#and the panic attack i had 10 minutes ago about failing second year when i dont even start till next week

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (two)

a/n: PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS ! holy gyat i just ate good chilli and it made me wanna get pregnant ANYWAYS.. i was gonna add spice but i found out the girl i like had a crush on a dude so you get more angst:) enjoy

content warnings: ANGST readers child is described to have curly hair, reader is of spanish speaking descent. (or atleast speaks it.) we on some white people shit lowk… ellie is good with kids😍😍😍😍😍 reader works in a hospital! you kids lowk an ass.. ellie has another panic attack. ellie still sad. CANADA MENTIONED RAAAHHHHHHHH cat brought up!!!! we almost get a kith…. this bitch is not proofread

wc: 4.4k

taglist @flowersforvi @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen @littlegingerperson5 @ellieslob @elliessluutt @macaroni676

a few days later ellie finds herself sitting in a booth at her work with her two colleagues. tonight was the first time she was going to babysit your son, and she was terrified

she found that in this moment was the first time her thoughts weren’t plagued of joel since he died.

“i swear! not even light years could dim such a woman.” ellie describes you as if you were a goddess. well, to her you were.

“can you shut the fuck up with that weird space shit and talk like a normal person?”

jesse scolds jokingly. he winces in pain as dina’s foot meets his shin under the table.

“whatever, dude. it’s true.” the girl sulks.

“hey! speaking of space nerd shit. how’s school going, el?” dina asks with a smile on her face.

little did she know the mere mention of school caused gut plummeting anxiety for ellie.

“uhh, it’s good. it’s- school, you know?.” ellie mutters, there isn’t much to say. besides the fact that she’s gonna fail if she doesn’t scrape together a thousand dollars for fucking textbooks.

sometimes ellie wondered if dina struggled with money. she works this shitty waitressing job for twenty bucks an hour, and she has a son. but then again, she didn’t have the burden of school on top of all her other responsibilities.

the table goes quiet after ellie’s response. she’s not one to open up about her personal life. she only told dina about joel dying a few weeks ago.

joel. joel.

ellies mind clouds over. like a switch that clicked, making her go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. she was always like that.

“ellie?” she hears a feminine voice break her out of her trance. a sympathetic expression on dina’s face when ellie looks up at her.

“sorry. what did you say?” she throws in a fake smile to distract from the fact that she was on the brink of another panic attack.

the last time she had a panic attack at work she was so embarrassed she didn’t come in for a week.

“i asked if you needed a ride tonight. y’know cause of the baby sitting.” dina offers, again.

ellie thinks about arguing with the girl, but she decides against it. knowing she’ll just end up in dina’s passenger seat anyway.

“yeah that would be awesome. thanks.” ellie couldn’t help but feel even more guilty every time dina offered. she felt like she was taking advantage of her. even though she knew she wasn’t.

ellie huffs out of her cheeks before standing up from the booth. “time to get back to work.” she jokingly frowns. causing jesse to laugh.

“it was time to get back to work 10 minutes ago.” he corrects in a ‘told you so’ tone as they start walking back to their designated areas.

“fuck off.” she peers, stopping so dina can catch up to them. she sticks her tongue out at jesse when dina places a hand on her shