryffindor

last movie watched: Work It (bc it has sabrina carpenter ahshsahsa i have low standards when we talk about Sabrina)

last song listened to: Helpless - Hamilton OBC

no. of blankets you sleep with: 1

random fact(s): if given the chance again, I would go on a date in high school. Also try to exert more effort in my appearance back then i looked like an honest to god M E S S (tbh i still do but now i have eyebrow liner on) hsajhsajhh

FIVE

10 things I can’t stop listening to (at the moment)

Run Away - TXT

Work It - Sabrina Carpenter

Euphoria - BTS

Song Cry - Yeonjun

Helpless - Hamilton OBC

Satisfied - Hamilton OBC

Journey to the past - Anastasia OBC

Lost in the Woods - Frozen OST

Perfect Song - Sabrina Carpenter

Friends - BTS

[morlock-holmes]

I never said that I expected you to have *positive* strong opinions about that story :)

2) Damn, what I wrote could be interpreted as tumblr-style not-so-passive aggressiveness, “of course you'd dislike it because it shows how horrible you sound :) ” — it wasn't that, honest.

Oh, no, no, that's okay, I was theatrically overreacting, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

It turns out that I have a lot to say about this story, it's just all of it is negative.

Here are several billion more words of close reading that you may feel free to skip.

Everybody in the story talks like they're on the internet all the time. Tony Tulathimutte has a relatively good ear for how people talk about this shit on the internet, and I won't lie, one or two passages even moved me, but this is because we are projecting our own knowledge of why people talk like this onto the story, not because Tulathimutte has given any of his characters any real internal life.

The fact that his feminists and Bros are just as much two-dimensional troglodytes as the story's anti-hero doesn't make it better.

Also this character is not an overly scrupulous feminist. The entire first half of the story is meant to be an ironic send-up of the way his feminist pieties contrast with his actual behavior, and I'm surprised people don't see that.

For example:

One classmate junior year had a crush on him, but he wasn’t attracted to her curvaceous body type so felt justified in rejecting her, just as he’d been rejected many times himself.

"Curvaceous" is a euphemism for "Fat". Notice that the first time he rejects someone is given significant time in the story; this character later reappears, complete with eating disorder. The first time someone rejects him is entirely glossed over, with the woman who did it never appearing in the story and the whole thing glossed over and forgotten in a few words.

Wouldn't we expect this character to obsess over those first rejections? To play them over and over in his mind?

This is why I say that, as much as any individual passage might be moving, this character has no real internal life.

Note also that the woman's disquiet about her body is expressed in neutral, sympathetic terms ("eating disorder") and given a sort of origin story: we are told she was fat in high school, was rejected for it, and has since developed an eating disorder.

In contrast, the main character's dislike of his body is expressed in absurd, satirical terms (his obsession with "narrow shoulders") and we are never given any insight into why that became his focus.

Now that he’s self-conscious, he realizes he can’t compete along conventional standards of height, weight, grip strength, whatever. 

How did he realize it and when? Has he ever been shamed for his body? Notice that this realization predates his internet radicalization. Why did he fixate on his physical attributes, rather than, say, his economic situation? Tulathimutte shows no indication that the question has even occurred to him.

Nor, for that matter, does Tulathimutte spend much thinking on why feminism in particular appealed to this character.

Still, the school ingrained in him, if not feminist values per se, the value of feminist values. 

Ah, see, he always viewed feminism instrumentally, never as a serious deep down commitment.

But why did he choose that instrument rather than another?

Again, we won't be shown.

Also, in a different thread @thefeministthrowaway spoke very emotionally about going through high school and even into college terrified that any expression of sexual interest in a woman would constitute a terrible burden on her or even become sexual harassment, and scrupulously avoided it.

Our main character did not go through such a phase; he had, according to the narration, already been rejected several times in High School.

Which leads me to the question of why on Earth this is written in third person. A first person account might allow us to read the narrator as unreliable, reading between the lines to see that what he viewed as a lifetime of rejection was really him blowing a small number of incidents and misunderstandings out of proportion; the third person narration invites us to see it as fundamentally honest and accurate: he has already asked many girls out by the time he leaves high school.

Certainly he asks out several more in college; and rather than the exagerrated fear of imposition we have, he sends several pestering, passive-aggressive emails to a woman who turns him down.

This exact scenario happens four or five more times. 

He's not scrupulously terrified of women; he pursues them to an uncomfortable and borderline stalkerish degree.

Later, he has an exchange about sexual mores with men who are identified not as friends, but "co-workers", and he calls them out for their anti-feminist ways. This is part of a general issue where everyone acts like they're on the internet all the time.

I was once out with a friend of a friend who convinced us to go meet some girls he knew (No shit, part of his pitch was, "They're real dumb") and when we got to the bar they had an elaborate drinking game from their sorority days and part of the mnemonic for the rules was about "bitches."

So, as a brittle feminist, I of course got up and made a big speech about how they shouldn't devalue themselves-

Of course I fucking didn't. I privately thought "that seems like a gross way to think about yourself" while being God damned terrified of what I'd have to do if someone asked me a question about sex during the truth or dare part.

There's no awareness in this story about the difference between real life and internet behavior, or how they modify each other. (The same problem crops up later when QPOC friend calls him out in a way that, if we saw it as a Tumblr anecdote we'd all respond with, "And then everyone got up and applauded")

“Go ahead then,” his coworker smirks, “ask your female friends what they think.”

Bristling, he calls his QPOC agender friend from his college co-op, whom he’s always gotten along well with, in part because he’s never been attracted to them.

It took me a while to twig that QPOC here was assigned female at birth, even though on a second read the juxtaposition is obviously deliberate, but I just can't fathom why our main character appears to have no male, or even AMAB friends. Doesn't that seem utterly bizarre? That he's so self-conscious and self-hating and also totally willing to expose himself and his questions to women and co-workers?

Shouldn't that be explained?

This time she gives him a two-armed shove, sending him to the ground, and instead of yelling, her mouth opens into a smile and she says, “Oh my god are you wearing shoulder pads?”

Tulathimutte knows that sport coats and suit jackets can have shoulder padding, right? Like as a completely normal thing? Why wouldn't our main character wear a suit?

Does Tulathimutte not know about suits?

Anyway... I have trouble placing this story ideologically because the main character is an awful person but his feminist "friends" are gaslighting assholes and I'm really not sure if that part is deliberate or not. They tell him that he should never act like his bro-y co-workers while privately resenting the fact that he doesn't just go ahead and do what it takes to get laid again.

There's also his date with the girl from high school; her neediness and damage turns him off as much as his turns off other people, and also she treats him like shit, but his friends ask why he doesn't see her again.

I have trouble understanding whether we're supposed to see this double standard because, as I said earlier, her damage is comprehensible and sad while his is portrayed as a sort of BOGO deal, where every bad feminist dude has bonus body image issues shrink wrapped to him when he comes out of the factory.

Nothing in this story gives us any sense of why the actions any of the characters take appeal to those characters.

@self-winding I believe it was, said that the main character can't get laid because his try hard feminism is a turn-off and I really hope that's not the point because if it is, Jesus Christ this is just a circa late 2000s Amanda Marcotte style rant about "Nice Guys" that has been sitting in the back of the fridge gathering mold for a decade.

I know I said that I went in wanting to hate it, but I don't want it to be that awful.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

so prompted the other day from someone commenting on one of my personal posts lamenting on my poor time management skills and how I was a good-ish student without studying etc during early high school and then by year 10 I had fuck all idea how study..... I decided to look up adhd in girls. like obviously i am not self-diagnosing myself with it bc i know that it’s a super common and serious behaviour condition. but holy fuck, i just read something about it that hit me so fucking hard that.... fuck me. i just feel so attacked:

obviously I don’t relate to the softball practice bc I never did extracurriculars and I hated sport lmao. but the writing/writer bit. and “working overtime” to get a high grade on my english assignments..... as well as over-practicing my drama stuff at home and wanting my performances to be perfect.... i was known to basically everyone as a student who should’ve been in the top English class. but it was wrested away from me bc of my lack of understanding and appreciation for shakespeare in a year 8 in class assessment on Romeo & Juliet “being starcrossed lovers” that I basically failed bc I came out with a D instead of an A or a B. like fuck. this hit me hard.

they had another point about how the girl with adhd is usually the class helper- like I was in my english classes. bc I would edit everyone’s work, be their living thesaurus & dictionary, as well as giving everyone answers on the assigned texts, because i was the only person in my class who was bothered enough to read the texts in full and enjoy them. then I never received much thanks for it.

but my maths homework? never done. or my very occasional maths take-home assignments? done by my dad at the last minute when I remembered that excel was, in fact, an actual thing. hell I didn’t even do my CLASS WORK most of the time. i instead either half wagged my maths classes (I have several posts on this behaviour lmao) or purposely “fell asleep” in my maths classes as a joke for everyone to “wake me up (wake me up inside)” like Jeff from the wiggles. bc I thought it was funny. but now I’m 24 and never (really) learned how to read a graph or learned how to calculate the mean/median and average & range and mode or whatever the fuck, etc etc. like yeah. my maths is absolutely abysmal.

my geography homework and assignments? barely ever done. and again, at the vexation of the poor kids who were assigned to sit next to me and my year 9 geo teacher who liked me, my geo class work was never done to standard. and I would pull the same “wake up Jeff” routine in geography. even though I could’ve easily done well with that year 9 teacher and my year 10 geo teacher too bc at least we also got along.

my history homework and assignments? done, depending on the teacher, the topic and the type of history. like I was useless at modern history (bc I disliked it- especially australian history lmao minus Vietnam and maybe a bit of the Cold War era spy stuff... it was the politics lmao). but, on the other hand, I was pretty good at ancient history (until I had to try and write a historical essay- and that fucked me up big time in years 11/12 and also uni). i was also mega good at aboriginal studies (like aboriginal cultural history) when I swapped schools. but I dropped out of it, due to my fear of the major project which I knew I wouldn’t meet.... bc it was literally like 50% of the total subject mark at the end of year 12.

so then my focus aside from english & ancient history in year 12 became community and family studies/cafs/social studies and my technical theatre and events management course. which both ended up with marks near the 70s, I think, at the end of year 12. my teachers were good so I went okay.

my science homework? done sometimes, depending again on the topic and the teacher.... but also that one time one teacher wanted me to go to the regional science fair bc he thought my project was good.... but I didn’t do it bc i thought my work wasn’t that good and I didn’t want to do the extra effort of the boards and presenting it.... ESPECIALLY since I’d written that coke/coca-cola was “burp fuel” in my intro. like. burp fuel??? at the regional science fair? oh god. no. no thank you. that’s mortifying both back then AND now, looking back at it. but then again, maybe that’s the part my teacher wanted me to omit in the “clean up”/editing of my work for the science fair lmao. my biology stuff in years 11/12 though? awful. so much so that I solely passed year 12 bio with the miracle of mark scaling. and this was despite the efforts of one of my friends trying to tutor me in our shared free periods.

and obvs my PE stuff was never done.... even that one assessment that was writing/illustrating a kids book about how to be healthy. which if I’d done it, I would’ve probably gone well. but it was my utter distrust of the PE/sport faculty and loathing of sport, and also the fact that when I tried to write it; it didn’t seem authentic or genuine.... that drove me not to do that assignment.

aside from academics/grades.... the other thing that hit me was that adhd girls are typically seen as the “funny/loud/tomboy” etc girls but are also exceedingly shy. like that full on attacked me too. bc it’s exactly like my flip from catholic school to public school. going from being the loud & funny sailor mouth girl who sometimes asked crass questions in PE due to the shows she watched and to see if people would laugh and did whack shit in her drama classes..... but with mostly topsy-turvy marks. to being the quiet shy and suddenly high achieving former private school girl at public school who never did any loud shit out of the blue. like. yeah. like now when I look back at my facebook statuses about me in drama class or other dumb shit I did outside of drama class in catholic school I’m like “hmmm, can’t relate” and “what the FUCK that was ME??? I don’t know her.” bc of the nervous wreck that I actually am lmao.

there was one more point to that was like “adhd boys will typically sit “with one foot on their chair in class”. and I was like. “hmmm. why does that remind me so vividly of my year 7 geo teacher/year 9 commerce teacher frequently labelling me as a “health hazard” bc I’d sit cross legged on my chairs during class????”

I also had a flashback while reading that particular article, to how, in primary school, my teachers regularly encouraged the kids who were assigned to sit beside me on table groups or whatever in class; to put a ruler between us to mark out our separate sides of the desk; so that whoever sat next to me had their own desk space and I had mine.... all bc my side was frequently unorganised/messy. that’s because when I physically handwrote things, I’d tire quickly and so slouch in my seat a bit and put my head on my other arm to write (this is my condition hypotonia/developmental coordination disorder).... so I took up a load of desk space doing that. while the other person’s side of the desk was usually neat and ordered and they obvs didn’t have my posture etc when physically handwriting something. like I’d try to have my side neat & ordered like everyone else, but it always ended up in a state of disarray somehow. like HOO BOY IT’S ALL ADDING UP.

but also yeah. I’m not self-diagnosing bc that’s such common thing on this site. but. like. yeah I need to get to a psychologist or a psychiatrist and see. because so many things are adding up and maybe I do have some overlapping traits from adhd???? bc as ive said before, my condition hypotonia/developmental coordination disorder, has some links with adhd apparently, from what I’ve read recently on it. and it’s really starting to interfere with my life bc I can’t use a diary properly etc and don’t know how to hold myself accountable with deadlines other than doing everything to the last minute until I burn out, monumentally.

anyway.

don’t reblog this please. lmao. it’s just a musing.

[ittakesrain]

I’m hesitant to say this round is over. I won’t say that just yet. The remnants of unbearable fear are still with me, the trauma is still too recent.

Like, fuck. It was (I’ll use the past tense there) like 15 or so days of just. Well, if you’ve read my shit before you know what it was like. Or if you’re unlucky enough to suffer this sinister fucking disorder, you know. You don’t need me reminding you.

It always starts with the violent, aggressive, uncontrollable irritability. It has no actual cause and therefore no clear way to be diffused. It’s terrifying. I notice it in the car the most, driving. No matter who’s in front of me and no matter how they’re driving, I am angry. Intensely. White-hot rage is literally all I know or have ever known.

Then major depression. I noticed that when I was driving during that phase, I was angry as fuck still but literally to weary to respond with anger. It turned inward and tore me apart from the inside. It literally radiates off of me (like my anxiety does). My boyfriend always comments when he feels it radiating off of me.

Sidenote, I love that he senses/sees the changes that happen within me. They’re so sudden and for no reason, and they leave me feeling crazy (I already feel crazy like, generally, but I’m constantly questioning like “did that really just happen, did I really just sob hysterically for an hour?”).

After that (or along with it) comes anxiety. Fuck the fucking anxiety. Like, physical panic attack symptoms coupled with the racing thoughts, none of which I can fully latch onto, most of them scary, many of them about death. It’s just indescribable to not have a safe place in your brain. No amount of visualization or breathing can fix it. Not even having someone next to me speaking words of comfort. Not even a hug, and I love hugs.

I had family stuff all weekend, and my cousins were visiting from another state. And it was terrible because I spent one day holding back tears and hiding and then actually letting the tears just fuckin’ flow. I couldn’t even bring myself to make eye contact with anyone that day. Yesterday was a little better. I was mopey and uncomfortable and distracted and totally not myself.

Then, of course, I got home and was hysterical for a little over an hour. And not that I wanna put myself back in that terrible, terrible moment (or any of the MANY previous ones I’ve had), but I just remember so vividly wondering how I’d ever be able to function again. I couldn’t fathom how I’d ever been able to function before. There was no escape, nothing else but inward-pointing disgust and depression and fear. I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t stop dwelling on the fact that I’m only fucking 28 and that this thing is gonna live with me for the rest of  my ever, and it might get worse and there’s no cure and like. Yeah, the cure thing. I explained to a friend of mine that “cure” is not a thing. Meds are not a cure, therapy is not a cure, doing all the right things is not a cure. They help. They give me better tools to survive the next round. But that’s all it is, most times: survival.

Sounds like a totally negative way to view it. And I feel no guilt for feeling that way. This. Shit. Sucks. I deserve a pity party after every fucking episode. At least grant me that (not that I need or am asking for permission).

Also, could timing possibly have been any worse? Ugh. I missed them all and they were physically here. The guilt I felt made things worse. The longing didn’t help either.

And I’m pretty sure none of them have ever seen me quite that bad. I was afraid I scared or upset them. But honestly, they are all so understanding and helpful and supportive, and the tremendous amount of love I feel for them is mind-blowing. I am so lucky, and I’m at a loss for words. I doubt that in a lifetime of writing and collecting words, I’ll ever get enough to explain how lucky I am or how much all that means to me.

And I have to mention my sister. And brother in law. Not only their actually support, but they were sending pictures of my amazing perfect adorable pure nephew. Immediately puts a smile on my face. Lots of people reminded me that he’s a big WHY. I want to be the aunt he deserves. And I know I can be, although I dread having to explain to my little guy why Aunt Laura loses it every now and again (but there’s a Dr Seuss book about feelings which is actually totally about bipolar disorder that I’m gonna use when he’s old enough). It sometimes hurt that I had to feel so shitty and have that someone be connected to how he was making me feel better. There was some measure of guilt that I can’t explain. But my god is his little face and his little rolls worth it.

Right. So I’m feeling better but not ready to call it being out of the woods yet. If nothing else I think it’ll be less dramatic from here on out, and I think it’ll be less rapid cycling. I think I’ll be at least somewhat less reactive to tiny insignificant bullshit going “wrong.”

Mind you, this is all sheer optimism and positivity. And I do not for a single second take for granted the fact that I am, at this moment, capable of thinking that way. It’s fleeting. All of this is fleeting. I mean, life can be looked at that way by everyone, which might be a helpful push toward “living in the moment.” But bipolar fleeting. Moods are fleeting. Flux is constant and its effects are omnipresent.

I’m just trying to find the silver lining. Wrap this up in a bow, as I tend to do. Actually no, as I need to do. And like, don’t we all? Part of what made this episode suck so bad was that I couldn’t write (even though I had some deadlines) and I couldn’t describe this bullshit in a way that I haven’t already. Each bought of insanity brings with it new…shit. And it is infuriating to not be able to explain it again. Also, I couldn’t move let alone form words. Couldn’t make eye contact let alone summon the energy to talk with other human beings.

I dunno. I guess for now I’m gonna focus (something I’m able to do again!) on finding the beauty in the spaces in between the chaos. Find a way to drill it so deep in my brain that I’ll inherently remember it (or just fucking FEEL it) next depression (well actually this was a mixed episode but whatever).

Until I get around to doing that, peace out, internet.

[wonderingarmy]

Prince Kim Seokjin Part 5

Guys what did you think about the new album? I love it so much, I am crying. Anyways, I was able to finish Part 5 of Prince Kim Seokjin, while streaming Boy with Luv. Keep streaming!! To anyone that’s new to my series, Jin has more parts because he is the reason why I started writing imagines. But it looks like I write better stories to my six bias wreckers. Let me know what you think on this one. Hobi’s part 2 is coming soon!! Gomawoyo! 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

When Jin told you that he’ll try not to bother you through texts, you shouldn’t have believed him. Because now he sends you a message everyday, whether it be an emoji or just a simple hi. You try to ignore him for fear that Milo is going to find out, but there are days when you just can’t. He would always send you dad jokes, which you know are not funny, but it makes you smile anyway. It helps you get through a long day when he sends you one.

The weeks passed and you realized that you have been replying to his every message. Replying from his good morning messages to goodnight ones at 3am. You even call each other every night when you’re alone in your place and will talk for hours about things that you want to know about each other.

You adore Jin so much and you know you’re starting to fall in love with him. But what can you do? Milo has has locked you up in a relationship you so badly want to get out off, but can’t. Because he always threatens you and it scares you.

Before you agreed to be in a relationship with Milo, you thought he was a great guy, until after two months of dating when he started physically abusing you. He became so obsessive that he gets jealous to every guy you talk to. You tried to give him so many chances. He used to apologize to you, but he doesn’t do it now. You know you should have gotten out of that situation when you can, but it’s too late now.You’re scared that if you leave him, he’s going to do so much damage to not just you but with your family as well.

Milo told you one day that he is leaving for a week to have a photoshoot project in Japan. You didn’t say anything because you know this is a lie. You heard rumors that he’s into one of the models from Japan and that they’ve been hanging out a lot.

“Why can’t you just break up with me and be with her?” you yelled at him

“So you can be with your fake fiance Jin? And those are just rumors. I know your parents doesn’t like me, that’s why our relationship is still not out in the public. I am just making something up, so the media doesn’t focus on us. You know, saving you from your parents. If they find out that we’re dating, they’re going to be devastated and disappointed in you.”, he replied, his breath smelling like cigarettes and alcohol

“I don’t even wanna be with you anymore Mi----”

He grabbed your neck and started choking you.

“You are not leaving me Y/N. Because I will f*cking ruin you.” he said threatening you. “You better not be hanging out with that stupid Idol of yours, or I will find out”

He let go of your neck and you started rubbing it. You know you’re going to end up having a bruise again. Milo grabbed his jacket and left you crying on the floor. How you wish and pray that this would be over.

The next day, the first day Milo is out of the country, you aren’t planning on doing anything. You just stayed in your house and trying to see what kind of foundation you’ll use to cover the bruise on your neck.

“How’s my future wife doing?” it was a text from Jin

It was 9 am. You didn’t reply because you were thinking about the threats from Milo. After 30 minutes, he messaged you again with a sad emoji. Although you wanted so much to reply, you ended up choosing not to. The rest of the day went by and you never replied to any of his messages.

At 10pm, you accidentally answered a phone call from him.

“Hey!” he said as soon as you answered the phone

“Hey” you replied

Jin: Are you okay?

Y/N: Yes.

Jin: Ah… I am outside your house.

You were surprised when you heard this and went to look outside your window. Jin is standing outside his truck holding his phone. He noticed you and he waved and smiled.

“If you’re not busy, do you wanna go for a walk?” he asked when you didn’t say anything through the phone

“It’s 10pm.”

“Exactly, that means not much people.”

“Jin…”

“Hey, if you can’t, I’ll just leave. It’s okay, I understand.”

You thought for a moment and you realize how you want to be with him as well. “I’ll just grab my coat and I’ll be there.” you told him and hung up the phone.

When you were outside he asked if you’re about to sleep or if he disturbed you.

“No Jin. I was bored. Just trying to finish you guys’ photobook”

“How can you be so bored finishing BTS’ photobook? I mean, did you see those guys? Especially the worldwide handsome? You must be kidding me.” he said smiling

You smiled back at him and suddenly you forget all your problems.

“Thank you Y/N” he said

“For what?”

“For coming outside to go for a walk with me at 10pm.” he said and he held your hand

“Jin..” you said, surprised but what he just did

“I know Y/N. I am sorry.” he said and let go of your hands

You started walking, you both didn’t know where you’re going but you’re both glad you have each other. You walked without saying anything. Often times you would just look at each other and smile.

“Do you get bruised easily?” he asked all of a sudden. You realized you forgot to wear your scarf so it’s showing a part of your neck.

“Ah. yeah.” you replied rubbing your neck.

“Getting a bruise from your neck is kind of weird though. Unless somebody tried to choke you.”

“It’s a bleeding disorder” you replied without looking at him

He just nod his head and you both continued with your walk.

After awhile, he started telling you his dad jokes and your walk was more fun.

“That wasn’t even funny Jin”

“Y/N that was funny! What are you talking about?”

“It’s not funny. But you’re funny. I like the funny Jin”

“See? Can you imagine if we really got married? You’ll live a happy life hearing my jokes everyday”

“Oh my God. I would probably try to ignore you as much as I can”

You talk more about each other. It was only a 30 minute walk, but you both enjoyed each other's company. When you reach your home, you kinda want for the walk to not end.

“Y/N thank you for dealing with me tonight” he said as soon as you reached the door to your house. You just smiled at him and didn’t say anything.

“I had a talk with your dad today. He asked me to go to lunch with him” he said. Is this the reason why he texted that morning?

“I told him I can’t marry you if you don’t want to be married to me.”, he continued “And that he should choose your happiness before anything else because you are his daughter. His only child.”

“You told him that?” you asked

“Yes. I told him I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do. He told he understands and he’ll talk to my dad about it. But he said I am giving him a reason to make him want me more as a son-in-law.”

“You’re making that up right?”

“The son-in-law part? No. He really said that. So I told him like someone else anyway. And I told him that you don’t know how to cook, and I want a wife that can feed me and cook any kind of dish I want to eat”

“You like someone else?” you asked, ignoring the his last sentence

“Yes. But I don’t think she likes me too. So, I guess I am just going to marry myself. But yeah, don’t worry about marrying me anymore.”

“Jin…”

“I know. I’d wanna marry the worldwide handsome too.” he said smiling at you

You didn’t say anything. When he noticed this, he grabbed your hand again.

“I’ll still be your friend though. I’d like a beautiful friend. I am so tired of being the only beautiful person among my friends.”

Still you didn’t say anything. Heartbroken that the marriage is not going to happen anymore. Even if you know long before that it will never happen anyway even if he didn’t talk to your dad.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should be going. Again, thank you for keeping me company. Annyeong.” he said letting go of your hands. Just as he was about to walk out..

“Jin, I am not doing anything tomorrow night. If you want to go for a walk again or something else.” you said shyly

He smiled the most gorgeous smile and said, “I’d like that.”

You both smiled at each other then he continued to walk to his car. You wait outside your door until he’s gone. He opened his car window, gave you one last wave and drove away.

When you get inside your house, you can’t stop thinking about how the marriage is not going to happen anymore. How you are really starting to fall in love with Jin but you can’t do anything about it. Especially now that he confessed that he like someone else. And that he doesn’t want to marry you because you don’t know how to cook.

You thought about this more while you got ready for bed. Just then, Jin sent you a message.

“Looking forward to tomorrow night :)”

The one night of hanging out with Jin turned in to two and then three nights and for the whole week. You hung out at night, after his rehearsals and recordings. After you’re done with work. You didn’t realize you’ve been waiting for him to text you that he is on his way to your house. You both didn’t care what time it is, whether it be 12 midnight or 2 am. You just want to see him and spend time with Jin. That’s when you know you are really in love with him.

You kept asking him about the girl that he likes but he just says that she’s beautiful. That she’s one of a kind, amazing, and everything that he wants in life.

It’s when you realize you really need to do something to let Jin know about your feelings for him. To break up with Milo. To stop him from abusing you. To finally be happy with your life. It doesn’t matter if Jin likes someone else or wants somebody else for a wife. You just need to let him know that you love him.

One night when he was dropping you off to your house, he told you that he won’t be seeing you for awhile as they’re going to get ready for their Hongkong tour. But he promised to text you new dad jokes when he can.

You had a feeling that you need to tell him about your feelings that night or it will be too late the next time. But you’re scared of the outcome and you’re not ready for it.

Jin gave you a quick hug and you both stared at each other after. For a moment, you wanted to f*ck everything and kiss him, but of course, you chickened out.

“‘I’ll see you when I get back? It will probably be hard for us to see each other because your boyfriend should be coming back soon right?” he asked

You just nod your head.

“I am going to miss you a lot then.”

Again, you just nod your head.

“You take care of yourself okay? Until the next time I see you? Try not to get any bruise. Ah, I am going to miss you fake laughing at all my jokes.”

“I’ll miss your jokes too, Jin”

He shook his head laughing and said, “My jokes are lucky, they’ll be missed by you.”

He hugged you one last time and you both said your goodbye. When he drove off, you went inside your house, regretting that you didn’t tell him your feelings. You wish that’s not the last time you’ll see him.

You were trying to hang your coat on the coat rack when you heard a knock on your door.

“Ah, what did he forget this time?” you told yourself

Your heart started beating so fast and you told yourself that this is it. You have to tell Jin your feelings or you won’t have any chance at all. As soon as you opened the door, you felt a heavy hand slapped your face.

Milo

Your eyes started to get blurry and you felt dizzy from the pain. Milo is yelling but you can’t seem to hear what he is saying. He grabbed your left hand and started choking you.

You tried to say something, but you can’t. His hands are getting tighter and tighter around your neck. After a few seconds, your face started to turn white, and then he let go.

“Is that what you’ve been doing while I was gone?” he yelled. “F*cking an Idol? You’re mine Y/N. Nobody is going to have you except me. Do you understand?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore Milo” you tried to say clearly while still choking. You still feel his heavy hands around your neck.

“You know what’s going to happen to you right? If you leave me? I will kill myself and blame you for it. I will leak that video we have and see if they’ll still respect you after that! You are not getting away from me Y/N” he yelled in front of your face

“I don’t care Milo. Do what you need to do. Ruin me as much as you want. I don’t care anymore.” you replied, trying to stand up. You reached for your phone in your pocket. “Get the f*ck out of my house Milo or I am calling the police”

“We are not done yet Y/N. I am coming b----”

“Get the f*ck out of here Milo!” you screamed so hard despite your voice shaking and tears running down your cheeks.

He gave you one last look and left, slamming the door behind him.

You are left laying on the floor, crying. You wanted to call Jin but you don’t want him to worry about you. You called you mom and she answered. When she got to your house, you explained her everything.

“Y/N…” she hugged you tighter and started crying as well. She didn’t ask anything. You kept telling her how sorry you are for lying. She just told you not to worry about it and they’re going to do everything to protect you.

[herstarburststories]

You've lost your pain, congrats! ✘ Savitar/Evil!Barry Imagine ✘

✘ A/N: I REALLY took my time while I was writing this one, I’m sorry! Well, I gotta say it is kind of a little more special, I ended up getting friends with the one who requested it! Hope you like it, dear.

Beta: @lyss-91

✘ @enafaolan​ requested: Hello ! I've just found your tumblr yesterday but since you ask, can I request an imagine where the reader is part of team flash and secretly takes pity on Savitar when she learns the truth about him. So when Barry "accidentally" loses his memories (episode 21), she decides to go check on Savitar and finds him lost but as carefree as Barry. She stays with him while the others are trying to figure out a way to restore Barry's memories (because honestly, Savitar amnesic and alone why didn't we get to see that ?) She still there when he get his speed back. And when he finally recover his memories, he doesn't let her know at once because he enjoyed her company. x) I don't know if this is good and clear enough (english isn't my first language) but you'd be amazing if you could do this !

Our memories are stored in our brains, such as feelings, thoughts, other actions and emotions. That's the simplest way of saying that the brain keeps everything in order. Some even come to believe there is inside this little gray box where our soul is.

On the other hand, some people believe that our souls keeps our feelings, like a mother receiving a gift on Mother's day; she never lets go, no matter how ugly or bad it is. Our brain only gets the sporadic, exact, chemical, technical part. This part can easily be deleted in unexpected situations. Like a trauma.

This was the case of Barry Allen and his time remnant, Savitar. No surname, like God or Beyonce.

While The Flash, her friend and ex boyfriend, was being welcomed by everyone in that room, she couldn't help her mind to stay sane, letting herself get lost in an insanity lapse and finding her thoughts leading her to wonder if Savitar was alright.

Because Killer Frost surely wasn't the warmest company around, and if Barry was so confused and scared, even when he was surronded by people who cared about him, how would Savitar be?

Sighing, her (Y/E/C) eyes followed her teams steps out of the place. She listened carefully while their boss, Iris, ordened softly, but seriously: the plan was taking Barry to CCPD with Joe while Julian, Cisco and you tried to find way to fix what they had broken.

The girl with (Y/H/C) hair did not risk it asking the boss if they thought that Savitar was good, it'd be just a waste of time, and honestly, Julian probably would try to intern her fom such a stupid question.

(Y/N) herself was doubting her sanity.

You tried really hard to pay attention to whatever Julian and Cisco were arguing about, or even give them any creative idea that could help. Holy crap, even search on Google for idea on how to get a memory back. But it was as impossible as a man who runs as fast as the light's speed. Rolling her eyes at her own silly inside joke, she snorted in pure frustation. The reason why she couldn't focus her mind was pretty clear and was deeply annoying her, why the fuck was she caring so much about a killer?

Okay, time for a break. She was not being of any help here, not with that mentality.

''Guys, I'll buy some coffee.'' She announced casually, getting some murmurs and a happy shout from HR in response.

(Y/N) almost felt bad for not sharing her mind with the boys. Almost. Her heart was kind of too busy by feeling sad for Savitar. Anyway, she grabbed her faux fur coat and left.

But for being a Team Flash member, of course something bad had to happen before she was even able to put her foot outside the building.

''Hello, (Y/N).'' Killer Frost smiled malicioiusly, and the remember of a friend made you smile sadly instead of running away. She has had a lot of chances to kill you and haven't done it, Caitlin would never make you use her new name, or so you hoped.

She wasn’t like Savitar.

''What do you want, Caitlin?'' Your voice was low, tired. The sadistic games which your mind was preaching on you were enough for today, she didn't need Caitlin's personality disorder playing around.

''That's not my name.'' The white-haired girl growled, taking a step foward. Subtly, the weather around you both got considerably colder. You swallowed for the abrupt change of behavior, not for fear.

''Why are you here?'' (Y/N) asked directly, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

''Savitar.'' Frost explained with some unnecessarily mean remarks, about the situation of which the self-tiltled god of speed was found. ''But I'd suppose that you know it already.''

''Take me to him.'' Before she could deny you, you kept going. ''You know you need to help Cisco to find a way to reverse it, he can't do it by himself. And both Savitar and Barry are guys that are extremely powerful and defenseless right now. Barry has his fianceé, yet Savitar is alone in some dark place. If anything, I will be the one taking the risk once he is awake, so what's the matter for you?''

The next thing you knew was darkness.

Xxx

So here you were: waking up on a watery floor. Not cool, Frost.

Savitar was also here, wearing his suit in a catatonic state. Only hanging on there, apparently staring at you.

''Savitar.''

''Who are you?'' The monstrous voice from Iris West and Barry Allen's lastest nightmares asked in a not friendly tone. Slowly getting you, you decided to try Iris' trick.

''I'm (Y/N). You know me.'' You said cautiously, taking out your phone that was resting in your pocket.

''I don-''

''I know you don't remember. But it's true. I-'' Quickly, still without using any inhuman velocity, Savitar grabbed your shoulders and threw you against a wall. Your heart raced in terror, but you weren't going to give up now; It was just you and him.

''How do I know you are not lying?'' His voice almost robotic sounded again when your trembling hand finally reached your phone.

''I-I've got pictures.'' You unlocked your cellphone as fast as you could with a swip up, showing him some old pictures in the gallery from when you and Barry used to date. No kissing photos or anything that could bring questions, though. ''See? I won't hurt you, I promise.''

The tight grip of him softened, and you could let your breath which you haven't even noticed that you were holding; your back leaving the wall as Savitar recoiled.

''Get out of your armor, please.''

And he did.

He finally did.

As Savitar get ride of the horrid methal, (Y/N) wondered if his first instinct was violence when Barry's one was confusion. Perhaps it's justification was the same of the reason which Barry asked about Iris' ring and trusted her so easily. His subconscious knew it.

''I don't remember anything.'' For the first time since Savitar showed up, his voice seemed as fragile as his body outside the armor. ''Not even my own name.''

''I know. You are experiencing a temporary memory loss.'' You were as as succinct as possible, and he seemed to be trying to get his mind around what seemed to be an explanation of Albert Einstein's advanced theoretical physics to a layman.

''Who am I?''

''You’re Savitar.'' You walked in his direction calmly, not knowing what reaction to expect.

Fortunately, he did not try to pull away when you got beside him.

''It doesn't seem like  my name...'' Savitar rummaged his pockets, probably looking for his wallet - just as Barry did. ''Hmm. Weird.''

God, he looked so fragile, so pure. You felt sick thinking that it had been taken away from him;

''Are you hungry? We can go out, eat something.'' He finally looked around, frowning in confusion at the sight of the place. But he still shook his head in denial. ''Or we can just stay here. It works for me.''

A few seconds of silence passed, Savitar seemed to be carefully analyzing all the details of everything around him, the place, the visible part of his body to his eyes, you.

Sighing, (Y/N) decided to try her luck, hesitantly touching his hand. He, of course, tried to retreat scared, and his armor raised its guard, but you held your hand steady, taking his.

''I'm here.'' Savitar looked into her eyes. ''I am here.''

And that seemed enough.

''I'm scared.'' He admitted, making her heart tear up little bit.

''You don't need to be scared.'' You smiled gently. ''I'm here.'' The pain was gone, you knew that. But Savitar's scars remained there.

Nodding, he stroked your hand, unconsciously sending a timely thought.

Xxx

''Big Belly Burguer.'' Savitar read the establishment's sign in that afternoon, a carefree smile playing on his lips. ''I like it here?''

''You absolutely love this place,'' You giggled, slipping into the place and sitting down at the usual table. '' Mostly the fries. There was a time when you'd woke up at three in the morning just because you dreamed of fries and we would ended up here!''

They laughed and their conversation continued in that casual rhythm, anyone looking outside would bet a penny that the couple would eventually marry. Around you, it was a completely harmonious and comfortable mood, and that moment was so magnetic for both of them that they forgot to order the food - which is something big, especially considering the body of a speedster as fast as the god of speed .

The hours passed by like seconds when night fell in all its glory, as Iris declared her love for Barry through a childlike memory, the memories of the villain and the hero merged into a single yin-yang .

Savitar closed his eyes, attacked without any warning by the weight of his sins while who was taking care of him all along made her request to the waiter was kind heavy.

His mind was more fucked up than usual and he had the luxury of stopping time for a few moments, (Y/N), the only girl his nemesis and himself had loved besides Iris West, had stayed by his side. Despite all the threats, fear, mistakes. Which he committed to his team, to her.

He couldn't lie to himself, (Y/NN) was always one in a million, the Cleopatra to his Julius Cesar in a future where he was without Iris West. But wherever he came to, she had not existed as a romantic interest to Barry Allen - ironically, the girl was married to Eddie Thawne in many earths.

Savitar had enjoyed her company more than that. For the first time in millennia as a god, he had finally felt in the presence of a goddess after his own left him for a heroic copy.

''And five big fries, thank you.'' (Y/N) finalized their request as Savitar let time go by as it was supposed to.

'' Do not forget the mayonnaise.'' Savitar warned the waiter, not actually aware to the meaning of those words. His ex lover raised her eyebrows at his elbow when the teenager who was attending them left.

''Did you remember anything?''

''Hm.'' Savitar quickly composed himself. The remnant of time had enjoyed being with someone like that. No violence, just... Being. Well, not with someone really, he wouldn't like to be like this with anyone else but her. '' Mayonnaise just seems... Good. Like you here.''

This had been the cutest thing in the world, the cliché that Barry Allen would be ready to say at any moment, not really a Savitar thing.

But her smile made left him feeling like an idiot for saying something like that was worth it.

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

I am not my insecurities reflection- a truthful based oneshot

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE PLEASE READ

Ok, this will be a long author’s note but please bare with me as this is very important for you to understand this oneshot. For some context here because I havent posted alot about her yet, this is a oneshot about my Dc oc Gracie Lucio, set kinda in the same universe(i guess) of the teen titans judas contract movie( with Damian as robin) and its a oneshot written partly out of a vent of my own body image issues and partly out of an expression of how I’ve learned to look past said issues slowly.

But this gets very angsty until the end

Now to give a bit more context for the piece itself. The oc herself, Gracie Lucio( because I havent posted any art of her yet) for the reader’s understanding, she is not human, she is a werewolf(it feeds into her story so dont get me started on it alot of research went into this aspect of her character and it plays into her body issues)and body wise looks similar to Dick in the first season of Young Justice. Shes a naturally thin figured , broader shouldered girl who could( if she really wanted to) pass as a feminine boy with short jaw/ barely chin length hair( think of a thick messy longish pixie cut of dark hair). So shes naturally lean and lanky and a little underdeveloped for a 13 year old girl and as a heroine she has toned muscles from years of hero work. Most wouldnt see her having too many insecurities about her body image and appearance, but in truth shes riddled with them. She ages a bit differently than humans, it takes her body longer to develop and even then in some areas it develops differently all together. She struggles to gain any extra weight or build up natural feminine curves, something she wants. She WANTS to look like other girls her age, with more developed and heavier bodies, with curves and more weight and an actual figure. But with a supernaturally high metabolism added on top of a already genetic based thin figure and a intense and sometimes rigorous training and workout routine plus her work as a heroine gives no leeway to gain really any extra weight, its always worked off one way or another. And this causes...comments to be made about why she looks that way by civilians. and though she never shows it publicly  she takes many of these, usually not flattering and sometimes cruel and rude, comments to heart(much like I used to unfortunately) and it worsens her negative feelings. This is a small story of her seeing those problems and issues and trying to face and overcome them. This is more centered around Gracie and Dick and Jason and their platonic and sibling like relationship as they help her through her darker times( again, this is partly me expressing my own personal struggles with body image (which arent the exact same as the character but the language and the comments are very similar)and partly how those two helped inspire me to have more confidence in my body no matter what I look like) and also a deeper peek into her complex relationship with Damian(but thats not the biggest focus) Sorry this was so long I mightve info-dumped a little but its important to understand the story. I hope you guys enjoy?

This is also told in Gracie’s point of view

This will cover some pretty deep kinda issues like body image problems and over eating and weight loss/gain and mentions of eating disorders without really discussing them and bullying so if that upsets you in any way now is the best time to scroll past for your own sake, I dont want you to upset yourself over my crappy emotional writing

I do not look that bad.

That’s what I have to force my mind to accept as I look into the mirror, meeting my own aqua green eyes hesitantly.

I always hated looking in the mirror lately, especially after training or after bathing, like now as I stood in the middle of my room in a slightly loose training type sports bra and spandex shorts. I don’t even want to glance down at my body, out of fear for seeing the same thing I always do.

‘She so skinny...is she eating right’

‘She needs to eat more and gain some weight’

‘what a twig for a superhero’

‘how have bad guys not snapped her in half? Jesus Christ I could probably break her with a sneeze!’

‘What a bad influence shes setting for young girls with such an thin figure!’

‘I think He needs to eat more Christ that poor boy must be starving! Why isn’t Nightwing feeding him more’

The flashes of comments flooded my mind the moment my eyes flickered down to the rest of me. To my thin, unfeminine figure. My underdeveloped and flat birdcage of a chest. To my lanky, toned, too flat stomach. The pinched waist figure. The flat empty expanse I called hips that blended too well into my too dainty looking bony legs. I looked too fucking skinny. And maybe they were right...as a hero I was a role model to those younger than me, and I promoted a Bad Body Image for girls to idolize with my lanky boy figure.

And it was a horrible body type I had no goddamn control over.

My species was not an easy one to live as, especially not intermingled with humans. The team knew, the team understood, but the rest of the world didn’t. As a lupinotuum pectinem, or lycanthrope which in easy translation is simply “Werewolf”, my whole body inner workings were different. Most of my kind were naturally lean and thin, like tall healthily thin model athlete body types and in general the females, even alpha females, were practically born twig like almost. And on top of that our bodies developed....differently. I was not raised by a pack or by my own kind after age 8, so even I didn’t know the full extent but females bodies took longer to grow and it made it very hard for them to gain weight because of the unnaturally high metabolism. Add being a superhero who once trained under a certain league member to the mix and you go from being the “healthy and admirable” type of skinny to the “unhealthy and concerning”type of skinny.

I hated it, and I hated my body. I hated pictures of me from the neck down, because they all looked the same no matter who they were with. And I saw the comments everyone made. Whether its a surprise photo Garfield took dragging me into the picture to commemorate something or another or me taking pictures around Gotham or Blüdhaven with Dick on the social media Gar helped me set up, or even the rare photos I’d get to take with Jason or Damian or Tim and get to post. Every time the flood of comments were the same. The same things I now repeated over and over as I looked over my body angrily.

OMG look at that poor girl is she ok??? She looks like she needs to be hospitalized!

Christ almighty BB isn’t it too early to be posing with skeletons?? LOL

Dude not funny that girl must be anorexic or something.

Such a cute sibling couple but sweetie you need a fast food break to add some fat to those bones!

Fuck kid go eat something instead of taking pictures

Awwww you two look real happy! I hope you’re on the way to lunch or something!

Holy shit your guy’s size difference is so vast its almost worrying

how are you even alive with that little weight

Go eat some junk food or something before you pass out

OMG look at her shes so small and stick like! Her clothes look like they’re hanging off a scarecrow!

That girl cannot be healthy tell me someone is making her eat more

Every time its always the same damn thing....

I couldn’t do it anymore. I turned away from the mirror nearly in disgust and went back to changing into more casual clothes, bitterly noting how my clothes did in fact seem to hang awkwardly on my body as if I was too thin for them to fit correctly. Like they always did lately.

Ew look at her she looks so gross all stick-like like that!

What a fucking twig of a girl! Are those her ribs poking through her shirt??

Bitch go eat a fucking hamburger you need some damn food in you.

God that weight cant be healthy you need a doctor!!

     “Kid? Yo kid you in there?” My head jerked up from the comments flooded screen of my phone to meet Jason’s eyes, catching the quirk of his eyebrow as he sat across the diner table from me. We were at a diner he favored whenever he came into town to visit, a little family owned treasure with delicious and greasy food and the sweetest staff on earth. We frequented the spot during his visits, our own personal little thing since we’d gotten closer. I plastered on a smile and ignored the slight narrow of those blue eyes, the small furrow of his brow got as I snapped off my phone and set it aside.

      “Sorry Jay, BB tagged me in something dorky and I got distracted. So what were you saying?”

He didn’t believe me, and I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t the most convincing at that moment but I kept that damn plastic smile on my face and snagged some of his curly fries right in his face, making him crack a smile and smack my hand away from his tray.

      “ Hands off my food, eat your own wolfie.” I rolled my eyes at the stupid nickname I’d been branded and let the plastic smile slowly be replaced by a more genuine one as we began chatting again, grabbing my over sized cheeseburger and finishing every last bite and moving onto the large fries and two milkshakes, hopelessly praying that maybe this time the calories would stick and trying to push away the comments to the back of my mind. I was with Jason and we were having a damn good time, and I wasn’t going to let those comments ruin his visit...not again.

You should be ashamed. All you’re doing is promoting bad eating habits looking like that.

You’re such a bad influence for young girls who idolize you with such a horribly unreachable appearance.

Shes too bony to ever be considered pretty

Does she have a eating disorder or something?

I stiffened instantly startled by a hand on my shoulder, turning off my phone  instinctively and making the endless comments disappear into darkness before whoever could see them over my shoulder. The hand was big, calloused, and gentle and I felt myself relax as I looked up behind me with a smile.

         “ Hey Dick, did you need something?” He smiled down at me with that big bright smile that made all the dark thoughts and feelings melt away and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, blue eyes meeting aqua green.

          “ Well I was wondering if you’re doin’ anything right now or if you’d want to go catch dinner with Kori, Dami, and I. I noticed that you’d skipped your usual early dinner....” I wasn’t surprised he noticed, he normally did...

Once again that smile plastered itself on my face as I told him I’d love to, and to just let me go get changed into something better. I saw his hesitation at the fake smile, practically smelled it on him and prayed he wouldn’t bring it up right now, god please don’t ask now or I might just break...

Maybe god is listening because he didn’t mention it and just told me to meet them by the front doors of the tower in ten.

How are you not dead yet?

Jesus Christ stop promoting your eating disorder like its a good thing!

She looks so sickly is she ok? :(

Yeah shes sick, sick in the damn head for posting such disgusting pro-Ana pictures

How can you post pictures with a clear conscience looking like that?

Some “superhero”

I was wrong, no god was listening to me.

Dinner was rough to get through, even if it didn’t start that way.

For once I didn’t have to worry or dread possibly checking my phone for anything, I turned it off by the time we got to the restaurant. I even got a small compliment from Damian on our way in, though it was more a snark at me not tripping up the stairs. But it was Damian so I snapped right back with a smile, knowing he didn’t really mean it. Sitting beside Dick and across from Damian, I nudged his foot with mine in a silent gesture to cheer up even a little. He huffed through his nose but I saw his body relax and it made me relax. Those moments before the food came, our chatter and soft laughter as we looked over the menu, and the soothing knowledge knowing that Dick pulled me and Damian along to this dinner so we would go out on a date ourselves, ever the best brother and wingman. The mood was light and pleasant and I could see even the ever sharp and moody Dami lighten up a little by the time we ordered. Maybe the mood shifted into something different as we waited for our food and I was sipping on my tall glass of iced cola, when Damian’s fingers casually brushed over the top of my unused hand that laid peacefully on the table. The gesture was subtle and light, quick enough to miss if your senses weren’t sharp. I didn’t acknowledge it and neither did he, a silent understanding that words would just ruin whatever this was. I accepted that happily, as he was much more engaged in the conversations and even smiling a little more during them as he debated with Kori on leading strategies. Things were pleasant, comforting at that table in those few seconds before the decline, Dick smiling and chuckling at his lover and little brother, Said lover and brother having a more upbeat discussion about different leadership styles and their effects, and lightly debating which work better for what. And Damian’s hand next to mine, ever so lightly brushing against it in his wordless way to say I was still there and at even the smallest twitch I’d have his attention again. Dick ruffled my hair and asked how my online courses were coming along, since I didn’t attend schools publicly and I was more than happy to babble about my classes, and my current work in them. It was nice and I was happy, all the horrible feelings from before draining away as I tuned everything else but these three out of my enhanced hearing. Why had I even felt so shitty when I had great people like them in my life?

Then I heard it as that damned supernatural hearing tuned back in to the rest of the world.

The words and whispers and mutters and the blatant gossip and bad mouthing.

“Look at that younger girl sitting at that table dear...shes so thin I think she should be in a hospital not a restaurant.”

“Ewww mom look that girl looks like a skeleton!”

“ Honey shush….”

“Is….is that girl ok?”

“Dude of course she isn’t just look at her shes unhealthy as fuck. Probably has some kind of eating disorder too or something.”

It all flooded over me and all of my happy mood washed away under the wave. I couldn’t tell if the others could hear them so I grit my teeth tried to tune it all back out, trying so hard to focus more on Kori’s explanation of her points. My hands began to curl up subconsciously, making Damian’s attention snap to me. Fuckin I….no, I cant tell him...I shouldn’t. I forced my hand to uncurl and that stupid smile sprawled across my lips as if someone had put tape over them. I saw his eyes narrow and near begged mentally for him to not say anything or for Dick to distract him...anything.

“Ahem….your meal.”

I have never more thankful to a waitress before in my life...until I saw the look she gave me as she placed my admittedly large order of food in front of me, something that was normally a platter for two people’s worth of beef and sides. I caught the judgmental and suspicious look she had glancing between me and my food and I felt shame burn all over, starting to hang my head to avoid that damn look.

“ If this is all our food then your job is done. Don’t you have OTHER tables to be serving?” Damian’s curt and sharp tone cut through the air and briefly through my shame. This waitress knew nothing about me and i certainly owned no one any explanations about my eating habits, so why was she hanging around giving me looks about my food…?

“ Damian don’t be so rude!” Dick cleared his throat and I felt his strong arm wrap protectively around my shoulder as he leaned close to the edge of the table while Kori’andr apologized for Damian’s attitude vaguely. But I could hear it, there wasn’t much life to her apology. It sounded like a politely required apology, almost...defensive?

“ I am so sorry about my little brother Miss. He’s also sorry. But do you need anything else since we seem to be all set here but you’re still hanging around when you must be very busy…?” Dick’s words were sweet and cheerful, but there was an edge to his tone that gave a clear warning. His arm around me tightened a little protectively as he gave one of his signature charming smiles that could light up half the damn city as he then inquired if there was some sort of problem. The waitress stammered that there wasn’t any problem and that it was fine and for us to enjoy our meal before scampering away to continue her work. I felt other patrons eyes most DEFINITELY on us now and I couldn’t help shrinking into the taller man’s side to hide.

“ I’m sorry this keeps happening…” I murmured to him as our respective dates started eating and slowly reviving their conversation, moving on to mission recounts and training while Damian shot a dark look at the other patrons that made them look away. Dick gave my shoulder a squeeze and i moved closer for that familiar warmth and comfort...my chest felt heavy and my appetite had died and I wanted to curl up in my room and die of the shame. But I couldn’t, he wouldn’t have let me. So instead I instinctively sought out the safety Dick’s presence brought me, like a protective older sibling whose arms I could be enveloped in and forget about the harsh world outside them.

He knew without words, catching my body language before anyone else at the table. He knew me best.

“ Do you want to leave? We can get to go boxes and enjoy this meal all the same back at the tower, or even mine and Kori’s apartment. Is that what you’d rather do?” It was tempting, oh god it was so tempting to just say yes and let him lead me away while I re-gathered myself, same way he did when we were both 13 and living under the same roof...before…

I shook my head and forced those thoughts to the very back of my mind. I was in a dark enough place of mind already without that.

“ N-no...you guys set this up...i...i don’t want one nosy waitress to ruin our whole meal. Lets just eat ok D?” He smiled at the nickname and ruffled my hair with a nod, both him and Kori making sure I knew if things got too uncomfortable we could leave and the heaviness eased a little at their consideration. I started picking at my food and slowly regaining my appetite, once again nudging Damian with my foot to start up conversations. I ignored the words for the majority of the dinner, we even began to enjoy ourselves again. The last straw was probably as we were paying and putting leftovers in to go bins. I was admittedly nibbling on food out of my bin, despite starting to feel full.

“ I swear you are a bottomless pit sometimes Gracia.” I rolled my eyes at Damian’s remark and gave him a small smirk as I licked my fingers clean.

“ This bottomless pit can still kick your ass in training wonder boy~” He grunted and I saw the challenge glow in his eyes as he smirked back, an excitement for tomorrow’s combat training flaring up between us.

“ You really shouldn’t mix up your delusional dreams with reality alpha PUP.” I said something snarky back and we began to bicker halfheartedly over who was winning. I finally snapped shut my leftover box and stood with Damian as we stared each other down confidently, Dick chuckling at our competitiveness.

“ Tomorrow morning’s combat training will certainly be interesting with these two all riled up already.” The words didn’t fully process as I cracked my knuckles and squared up to the admittedly….taller boy.

“ Last I checked Damian I was ahead 11-10. And tomorrow, I just cant wait to make it 12.” He gave a hard laugh to my face and faced up to me with a smirk as our other two companions stood and shooed us more in front of the table so they could leave their seats. He opened his mouth to say something likely scalding and snarky back at me when the worst comment pierced between us both like a goddamn bullet.

“ Damn, I never knew such a sickly, too skinny bitch like her could eat like such a fat fucking pig.”

I think I stopped breathing as my body flinched at the following laughter. The man was clearly on the tipsy side and sitting at a larger table with a group of laughing friends, though the one who said it was standing next to the table with a drink that reeked of the cheapest alcohol this restaurant probably sold, and he didn’t stop there. Oh god of course he didn’t stop there. He kept laughing and loudly making obvious comments at me and openly mocking me and how much I ate to his table, either fully aware of what he was doing and that we could clearly see and hear him or too drunk to really care as more insults and name calling that I had heard and seen and read plenty of times before fell from his mouth. My heart was pounding in my ears as the next few moments happened slowly.

I thought I had seen anger plenty of times before, the worse being the one and only time someone made a malicious joke about my appearance to my face when I was walking beside Jason and it took all my supernatural strength to drag him off and away the guy before he murdered him in broad daylight and to keep him walking to wherever we had been heading.

I had seen pissed, but I had never seen downright hellish fury until that moment when I looked at Damian and Dick.

I had seen Damian mad, and angry, and pissed, a few times in our first meetings at me personally. I had seen Dick mad, angry, and pissed off a a fair chunk of times, even if they had never been directly at me. I had never seen this expression on either of them in those times. And in those few moments that passed almost in slow motion and Damian began to lurch forward with murderous intent the thought finally hit me. ‘ Was this...the first time these two had really heard the comments about me? Oh god…’ I felt like I was moving in honey as Damian stalked past me and I tried to reach out to him slowly, a gleam to his eyes that made my blood go cold.

If someone was to ask me in the future what I believed Death looked like, I would say with completely conviction that death would have the exact eyes Damian had in that moment: lethal, merciless, and furious. And he would have Dick’s cold expression, a look I never wanted to see on the normal cheerful man’s face ever again.

Time snapped back to a normal speed like a whip and my hand grasped nothing but air as Damian stormed over to the man.

“D...da--”

“What did you just say you disgusting drunk.” I might’ve shivered at his tone and I felt Kori’s hands on my shoulders tugging me back protectively as she looked down at me worried.

“ Gracie...don’t listen to him, there’s no reason to cry.” Cry? What was she talking ab--

That’s when I felt it, something warm and wet sliding down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. I...I was crying. My walls and my limit of bottling things in for one day was crumbling away as I watched Damian go to confront the man, my voice disappearing under the surge of hurt and anxiety. I couldn’t even say his damn name. I felt frozen and helpless as Dick stalked after Damian, fists clenched.

I had to do something say something anything to stop them before things went badly I had to I had--

“Eh?What the fuck did you say to me brat?”

“ You heard me you worthless piece of filth. Apologize to her, now.”

I needed to do something anything as I felt myself crumbling. Why wasn’t Dick stopping him why

“ And what if I don’t pipsqueak? You gonna hit me? Now scram. Maybe take your little bitch to a hospital for treatment instead of parading her around a restaurant with normal people!”

“ He might not do anything, But I will. Now take it back before things get messy.”I think my body began trembling as I watched panic swelling. I just wanted to leave and go home. I didn’t want to see this unfold, I just wanted to be home at the tower curled under my covers to simulate the warmth of another person holding me. I wanted to be anywhere, anywhere else then stuck in this nightmare.

So I moved without thinking and lunged, aiming for the back of Dick’s jacket to grab and ready to swallow any shards of pride and beg to leave. Instead I collided with Damian’s back and rolled with it, hugging him tightly from behind and tugging back with a whimper.

“ P-please you two...l...lets just leave...please lets just go home please…” Kori grabbed Dick’s arm firmly and tugged him back.

“ Dick...shes in the midst of an anxiety attack, let it go and lets leave. We need to get her out of here.” He took a difficult deep breath but nodded glaring down the man harshly enough that he flinched and scurried to the bar with his tail between his legs mumbling insults. One of his friends started to stand and began nervously apologizing, though one vicious look from the boy I was holding shut him up fast. It took me and Kori working together to drag the two out of the restaurant and the ride home was tense and silent. I couldn’t look at any of them, instead opting to stare at my feet wiping my eyes.

“ Does that happen often. People talking about you like that.” His cold tone made me flinch a little. At this point I was so upset and anxious and emotionally drained on the inside that I thought Damian was mad at me of all people for what happened. Those dark thoughts began to slowly bubble up to the surface and my insecurities screamed that he blamed me for what happened in the restaurant. I remained silent, too upset to answer. I heard his growl of annoyance and I began to hunch up, ready for a verbal fight.

“ Damian drop it for now. Shes in no right place of mind to talk about it.” Dick warned from the driver seat with a low voice that reminded me he was also upset and angry. When we got back   to the tower I didn’t wait for anyone to say anything, I just bolted for my room as fast as I could, at a inhuman, unnatural speed that they couldn’t keep pace with.

I stayed locked in my room for three days, not willing to face any of them the next morning during training. Everything was heavy and hurt and it was hard trying to rebuild those shattered walls of protection, that image of unbothered confidence. I stayed in bed locked away from the world and curled up under the weak protection of my sheets mostly unresponsive to those outside it.

The first to come knocking and checking on me was Kori, asking if I was ok and if I needed to talk. She left after a little while of trying for a response unsuccessfully though, saying she’d come back to check on me later. It was maybe an hour later that Garfield came knocking, asking why I’d missed breakfast AND training. His voice was concerned as he asked if everything was ok and if I was even in there. The concern poked painfully into my silence, tempting me to speak and make myself vulnerable.

Vulnerability killed. I knew that first hand. So I forced myself to stay quiet until his knocks and footsteps faded away.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a self deprecating blur, only marked by Kori’s two other attempts at my door. The last one I barely noticed as exhaustion kicked back in and I drifted off into an unsteady sleep

The next day after I woke up things still went by in a near timeless blur. I could hear my phone buzzing and vibrating and rattling for my attention but I left it there on the nightstand unnoticed and curled further under the sheets, lost in a slate tinted world of dark thoughts and darker temptations. But that day was harder to drift away through.

The first to stop by was Jamie, knocking a few times and calling out to me with concern and worry clear in his voice as he asked if I was ok. He asked if I’d eaten at all since yesterday, since he hadn’t seen me leave my room. The thought of eating made my stomach stir and my body curl around it ashamed. He knocked a few more times after that, his voice growing a bit more worried at the lack of answer. After awhile I heard him walk away and I barely lifted my head as I hugged my too skinny too unhealthy body close, feeling those blaring imperfections and flinching at myself.

It was no wonder everyone said those things...if so many people said them so often then they must be true.

The next to come by was Raven. She only knocked twice and gave a small sigh.

“ Gracie...I know you’re in there. If you need someone to talk to...my room is in the next hall over, and I will be here to listen. I wont force you to come out...just please remember you aren’t alone here. You have the team behind you.” I bit my lip hard enough to make it bleed to keep my ensuing whimper silent. The words, soothing and reassuring in context, stabbed into my heart and my resolve. I WANTED to depend on them, to throw open the door and break down under the assurance I could and would not be treated differently after, and be assured and comforted and remind of the positives. I wanted it so badly I was scared of it. Or maybe...I was scared of it NOT happening as those damn fears and insecurities and dark thoughts sowed heavy doubt through me. She lingered a little longer than Jaime, eventually her footsteps disappearing. I remember meekly poking my head from the sheets to stare absently out the half covered windows lost in thought, time slipping by me once more to the point I almost didn’t register Garfield and Kori both stopping by my door again at least twice more worried.

When Dick stopped by as the sun was setting was when the harder pain set in.

I heard the knocks and ignored it in favor of the changing color sky the sunset offered, my room washed in a dim orange and amber gleam. Then I heard his voice, soft and sick with worry from the outside and my heart thudded so hard it hurt. Hard.

“ Gracie...C’mon Gracie-girl please open the door. We’re all worried about you...I’m really worried about you. You haven’t eaten for a day and a half...Please let me in...” I almost broke completely at the pain in that familiar voice, the voice I never wanted to be the cause of being in pain or anguish again.

Well looks like I did a GREAT job of preventing that didn’t I?

He knocked again, asking and pleading and trying to reason, anything to get that door to open. My eyes burned with hot fresh tears and I curled up into a tight ball whimpering softly and breaking my vow of silence.

“....D-dick...p-please...j-just leave me a-alone…I-i just need some t-time alone…”

My voice came out pathetically weak and shaking with tears, which I know he heard. There was a silence for a few moments, perhaps shock that I actually answered this time. I felt warmth sliding down my cheeks as he sighed and reluctantly muttered that he’d come check back on me tomorrow and that there was leftover dinner ready for me to heat up on the kitchen counter before he slowly walked away. His fading footsteps echoing in my ears. Was my heart breaking on every step away? I couldn’t tell. That feeling slipped into the dark thoughts that followed the setting sun. Dark thoughts that also reminded me of the one person who HADN’T come to check on me, and the resulting pain of his absence.

The third day had been mostly quiet. It was almost a painful relief, quiet meant no additional pain of--

“ Gracia.”

That one word coming from Damian’s mouth sent so many things through me and sent any resolve I had spiraling away. His tone was a forced kind of neutral, he sounded as if he was trying to stay calm but it wasn’t exactly working. There was something to his voice I had no energy to figure out. He didn’t knock and there was silence for a few moments but I felt his presence remain.

“ You haven’t eaten since the restaurant.” No questions with him, he didn’t need to ask, always calm and analyzing.

“ ...You cant just stay in there forever Gracia.” A stern lilt to his voice, weakly enforced by the faint sound of his hand on the door. I could only whimper and curl up more. There was another stretch of silence before he sighed and his footsteps continued down the hall.

He was the only one to come check on me, a blessing and a damnation.

The day and night went by so listlessly I didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up to banging knocks on my door. The volume grated on my sensitive hearing and made me flinch. Who would even be knocking like that…?

“ Oi. Kid. I know you’re still in there. Open the door.” Jason’s hard and no shit taking voice shot through me. Why...Why was Jason in the tower? Why was he in the city?

The knocking continued relentlessly, unlike the others. It even got louder and angrier.

“ Kid I said open this goddamn door.” There was no request or plea in his voice. It was a command, a harsh, cold command. I tried covering my ears with my hands and curling into a tight ball as the knocking continued. He wasn’t about to give up to a little girl.

I knew this too well.

“ Graciea Rosica Lucio I swear to god if you don’t open this goddamn door in the next couple second I will break it down. Now get off your fucking ass and answer me.” I don’t know what it was, but hearing his threat sent my body into mechanical motion, trudging over to the door and reluctantly unlocking it and letting it slide open with a low hiss, the banging finally ceasing. I couldn’t look him in the face, empty and ashamed it took threats to get me to open the door. So I stared dully at his boots and took in his scent as he grabbed the front of my shirt and dragged me back inside. I stumbled clumsily along with as he sat me on my bed and stood in front of me. I kept my gaze down towards his knees, the smell of nicotine wisping off his body in a way that told me he very recently had been smoking, no less than an hour ago most likely. Smoke and city is what filled my room. There was only a beat of silence before he spoke.

“ Look at me.” I lifted my head and stared at his chest and his crossed arms, unwilling to look him in the eyes. I couldn’t bare to see what kind of disappointed look he likely had on his face. Perhaps I didn’t want to see my reflection in his eyes, see the sickly, disgusting and bony figured girl with greasy hair and dark circles under dulled eyes and sallow cheeks. I heard the slight growl that rumbled from the back of his throat in warning and I briefly wondered if I would be forced to look him in the eyes. His arms uncrossed and I prepared myself for anything.

Anything except for two big plastic grocery bags filled with fast food bags and orders was dropped onto my lap, the contents still hot. I blinked slowly once, twice, and finally got enough courage in my confusion to look up at his face. When I did I was a little startled.

“ Eat. And you aren’t moving until those bags are polished off understand me?”

He looked visibly angry, eyes narrowed and mouth locked in a fearsome scowl with eyebrows furrowed. But his eyes were soft and worried and it took me a minute to realize worry was what was making his scowl so harsh. He crossed his arms across that broad chest again and I realized he was in his work gear, all the way down to the guns strapped to his thighs. All he lacked at the moment was his helmet and domino mask, his dark hair messier than usual and the white streak falling between his eyes. We had a staring contest and in those pupils I saw myself, I saw the shell I had become and it made me sick, breaking me briefly from the depressive haze.

How the hell had I let myself fall this far, this deep?

We didn’t speak until he grunted, eyes narrowing more in a way even those concerned blues didn’t weaken the glare as he spoke gruffly.

“ You better start eating before I start just shoving it down your damn throat.” I knew he would too. He wasn’t fucking around, I didn’t doubt he’d follow through with any threats made. Slowly I looked down at the pile of food and reached for the first bag, pulling it open and blinking fast as fresh tears stung my eyes.

It was from our favorite diner, and it was my usuals two cheeseburgers and large lightly salted fries with a second order of fat steak fries and fried pork strips. He’d even gotten all the little sides I enjoyed with it and I looked back up at him with a pained look. Maybe that look made him relax because his expression softened slightly, his voice quieting to something gentler.

“ C’mon now...I brought you all your favorites, now start eating...it’s been three days and your body cant handle that. We can talk after.” My shoulders slumped as all the tension stored in my body dissipated a little as he continued to speak, like a tightly pulled strong finally cut loose.

“ Kid I’m not mad at you. No one is. So just eat the food and then we’ll figure shit out, just like we do on any other visit.” I think the tears started falling because his face got blurry and there was warmth in my face. If I did start crying he didn’t say anything, just nodded at the bag. I gulped and slowly but surely pulled out one of the burgers and slowly took a bite, struggling a little to swallow it with a throat that was closing up from emotions. Once I did though my hunger kicked me hard and I began devouring the food, one bag after another.

It took me about a half hour to finish both plastic bags but I did, followed by slamming through at least two water bottles and one thick milkshake that almost made a mess. Jason simply watched over me as I ate from his spot in front of me. The silence was almost soothing, not painful as it had been before. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as I looked back up at him and we made eye contact.

“ So are you going to tell me what happened? Really happened?” I broke his gaze to stare towards the floor as the acidic shame began to creep back over me. He sighed.

“ C’mon kid just let it out already. Who am I to judge? So why don’t you trust me like you USED to and tell me?” Those words shot through my heart and head.

I...I wasn’t trusting him...trusting anyone...I…i...

It was like Jason opened a flood gate.

It all came spilling out with a new surge of tears and mid sentence cracking sobs, my body physically heaving from the intensity as it all came out. All the months of insecurities and pain and doubts and fears and comments and negativity and hate and bullying came rushing out like a tidal wave and Jason took to all, listening to everything without a single word as I let everything out and let myself break down completely, wails and sobs replacing words eventually. I felt him shift and kneel in front of me, felt big strong sturdy hands grip my shoulders to steady me and keep me anchored as I buried my face into my hands and gasped out cries and pained wailing yowls that filled the room and spilled out of it. I vaguely remember the sounds of multiple hurried footsteps coming towards the door but I didn’t care. All I felt was Jason’s hands on my shoulders and his steady, continuous heartbeat in my ears as well as he strong breathing. One set of footsteps dared to enter the room and hurry over, only stopped by Jason’s calm voice.

“ Let her get it out, its the only thing that’ll help.” The footsteps stopped and eventually the wails faded into blubbering whimpers and whines and hiccups, constantly sniffling. I lifted my head to look at him through blurred eyes and got one brief sight of Dick standing behind Jason that sent me into a whole new wave of sobs.

God I’ve been nothing but selfish and now I’d fucking hurt Dick again even when I swore I’d never do that again and i--

I let out a high pitched whine that turned into pathetic blubbered and wailed apologies. Over and over like a broken record I couldn’t stop apologizing to them for everything even parts that weren’t my fault  in any way I still apologized for it I just couldn’t stop. Jason’s grip on me tightened only slightly before slipping away and for a single moment I was terrified I’d annoyed him with all the apologies and was about to add that to my list of them when two strong arms wrapped around me and and Dick’s scent surrounded me.

“ Shh shh shh shhh….shhh Gracie its ok now shh shh its ok I got you its not your fault…” I sniffled and wailed out more sobs and begs for forgiveness as I clung to him like he was a life preserver. And at that moment he was. He hugged me tighter and practically cradled me into his chest stroking my hair as he murmured reassurances, assuring me I was well forgiven and it wasn’t my fault. Everyone got insecurities especially when facing so much negativity. How I was so strong for fighting it for so long regardless. But it was ok to not always be strong and be able to handle it. That he was there and it was ok now. It took awhile but eventually all my noise quieted down to sniffles and hiccups and the occasional whimper as my trembling and heaving finally eased away into a limp tiredness. I felt exhausted but in a way different than the past couple days. I felt lighter and the more Dick spoke gently the lighter and more relaxed I felt,all the pain easing as he banished every dark thought one by one.

“ You ARE a hero Gracie.”

“ you aren’t a skeleton or a scarecrow or a twig.”

“ You are not too bony.”

“ You’re beautiful.”

“ You aren’t sick and you don’t need any doctors.”

“ You’re ok. The way your body works and retains weight naturally is not your fault.”

“ You’re only thirteen you’re still growing kiddo.”

“ I was scrawny and thin until I was at least sixteen Gracie its not that uncommon.”

“ You do NOT have to hold yourself to stupid human beauty standards.”

“ You’re beautiful to us, that’s all that matters.”

“ You’re ok, you have us.”

Each and every statement cleared my mind and I slumped against him with tears still falling down my cheeks. His hand carefully cupped the back of my neck in a soothing gesture to ease the wolf side of me, adding a very small amount of pressure to ensure the sense of security and safety the movement brought. I whispered out a hoarse thank you, my throat sore and raw but already beginning to heal. He smiled into my hair and I let my eyes slip shut in contentment. I felt...stabilized, as if the whole world had been constantly tilted dangerously under my feet for months and now it had finally been returned to normal, balancing me once again.

I felt a second, no technically third, hand tangle itself into my thick and greasy hair and ruffle it affectionately, fingers tangling themselves in the dark chestnut locks.

“ We’re always here for you kid. Whether you like it or not. You can be honest and confide in your inner circle Gracie. We aren’t going to look at you any differently...so next time don’t keep your mouth shut.” My nerves settled and I leaned into his hand with a loud hiccup, making him snort. I looked up and saw both older men smiling down at me, both with their own kind of soft expressions. I rubbed my eyes and wiped my nose and smiled back shakily, feeling like everything was going to be ok for the first time in a long while.

I learned a few things a few hours later, after I’d fallen asleep in Dicks arms and woke up on the couch out in the Tower’s game room with Garfield and Jaime looking after me. My head was resting on Garfield’s leg and he had his elbow rested on my upper arm comfortably as he and Jaime played some kind of two player video game, keeping their voices lower than usual to be considerate of me sleeping. Opening my eyes was difficult as they felt dry and crusted and stung from crying so much. But my throat was no longer sore. When they saw I was awake they paused the game and and told me they were happy I was up, as I had been out cold for at least a solid couple hours. That was when I learned the first thing : Dick and Kori had informed the team of the incident at the restaurant after the first day I stayed locked up in my room, and Garfield had let it slip in his rage that he thought I had finally stopped getting those comments, and confessed that I’d been getting bullied and harassed about my appearance online for months. What I found out was all those months what I failed to notice was Garfield fighting back on my behalf every chance he got. He defended me, constantly called people out for harassment and even worked on getting some of the worst and most aggressive ones banned. For months he’d been do it as relentlessly as he could, filling his own social medias with both our pictures and his constant defense and positivity towards me to fight it back. It got lost in my own comment section so I stupidly didn’t realize. It warmed my heart knowing he’d kept my back even when I never noticed or mentioned it, though he waved it off and just gave me his big old smile telling me it wasn’t that big a deal,

“ After all, you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat!” And he wasn’t wrong. But I still hugged him tight in thanks anyway, an embrace he happily returned as he warned me next time I lied about being harassed there’d be hell to pay.

I assured him there wasn’t going to be a next time anymore and for the first time in months finally wholeheartedly meant it.

The second thing I learned was Jaime told me during those first two days I was locking myself away Damian had gone back to the restaurant and used Bruce’s name to hunt that guy that had been harassing me down and gotten a few hefty harassment charges and minor endangerment charges slapped onto the guy, throwing in a sob story of how I was now in emergency care in the hospital because of him. I knew he didn’t throw his last name around often, didn’t exactly like having to do so to be taken seriously. The fact he did for me…

I had a lot more feelings for Damian after that knowledge.

The third thing I learned was that the only reason Dick and Kori hadn’t come by to check on me yesterday was was because they spent the entire time hunting for Jason to get his help with getting me out, and when they DID find him he stormed for the tower and made it there before they did somehow, he was that angry.

As they were telling me this and retelling a very tense video call between Nightwing and Batman during the second day Damian came in in his full Robin attire, regarding us stoically. When I saw him I stood and the room quieted as I approached him, the both of us observing each other. When we stood a foot apart I stared into his masked eyes quietly and he looked into my tired eyes. I saw his mouth start to open to speak and my body lurched forward without me, hugging onto him tightly.

“Thank you...you didn’t have to do that for me thank you thank you thank you…” He was quiet and I was about to let go and move away when I felt his arm come around me and grip the back of my shirt, returning the embrace. Neither of us was at a point that we were really physically affectionate by any means but my heart swelled when he hugged me back, leaning his head against my own and allowing me to bask in the warmth of his arms and his scent. When I felt him roll his shoulders I took that as my cue and slowly pulled away, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek as I did before retreating back to give him his space.

I think I saw his cheek flare pink but I’ll never say for sure because that would mean admitting just how red my own cheeks were.

I’d love to say that after that everything ended happily and perfectly and things went great forever and ever. But I cant, life doesn’t work like that.

But things did get better.

I was under heavy supervision several weeks, with almost stricter watches on my food intake to make sure I didn’t try to over eat or try to force weight gain. Bruce had me stay with him and Damian for a few weeks as well to make sure I didn’t slip back into that dark place. It was a bit smothering at times...but in all honesty I welcomed the smothering because I knew it meant how much they all cared. And staying with Bruce again...it brought up my mood believe it or not. Being in the manor brought back happier memories of my childhood and seeing the man I considered a fatherly figure more often perked me up. Plus I got to see Tim a lot more than usual in those few weeks, a perk and joy all in itself as he kept me company when he wasn’t too busy with his work. Tim was also the one who disabled all comments on my social medias one calm rainy evening in the lounge. I was grateful and he patted my head after as he read his case files. I think I might’ve fallen asleep against him, I cant say I fully remember. With each passing week I felt better and better. It took a long time for my self esteem and confidence to rebuild itself, but it got some jump starts. Perhaps the best part was two months later after a sparring session with Kori. She was giving me tips on striking with a staff when Dick and the big bad bat Brucie himself walked in.

“ Batman? Has something happened?” He shook his head and put his hand on my shoulder.

“ I’m going to borrow Gracie for a few minutes.” Dick gently took her hand and smiled as he whispered something to her as he led me out of the training room and placed a long bottle of what looked like red chewy vitamins into my hand. When I looked up at him confused he gave me some of the best news of my life.

“ These are specially created vitamins designed to accommodate your body’s inhuman metabolism. Tim helped me create them. They're designed to help regulate fats and carb distribution in your body and allow your body to hold onto and gain more weight without immediately burning it off. Take one every week and in a few months you should be up at least one weight class if not more as long as you keep to your regular healthy eating habits, just like you wanted. By Tim’s calculations within the year you should gain enough weight to have a thicker figure, though you may always retain this thinner “ballet-ques” figure...you will more closely resemble the figure of girls your age.” I stared up at him then at the vitamins and sniffled, fighting off tears of joy. All those weeks with Tim and his seemingly just curious questions about my species and their anatomy...the “ case files”...I owed Tim a lot for this.

“ It was Dick’s idea, after all that happened two months ago.” The softer tone brought a smile to my face and I nodded, barely restraining the urge to hug Bruce while he was in the cowl.

“ T-thank you...thank you this means more to me than you know…” He nodded and turned to leave but I caught the ghost of a smile on his face as he walked away.

And once he had I ran back into the training room and tackled Dick to the ground with a ecstatic howl, shifting mid leap into wolf form and licking his face in gratitude, making him laugh as he lazily tried to push away my affection.

I started taking them that day, and it took a few months for a noticeable difference to take place, but it did. My clothes and uniform stopped hanging off me like a walking scarecrow and I started developing the beginning of a feminine figure. I stopped trying to stuff my face too much at every meal and with every week after my self esteem raised back up a little higher. Maybe people saw it in the big, wide crooked smiles in pictures of me now, no matter who they were with. Or maybe the team saw it in the fact I stopped trying to hide my body in layers of clothes, walking around in my favorite tank top after missions instead of over sized sweatshirts and shirts, or the fact I didn't mind sudden pictures taken of me. Regardless it showed and in time I was more than happy to show off that confidence. Throughout it all Jason made near constant visits between jobs to make sure I didn’t have too major of setbacks and Dick stayed by my side as often as he could, supporting me and being a physical reminder almost that I was never alone.

And I didn't feel alone.

And one day as I was getting ready for an outing I paused in front of the mirror and looked at myself, looked at my slightly more filled out tank top and the small curve of slightly more defined hips and an actually fairly filled out stomach, a fuller figure to match my broader than normal shoulders. I slowly looked into my own eyes and after a moment I began to smile.

Somehow….I didn't hate looking into the mirror as much as I used to.

“ I do not look that bad. I look fine.”

“ Gracie c’mon you coming? C’mon the others are gonna leave without us!”

I smiled at my reflection wider before running off out of the room after Jaime’s voice.

“ Im coming!!”

I dont look that bad.

And now I could finally start to see that.

The end.

OOOOOOOH ITS FINALLY DONE ITS FINALLY DONE! 

Ive been working on this for three months now and it was really difficult to finish. Originally it wasnt supposed to be so angsty but...it turned out really angsty at the end.

@phantommoonpeople

@kid-crashed

@call-me-n0ni-chan

Tagging those I know will want to read this

I hope you all like it!!

[kandikorne]

My Demon [JHS]

Genre: Angst 

Word Count: 5K

Pairing(s): Hoseok x Reader, Jin x Reader

A/n: Real quick this talks about abusive relationships, don’t read if triggered easily. If you do read please understand I’m not here romancing these relationships, this story is a fanfic and should not be taken serious. 

Paranoia... 

I’m paranoid... 

Delusional..

Stuck in my own head, deep in my own thoughts, that I can't even realize that he’s not real. Or so says my therapist, but I’ve never seen this man or experienced such feelings of being watched until I moved.

He’s real and he lives in my apartment. I’ve put him off for so long, at first he was just this constant, annoying buzz, like an angry fly, I could easily ignore him and push his presence off; because at that time I didn’t know. 

I had no clue that he existed outside of my nightmares, until I started to awake with bruises on my neck. Hickeys, that’s what they’re called, but to me I don’t see it. The bruises look more like someone was strangling me, I can just barely make out where the fingers were. 

Again, my therapist claims that these delusions are just in my head, and while I’m in one of them I could easily be hooking up with strangers. But something like that, I would know. I’d know what I was doing and where I was going. 

“Schizophrenia is hard to understand, most certainly for someone of your age, it’s hard for anyone to understand really,” she’d start as we’d sit across from one another in her office, the heavy maroon desk the only thing blocking me from her. Most sessions I never look at her face, ashamed of my disorder, and instead focus on the colorful hot air balloon hanging behind her, with the cheesy quote of: Life’s a journey, chase it. 

That was a measly three months ago, even when I took the prescription pills, which she said should help me cope, did absolutely nothing and he was still chilling in my home. Sometimes I’d come in after work and he’d be on the couch, his black hair styled neatly, his soft brown eyes watching me as I’d cross the room and head to my bedroom. 

Occasionally he’d follow me. 

Three months ago, God that feels like a lifetime from where I am now. He, Hobi, a demon, summoned by the previous tenant, stuck around in hopes that she’d return. Instead, I came into the picture, a new toy for the childish demon. 

“Y/n,” he groaned lying on my couch, his eyes closed and an annoyed look plastered on his devilishly handsome face. “What?” 

“The Tv’s out.” He grumbled sitting up and looking at me as I was typing up an essay. “The Tv needs some freetime too you know.” My words came out light and jokingly, only Hobi didn’t find it very amusing.  

“I’m serious,” he growled as he stared me down, if I knew one thing an angry Hobi was a scary one. 

“So am I, you’re always watching it and running up my bill. I barely have enough money to keep the lights on and to feed myself. It doesn’t help that you, a paranormal creature, keeps snacking on all my food and running up my bills. Seriously Hobi, aren't you like dead or something? You’re a demon not a human, you don't need to watch Tv or eat. You’re immortal.” 

His frown deepened as his calm brown eyes became a bright shade or silver as he glared me down, fear nested deep in my gut, telling me that I screwed up. “Don’t you remember, you’re a meek mortal that I’m allowing to live, out of mercy. Keep trying me and I’ll drag you down to Hell by your hair.” He snarled and turned his attention back to the dead Tv. 

The lights began to flicker, and I worried that the power company was about to shut off my power for being a week late with the payment. The ground shook as things began to rise from the ground and hover mid air, Hobi was raging. 

“Hobi! Calm down, please!” I yelled the lightbulbs instantly shattered, glass flying everywhere. “Ah, ow... Fuck.” I cursed under my breath as I pulled a piece of glass out of my forearm, biting my lip not to cry out from how deep the glass flew in, and the pain of removing it, instead I focused on how badly I was hurting my lip. 

“Y/n,” everything fell back into place, except the lights were still shattered and my arm was dribbling blood. The demons eyes softened as he took in the damage, his shoulders sagged a bit as he walked towards me, head down as he scowled.  “

Taking a step back to avoid the ill tempered demon I came in contact with the counter. “St-Stay back...” I managed while whimpering in pain. He growled and ripped my hand away from the cut.

“Stop,” I whispered as he sniffed my blood, his cold tongue darted across the wound making me gasp. “Hobi, knock it off.” He chuckled as he stared into my face, eyes full of mischief and glee. Whatever he was planning I didn't like it. 

Pinning my arm down he took his free hand and shoved his index finger into the cut, wiggling it around as I let out a scream in agony. “Stop trying to fight me,” he barked into my ear he released my arm, finger still wedged into my skin, his now free hand falling to my throat strangling me, my free hand fell onto the hand crushing my windpipe, my nails fell into his skin. 

My eyes began to roll back, black spots fell into my vision, my hand fell loosely from his, my body became limp. “You left me, Ro. You left me and here’s what you get!” His grip tightened, my legs gave out, I started to slide down, only for his tight grip to lift me up off the floor by my neck. His cold silver eyes met mine, widening slightly at the sight before him. I wanted to scream and beg for mercy and remind him, I’m not Ro. 

I fell to the ground in front of him, my hands flying to my throat as I tried to regain my breathing. The air burned as it filled my lungs, I looked up and onto his face, a mixture of emotions swam in his eyes, shaking his head he moved back to the couch and sat. 

“Pay the bill...” He grumbled leaving me on my knees, blood still oozing out my arm as tears clouded my vision. I stood up shakily, supporting myself with the counter as I glared him down. 

“I...I hate you! I hate you! I wish you’d leave me the fuck alone, I’m not Ro, I’m just Y/n! Whatever your business is with her you should take it up with her, not me!” I screeched, tears running down my cheeks. “I hope you rot in Hell,” I cursed and he chuckled. 

“Oh sweetheart I already have, that’s where I reside. My forever home, but you dear, you’re what’s keeping me here. Grounded and safe from the eternal misery, I could just drag you right down to Hell. Wanna go?” He asked a glint of amusement in his eyes. 

My lower lip trembled as I ran out of my apartment, down the halls to the stairs, taking two at a time, nearly falling but two strong arms captured me. “LET ME GO! LET ME!” I screeched, tears running down my cheeks as I fought against the demons grip. 

“H-Hey calm down, I heard what happened, I came to check on you after the commotion.” He released me as I turned around to face the male. He was quite attractive, a friendly face. Warm, soft brown eyes, a blonde mullet,and a soft face that could put anyone at ease. 

“Y-Yeah, um, sorry about that.” I whispered head bowed in embarrassment. “Holy Hell you’re bleeding, did he do this to you?” Asked the male causing me to look up and at my cut. 

“He?” I questioned surprised that this male knew of the demon. “Yeah, your boyfriend. I know it’s none of my business really but I can hear you two fighting through the walls, him yelling at y- Your neck!” He exclaimed fingers ghosting over where Hobi’s hand had been. 

“You don't have to remain in an abusive relationship, you can just leave him.” My eyes flitted to the ground as I shook my head in sorrow, “I really can’t. I have nowhere else to go, I spent all my money on that shithole of an apartment, plus all my belongings are in there.”  

“I have a friend, his name’s Jin, and I’m sure he’d love to have such a nice, pretty young lady around. Sorry that came out as creepy, Jin helps those who have been in abusive relationships, he’ll give advice and a nice place to stay until you can get back on your feet. Here’s his card.” I took the piece of paper and read it.

Dr. Kim Seokjin.

“Thank you, but really I-”

He grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes, “It’ll get worse if you stay with him. No matter how many times he says he loves you, it’s not worth it, he’s not worth it. You’re beautiful and young, you can find someone way better than him.” 

“I- Who are you?” I managed to ask and he smiled softly. 

“Right I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Taehyung, but everyone calls me Tae.  Here I’ll escort you to Jin’s place.” 

“Th-Thank you but-” 

“Trust me going back there will solve nothing.” He grabbed my hand and started to lead me downstairs. “Y/n,” came Hobi’s voice causing me to jump slightly in Tae’s grip. 

“Wait for me in the lobby,” he whispered and released me, giving me a gentle shove towards the stairs. 

“Y/n, upstairs,” Commanded Hobi, anger evident in his voice. I blinked and looked between the two males, one a mere mortal the other a powerful demon. “Upstairs,” he gritted his eyes hard, a small whimper escaped my lips. 

“Go wait in the lobby, if i’m not down in five minutes go to Jin’s.” Whispered Tae looking me over one last time, obviously I wasn't his first case. “I-I can’t....” I whimpered and Hobi smirked in pride. 

“You can, just go to the lobby.” I shook my head and walked over towards Hobi, “I’m sorry Taehyung... Really I am.” I blinked back the tears and walked back towards my apartment, Hobi laughing as he put his hand on my shoulder leading me back. 

Taehyung grabbed my hand and pulled me back, “I’m sorry but I can't let that happen.” 

“Taehyung, just-” Before I could finish my sentence Hobi had Tae by the throat, his eyes a searing red. “This is my girl.” He growled, his grip tightening on Tae’s throat. His eyes pleading me, his mouth moving quickly shaping the word. RUN. 

There I stood momentarily frozen, eyes wide, tears falling quick.  “Hobi, let him go! I’ll go back and-and never leave. Just let Tae live.” He chuckled his grip loosening slightly, as Tae managed a breath in. 

“You will, after I make sure that this menace is dead. I can't have him getting any ideas.” Before I could say or do anything, Tae had shoved a knife into Hobi’s stomach. 

“Run!” He shouted and this time I did not hesitate, I sprinted down the stairs until I reached the lobby. Even as I got to the lobby I pushed open the glass doors and ran down the street, pushing past random pedestrians earning a few angry shouts in protest; but none of that mattered. 

Once I was a block away from my apartment complex I looked down at the card Tae had given me. I knew where Jin’s apartment was, I passed it daily on my way to work. Catching my breath I took off in a sprint and ran to the building.

Fifteen minutes later I was out of breath and standing in a fancy lobby, glass chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, marble floors, and rich wooden walls. I felt so out of place here, carefully I padded to the front desk and looked at the annoyed receptionist. 

“Yes, how may I help you?” He asked in a bored tone, obviously done with me. “I’m h-here to see K-Kim Seokjin...”

“Do you have a meeting?”

“No but-”

“Then leave.”

“No it’s important please!” 

“Security!” Shouted the receptionist. 

“No. no, Kim Taehyung sent me here. He gave me Seokjin’s business card. Please don't send me back out there. I’m begging you.” I wanted to scream and kick, anything to make the tired eyed receptionist understand my pain. 

“Please...” I begged falling to my knees crying while two arms grabbed me, a finger fell into my cut, forcing a scream out of my lips. “Stop,” ordered the tired receptionist looking at me, the guard let go and looked at his hand and my wound. 

“Stitches,” he muttered, the male behind the desk nodded, boredly, obviously not giving a single fuck. “Give me the card.” With shaking hands I did.

“Lead her upstairs and take her to Jin.” The guard nodded and grabbed my hand in his, my hand was so small compared to his. I was lead to an elevator and together we got in. 

The guard pushed his thumb to the fifteenth floor and the doors closed slowly. “What’s your story?” He asked in a gentle tone, he looked so shy and nervous around me. 

“Previous tenants ex-boyfriend showed up to my home...” I lied carefully and the guard nodded, sympathetic eyes landing onto me once more. “Your neck, he tried to strangle you to death.” I nodded my head slowly.

“But he stopped before I could die.”

“Doesn’t make it better.” 

“I know.” 

“How long has this been happening?”

 “He’s been staying with me for three months. No issues really at first, today was the first time it ever really happened, the Tv went out, because I hadn’t been able to pay the the bill. We got into an argument and then he choked me.” 

“And stabbed you.” Finished the guard.

“No, the lights shattered and a stray piece of glass flew into my arm and I pulled it out, then he shoved his finger into the wound.” I finished and the guard looked at me sadly. 

“That dude sounds like a real ass, no wonder his girlfriend left him, I’m sorry you got stuck with him.” 

“I am too, hopefully this Seokjin dude can help me.” 

“He can, he’s good at his job.” Finished the guard as we reached the fifteenth floor, the two of us got out, his hand still in mine as we walked down the hall and to his apartment. 

“Everything will be okay.” Spoke the guard giving me a quick hug before returning to the elevator. I softly knocked on the door. Waiting patiently for the man to answer. 

After a minute I knocked harder and louder. After a second I heard footsteps and the door swung open. “Ahh you’re the girl Yoongi just informed me about. How was the elevator ride with Jungkook, he was nice right? Didn't hurt you did he? Oh your arm, worse your throat. Oh dear, sit, sit.” He said urgently taking my hand and leading me to one of the couches. 

“Y-You’re Kim Seokjin, right?” 

“In the flesh,” he said with a soft smile as he grabbed a first aid kit from the kitchen. “I’m going to disinfect your arm, then I’m going to stitch up the wound, depending if it’s as deep as it looks. Are you okay with that?” Nodding my head slowly Jin gave me an empathetic smile. 

Wiping away the blood as gently as he could, he slowly grabbed a rag and the bottle of disinfectant. Resting the rag under the cut he poured the peroxide into the wound, a hiss of pain escaping my lips. 

“I know this hurts but it’ll feel way better after it’s treated properly, while I work on you, tell me something about your abuser please.” So I did, just not the part that’s he’s a demon, or that my therapist and the psychologist all claimed that I have schizophrenia, which has been proven 100% incorrect. 

“Do you know his real name?” 

“No, he just told me it was Hobi.” 

“And he never told you anything else about him?” 

“No I’m sorry, I probably sound crazy. I should g-”

“You’re not leaving here Y/n. Everything is fine, if you leave and go back to him... It could get worse, you could be dead by tomorrow.” 

“O-Okay, but where do I stay. I don’t want to mean you harm or anything.”

“You can rest here, I can show you to your room. You also mentioned Taehyung, I’m sure the accuser will be arrested thanks to Tae.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Taehyung’s a cop, off duty when this happened but a cop. He’s also my business partner.” 

“He was strangling Taehyung before I left,” Hurrying off the couch and looking at Jin with wide eyes, “H-he could be dead because of me. I-I-”

“Calm down Y/n, Taehyung’s a smart man, he would’ve radio-ed in before coming to your rescue.” Even as he spoke those words it was evident that he too was having doubts. 

“I’m so sorry, I-I, it’s my fault.” I mumbled sinking to my knees on the carpet and Jin watched my behavior in interest. 

“You blame a lot on yourself, but this isn’t your fault. He’s still alive, I’m sure of it. Did you see what else happened?”

“Tae stabbed him.”

“See he’s still alive then, no human could survive that.” Jin’s smile was too much and I felt bad, Hobi wasn’t a human and I knew that, only Jin didn’t and I can't tell him that or else he’d see me as crazy. Taehyung was most likely dead. 

“Come along Y/n, let’s go to your room. Relax and take a nice warm bath please.” He lead me down a narrow hallway and we came to a stop in front of a nice guest room. The space was much bigger than my own room, the bed was about the size of my kitchen. 

“Th-This place is too much. I-I can't stay here, I’ll ruin-”

“Stop Y/n, it’s all okay. You’re okay. Don't stress over it.” His hand fell to my cheek as he gently stroked his thumb over a tear I didn't know I had cried. “Go and make yourself comfortable, you deserve it after what he put you through, and wash off your feet, don't need them getting infected.”

Looking down I noticed I was in only one sock, my feet were dirty and cut. “I-I...”

“Stop, it’s okay, here. Go rest beautiful.” I blushed and moved into the room as he went over to the closet trying to find something for me to wear out of all the female clothes inside. A moment of panic struck me, why did he have so many females clothes? Then I remembered he helps abused girls get back on their feet. 

“This looks about your size,” he said handing me a black tee shirt and some sweats. “Thank you,” I whispered looking at the ground and he laughed. 

“You don't have to be so shy around me, I’m here to help you, I’ll be in the kitchen shout if you need me. After you’re finished let me know what you’d like for dinner, I can order takeout or cook it, whichever you prefer.” He smiled brightly at me before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. I moved away from the bed and to the attached bathroom. 

I pulled open the door and turned on the lights and gasped at my reflection. I looked terribly pale, bruises on my neck, blue veins popping up with my deep purple, dark circles. That wasn’t the only issue I saw in the mirror. 

“What’s so good about him?” Asked Hobi and I shivered as his hands fell to my waist pulling me into him, my hands dropping the clothing, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“Don’t fret princess, I’m not here to hurt you.” He spun me around and pinned me to the bathroom wall, my reflection showed my wide eyes and fear painted face. “Pl-Please...” I whispered, his cold brown eyes watching my every movement. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered closing my eyes in fear of what he’d do. Releasing my arms he stepped back, peeking out at him I noticed him sitting on the sink, arms over his chest, ankles crossed. 

“Do I scare her that much?” He pondered aloud looking me over. Noting the fear in my eyes he sighed, “I do.” He muttered carding his hand through his rich black hair. 

“Am I...Harming you?” Obviously.

I nodded my head and his eyes landed on the gauze on my arm. “I caused that,” he acknowledged, sadness in his tone. He moved towards me and gently grabbed my chin forcing it up into the air, as his cold fingers trailed down my neck and to where his hand once laid. Taking in a few shaky breaths, afraid he’d kill me for real this time, instead he retracted his hand and looked into my scared eyes. 

“I never really met a human before, besides Ro, but that bitch chickened out and ran away. Afraid of me, you stayed and put up with my antics until today.” He whispered his fingers ghosting over my clavicle, my breath hitching in my throat. 

“You don’t have to fear me any more Y/n,” he muttered brushing a kiss to my neck making me gasp as I pushed him away. “You’ve never feared me until today, I fucked up.” He mumbled, his lips now against the shell of my ear.

“But you no longer need to worry or fear me, I’m about to give you power over me.” I looked at him in confusion as he moved back to cup my face in his hands. “A demon's name gives you power over them, mine is Hoseok. Anything you say to me, a command or plea, anything, I have to abide with it. Kick me out of your life, make everything better.” 

He sat back on the counter looking me dead in the eye. 

“Okay... Hoseok why’d you stay, why didn't you leave when Ro fled.” 

“Denial.”

“Why didn't you leave when I moved in, Hoseok?”

“Interest, feelings. You were so innocent and soft, naive to the bad of the world. Something I was jealous of, but I got attached. I wanted to be human so bad, you don’t know this part, and you’re gonna call me creepy. Sometimes instead of chilling on the couch watching late night shows, and you were asleep in bed, I’d just lie with you close my eyes and act like I was normal. Act like a human, feelings, dreams, all that. And that I had a girlfriend,” his cheeks flushed. 

“I learnt anger today, but I used it wrongly. Nearly killing you wasn't an intention, nor was scaring you. Harming you was an accident. I’m sorry. I just want to be human, to feel. Obviously I’m still learning and trying to apply human emotions to my life, and I failed.” 

I bit my lower lip and stared him down, arms crossed an angry look on my face. “Just because you apologize doesn’t make what you did any better. How do I know you won't hurt me more.” Even as I said those words I felt a pang of guilt in my heart. He wants to be human, but he’s a demon by nature, and demons are cold, hard, vicious monsters. What if he’d never change and would continue to hurt me?

“Hoseok, if you stayed would you...hurt me?”

“No, unless you’d tell me to.” 

“Well I wouldn't, why the fuck would I do that?” 

“Some people like it rough,” he said with a laugh making me shake my head. “Oh God why?” I said with a snicker, he smiled softy at me, eyes warm and full of life. 

“Hoseok, promise me you’ll  never hurt me.”

“I swear I  won’t hurt you, if I do I’ll forcefully take myself down to Hell, and chain myself in the eternal flames. I swear it.” His eyes darkened with his words as looked down at me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. 

“Ow Hobi you’re hurting me,” I whispered and he pulled back. “well fuck, I gotta go chain myself in Hell now.”

“You’re joking right?”

“No, I said if I hurt you that’s where I’d be.” 

“Ugh, you ‘re so stubborn sometimes. Hoseok, stay with me please? Just don’t hurt me on purpose or out of rage.” 

“That I can do.” he said smiling as he rested his forehead on mine. “Usually in late night movies this is where two characters have sex... So?” 

“We are not fucking Hobi.” 

“Please....?” 

“Maybe later.” 

“Okay can I kiss you then?” 

“Go for it.” Without a moment’s worth of hesitation he grabbed my chin and dipped his head down for our lips to meet. He was a soft kisser, surprising due to his hot, rough exterior. His hands slid down to my lower back, then to my ass, squeezing strongly. 

“Jump,” he muttered against my lips and I did as told, wrapping my legs around his well toned body. He started to walk out of the bathroom, lips still on mine. He moved one arm away from my backside, pushing open the window. 

“Hobi w-what are you doing?” I questioned and his dark eyes glimmered in mischief and lust. “Going home,” He muttered against my neck, softly biting the flesh. 

“That could kill us.” He chuckled against my neck using his free hands to brush my hair out of his way. “You seem to forget, I’m a demon. You’ll live, wouldn't let anything happen to you.” His eyes locked with mine and a smirk plastered on his face as he looked at my face. quickly he jumped, a scream escaped my lips, quickly capturing mine with his again. 

Clenching my eyes in fear I landed on a squeaky, but comfortable bed, his hand holding my head up while I was lying down. I opened my eyes and noticed I was back in my room.  His lips still on mine, he pulled back and looked into my eyes.  “You look tired,” he stated as he buried his head in between my neck and shoulder. 

“Hobi what are you doing?”

“You need to sleep and I’m just gonna rest here with you, taking in your scent.” His lips tickled my skin as he spoke causing me to giggle softly while I rubbed the back of his head. 

“Ugh, you’re heavy,” I whined playfully and he softly bit my neck. 

“And you’re sexy.”

“What?”

“Thought we were listing facts here.” 

“Funny,” I muttered raking my fingers through his soft, rich locks. “I’m a serious demon. I tell no lies, especially to you.” 

“Dork,” I mumbled closing my eyes to sleep. “But I’m your dork.” 

“Is Taehyung alive?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t kill him, I saw your fear there and how serious you both were. Hurting you like that scared me.” 

“Thank God he’s alive.”

“Why are you thanking him? I spared him...”

“Thanks Hoseok for not killing a cop who was trying to protect me.” 

“You’re welcome,” I rolled my eyes, it was obvious he didn’t know what sarcasm was. 

“Can I fuck you now?” 

“Hoseok what the fuck? You just told me to get some rest, rest does not involve sex.” 

“Can I fuck you after you rest?” 

“Maybe, depends if you’re nice to me. Relationships don't revolve around sex, you know.”  

“I know but come on, it’s been three months.”

“Three months of me annoying you.” 

“Fine you win. Sweet dreams beautiful,” he mumbled into my neck.

I awoke from my nightmare, in a cold sweat looking around me. I was alone on my side of the bed, Jin peering out the window as the mornings sunlight peeked in. That stupid nightmare of Hobi hurting me always managed to sneak up on me, even though I knew I was long gone, protected after the day I told him, “Hoseok go to Hell.” 

He was shocked that I had managed to see through the hazy dream like state he put me in, trying to make me stay with him. When I said those words his eyes softened and he looked down at his toes. 

“If that’s what you want Y/n. Goodbye, but I hope you know everything you saw and heard from me was the truth. I wanna be human for you, but right now I’m a demon and I’ll do as you wish and leave.” He had bowed his head 

Maybe his words were true, but I’d never know, after all I wasn't gonna stick around, I was afraid. He never snapped like that before and in the heat of the moment I made my decision, Jin was so much nicer anyways.

Staying with Jin had became something else besides a place to stay, slowly after a month of living with him, and the feeling had grown, we slowly began to express how we felt towards one another. I no longer lived with him as someone escaping a demon, but as his girlfriend. 

So, because of that I can really only thank both Hoseok and Taehyung. Speaking of Tae, Hoseok had been telling the truth when he said he spared him. Every few days Tae would show up and greet both me and Jin, more so me with hugs, and Jin with casual handshakes and news on how some of the other girl’s that they’ve helped or need to help. 

Everything ended up well in the end. But deep in my gut I still felt sorry for Hoseok. But seeing Jin smile at me, or just hold my hand, made everything better and squashed the sorry thoughts I felt for the demon. As did Tae’s presence, Taehyung could’ve died that day, but Hoseok had spared him for me. Even so, I still feel both sorry and angry with him, but because of him, I’m happy, I ended up with a top notch, caring boyfriend and an amazing, goofy best friend. 

A better life. 

[sylvasthesnowfox]

13. year ii

Day two-hundred and forty seven.

Gwen doesn't know what to say. There is a chilling silence in the main access shaft. She stands before Eliza; on the Mayor's sides are Rei and Naomi, the former looking distinctly uncomfortable with her eyes flicking between Gwen's many 'family members' behind and around her, and the latter maintaining a threatening glare as she watches the same. Many of the gangsters are watching Gwen specifically, waiting for her to say something, because that's what she told them she'd do.

Eliza is watching her too. She can see the pain written in Eliza's face. This wasn't supposed to happen. Gwen knows that's what she's thinking.

But what she's doing is right. Gwen knows that, too. What the others did was inexcusable. Apathy disorder or not, good intentions or no, it's tantamount to murder. Markus was not dead before, but he is now. As are several others.

She doesn't know what to say.

"Come on," one of the boys behind her jeers. "What are you doing?! Are you on our side or what?!"

"There are no 'sides'," Eliza hisses, glaring over Gwen's shoulder. "Or at least, there shouldn't have been; we are all survivors of this world together - "

"That's a fuckin' weird thing to hear from the bitch that banished us down here in the first place," another girl snaps.

"Stop," Gwen says, feebly.

"What?" Someone else speaks now; Gwen can't keep track of them. "What was that you just fuckin said?" Gwen instinctively doesn't care who it is. She wants to yell at them. She wants to tell them they can fend for themselves down here for all she fucking cares. They'll starve without her, after all, they'll all go fucking crazy without her keeping them busy, giving them shit to do, letting them yell at her, letting them fight each other and then scurrying in to pick up the pieces; without here they'll be dead in two weeks. She knows that and she wants desperately to scream it at the boy yelling at her for daring to tell them to stop fighting.

But she can't. That's just her grief talking. The part of her that can't stop seeing her siblings one by one falling to the apathy disorder, too exhausted of defending her from their peers to continue any longer. Eliza claims there are only a few lucid survivors upstairs left. The majority of them are all in Gwen's domain. Soon, she'll have all of them.

She's got to take care of them. She's got to stand up for them. Someone has to. They're her friends' friends. She...

"This decision is final," Eliza shouts. The gangs had turned on her, but Naomi's gun is raised, Rei's arms are unfolded and her fingers flexed at the ready. Gwen realizes with a start that a fight might break out - the worst possible outcome - how can she stop it? How can she...

They won't listen to her... so...

She keeps her journal with her at all times now. She opens it, thinking of the page she wants, quickly scrawling shapes half from memory and drawing an invisible flat plane across the access shaft, between her and Eliza. The barrier she hoped for materializes - a sharp gust of ozone and a brilliant flash precede it, and when everyone's vision clears, sparking electricity now lances across the walkway and the pipes, ceiling to floor. Eliza stares at it in shock - Naomi with muted surprise - and Rei with relief, and pride.

Gwen withers as their eyes meet. Rei makes her feel so warm. Look what I can do, she wants to say, pathetic like a puppy desperate for attention from someone that has smiled at them. But this is the wrong time and place for her to feel gushy and weak. She has to turn her eyes away.

Gwen's 'family' is recovering from their shock. They are beginning to understand what happened. In the moment of peace, Gwen's spell speaking louder than any of their words, Eliza turns to take her leave; they open the elevator door and step through into the atrium above, and Gwen lets down her barrier once it's closed. Several boys run to the elevator afterward - but when it opens it just reveals an empty elevator shaft now.

Eliza has banned travel to and from the maintenance floors. Only those who can skip the elevator can pass.

Day two-hundred and fifty nine.

Eliza rubs her face again. She's exhausted. Rei wonders if the apathy disorder is setting in. The thought threatens to break her heart, but she refuses to let it defy her purpose. She's spent the last several minutes describing, at a high level, what she knows about the recreation process. It's finally time to start talking about these things. The end, or rather the new beginning, is nearly at hand, at last. But Eliza doesn't seem relieved. Not as much as Rei was hoping for.

"The reason I wanted to talk to you today," Eliza sighs, "is because it's far past time we start talking about what we actually want to do with the new world. Right? The whole point of this is to grant you the chance to recreate a world with different properties than the one we started with."

"Well," Rei says nervously, "that's not wrong, but my focus has been primarily on preventing it from dying prematurely like this one did. There was some defect with this iteration that I have to find and correct before recreation happens."

"That sounds kind of simple," Eliza says slowly, but there's a faint smile on her face. Rei realizes with a gasp - oh, god, it feels like it's been lifetimes, but she realizes this is a reference to something Eliza used to tease her about, and -

"Well, complicated things often do," she answers, hoping desperately that this is what Eliza is looking for, and Eliza smiles more broadly and closes her eyes, chuckling quietly. "You haven't said that in so long!" Rei adds, grinning playfully. "I'd almost forgotten what it was like to have you telling me I don't know how our science labs work."

"To be fair, you didn't," Eliza snorts.

"I did too, sort of," Rei counters, folding her arms. "I just did things by instinct. The numbers would sort themselves out later, right?"

"Only because I was there to sort them," Eliza sighed. She rubs her face again, taking a deep breath. "And that's, again, why we're talking about this now. You're not taking this seriously enough, Rei. It's great that you've learned enough that we can finally start talking about the new world at all, after all this sitting around and waiting, but at this point we've sacrificed too much to let this opportunity slip by without taking full advantage of it."

"It's not that I don't agree," Rei says carefully, "but I really am not sure what you're expecting to happen here."

"Haven't you thought about it at all?" Eliza says slowly, raising her eyebrows, inclining her head. "Messing with things like the laws of physics, or something like that? Any small tweak you make could have drastic effects on resulting world..."

"I don't know how much control I'll have, exactly," Rei says slowly. "It's not really a precise process, from what I understand."

"All the more reason to be very careful about what you're trying to achieve," Eliza replies, her voice firm. "Even in the course of correcting the defect, you might change something dramatic."

Rei narrows her eyes. She's confused. "So should I not do this, for fear of side effects?"

"No, of course not," Eliza sighs with aggravation. "But you shouldn't go in blind."

"I have no intent of going in blind," Rei interrupts, folding her arms. "And that aside, whether we must begin tomorrow or I still have years left to study and plan, I'll never be able to accomplish anything by waiting until we've planned for all contingencies. We have to trust that we'll all know what we're doing and that we'll overcome whatever obstacles are in our way or else we have no hope from the start."

But the scene changes suddenly after that. The conversation's end is not seen.

Day two-hundred and ninety.

Gwen feels numb. Body, heart, mind. She has felt this way for six weeks.

Those who were once her friends and siblings, people she loved and cherished, who she has endangered herself to protect and would do so again, they have all fallen to the apathy disorder. Eliza now guards them, with all other survivors, upstairs. They have been placed into stasis, to be reanimated when a new world is prepared for them, and they'll figure out how to awaken them once that happens. So Eliza says, with what little hope left she can muster, when she visits Gwen in her basement.

All four of them can skip the elevator now, of course. Rei has taught them all to do it.

The only waking survivors left now rule the maintenance floors. They have long since stopped working their positions running the life support systems - not that that matters anymore either, since Gwen has snuck around to each of them and fixed them with runes, as well as placing runes on them that allow her to monitor and adjust them at a distance.

Once every week, she comes out of her office and shapes food for the gangsters with her magic. At first they thanked her backhandedly. Asked, demanded, that she fix the elevator, to which she would say she would do her best. She had lied and told them she didn't know how to skip it, and that meant she couldn't skip any doorways in the maintenance floors for risk of being seen. Now, weeks later, the thanks have stopped, and she's met only with cold glares. She understands that they see her as an enemy. As soon as they figure out how to overcome her, they will do so, storm the Remnant, and probably attempt to seize control of it by force. Their only hope is if Rei and Naomi allow themselves to be defeated, but even if that happens, Gwen cannot envision Yomi succumbing to them under any circumstances, given what Eliza says about her.

But that's fine. The survivors' hatred for Gwen gives them passion and purpose. It keeps them going. It means there are able hands for whatever Rei's grand scheme will be, even if those hands are not necessarily willing. Gwen hopes against hope that when faced with the ressurrection of the world, they'll shape up. They'll realize that the world must be bigger than themselves and their squabbles. But until then she will continue to be their enemy just so that they have one. For their own safety. For their own health.

Someone has to.

Day three-hundred and thirty.

"Soon," Yomi sighs. It's different from when she usually says it. For just a moment Rei feels a spark of intense excitement - and then it is underscored and annihilated by a flood of dread.

"Mother?" she whispers, in horror, and Yomi turns to her and smiles.

"The end is coming," Yomi says softly. "I can feel my health slipping away. I'll hold on as long as I can, but I don't want to stretch myself too far. I..." She laughs, closing her eyes, shaking her head. "I admit," she says, "I don't want it to be... painful. I've lived very long, so... I'm a little afraid, to be honest."

"Oh my god," Rei whispers, a phrase she has used by instinct for many years now even though it is meaningless to her. Hesitantly she approaches her adoptive mother and mentor, holding her arm as though to keep her upright; Yomi's footing is strong still, but she does seem tired, and she doesn't push Rei away. "How long?" she breathes, unable to stifle her excitement entirely anymore. "When will it happen?"

"When you are ready," Yomi replies. "I don't know if I have much more than... a month left in me."

"That's not long," Rei whispers. "Okay - okay, um - we need to talk about what's going to happen then, don't we?"

"Yes," Yomi agrees, "but not now. We need to sleep now. It's late."

"I'm not tired," Rei says blankly. "But - but if you need to rest, that's fine. Please take your time, mother."

Yomi laughs. She smiles gently at Rei, and Rei smiles back hesitantly, not sure what to expect. This is a moment Rei has known was coming. Just like the end of the world. But this she is not as prepared for.

"It's nice to have you taking care of me for a change," Yomi observes, ever so faintly coy.

Day three-hundred and forty-two.

"They can't go on like this," Eliza tells her, her face ashen, her voice faint. "Gwen, I understand that it's hard, but we're going to need them, especially if something happens to Rei. They listen to you, even if they don't respect you they - they at least have to pay attention to you."

"Are you asking me to threaten them?" Gwen murmurs back.

Day three-hundred and fifty.

"Maybe so," Eliza sighs. "Maybe that's what it takes, Gwen. That's the kind of people they are, aren't they?"

Gwen can't tell her she's wrong. Even if Eliza was talking about Gwen's 'siblings' she wouldn't be wrong. Gwen has always tried to be kind and soft, because without kindness and softness in your life, you become cold and bitter. She knew that, she knew that from the kids that came before her in the orphanage and she knew that from the kids that appreciated her before things went to hell. But maybe they were all too far gone now. Maybe she couldn't save them.

Day three-hundred and fifty four.

"I just don't know where to begin," Gwen whispers, shaking her head.

"Gwen," Eliza sighs, "Gwen, Gwen." She puts her hands on Gwen's shoulders, leans into her face. She looks scared and afraid and sad. It is a face only Gwen is allowed to see. At least Eliza still needs and appreciates her, Gwen thinks, with a measure of relief. "You have always tried to be the best person you can be," she says, a mournful smile on her lips. "You have always tried to be the reliable, trustworthy caretaker. That's who you are."

"Yes," Gwen whispers.

Day three-hundred and sixty.

"But they don't want that from you anymore," Eliza whispers, seriously. "Even though they need it, they won't accept it. You realize what that means that you have to do, doesn't it?"

Gwen is silent.

Day three-hundred and sixty two.

"When the apathy disorder first started," Eliza continues, "I made the decision to preserve the victims even though they had conceded in their hearts that they wanted to die, or at least didn't care. Against their wishes I protected them."

Gwen is still silent.

"When Emily tried to kill herself the first time," Eliza presses, "we all saved her, even though she had made up her mind. Against her wishes we protected her."

Day three-hundred and sixty three.

"I can't," Gwen whispers.

"You have to," Eliza whispers back, her voice cracking. "I know it's hard. I want so badly to do it for you, but they won't listen to me. You have to do it."

"How?" Gwen mouths, looking up at her in horror. "What do I tell them? What do I say to take back their trust?"

Day three-hundred and sixty four.

"Maybe you need to give them what they want."

Day three-hundred and sixty six.

Yomi has been bedridden for a week. She is conscious and cheerful, if clearly nervous. She has told Rei everything she can.

"Today is a good day," Yomi sighs. "The boundary is weak today."

"I can feel it too," Rei agrees. She feels sick. She is torn between ecstatic excitement and bittersweet sorrow. Her mother dies today.

"Tell me again the plan," Yomi says, turning her eyes to Rei. Rei nods and closes her eyes. This moment is important. Not just so that Rei herself knows the plan - that's important, yes, but - this is Yomi's assurance. Rei will carry on for her. She'll do the best job she possibly can. She knows she will! She knows she will.

"We'll strain the boundary at its edges," Rei recites, "and peel the remnant open at its center. At that point I will navigate to its conceptual center, the origin point of the timeline, and take control of it." She hesitates. "Once that happens... there will be no going back."

Yomi nods. "Once you have the Spark of Creation," she whispers, "I will die, and the remnant will end."

"Existence will reform around me as a universe seed," Rei continues solemnly, "and I will be the Curator. Once that happens, my job is to set in motion the laws that govern reality, and to return the Spark to the timeline, which will essentially reset existence once again using the parameters I've set. If everything is stable as it should be... it will create a universe and perpetuate forward."

"That's right," Yomi sighs, smiling, closing her eyes. Rei's heart skips a beat before she remembers that Yomi's death will be something that she directly causes, not something that happens suddenly before her eyes. "You're going to be amazing at this, Rei. Your passion and your drive have made you a great Curator."

"I'm glad you think so," Rei whispers, smiling weakly. "Um... I'm going to start the preparations, then."

"Yes," Yomi agrees. "It's time. You should start as soon as you're ready."

"Then..." Rei gulps. "Then I should... say goodbye."

Yomi chuckles, looking up at her again, shaking her head slowly. "I will be a part of the universe you create," she whispers. "Just not in this form. I will be watching constantly, Rei. You don't need to worry."

"Well, that's comforting," Rei laughs feebly, "but even so... I feel it's appropriate." She guides Yomi's hands together, holding them tightly in her own. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. For all of us. Thank you for protecting these people even though you hadn't planned to, and for teaching me what I need to know to save them."

"You will save everyone in this world, one way or another," Yomi whispers.

Rei doesn't have a response to that. She presses her lips together, straining against tears, looking down for a moment to collect herself. When she looks up, there's a serene understanding on Yomi's face that calms her heart, even as she's filled with a piercing cold certainty, a sense of closure that leaves her dark and alone instead of satisfied.

"Goodbye, mother," Rei whispers.

Yomi does not answer. She smiles. Rei accepts it. She lays Yomi's hands on her stomach, then rises and turns to walk out. She hasn't even reached the door before reality parts way for her, and she slips between its folds to enter Eliza's office, leaving Yomi in apartment - her crypt - for the last time.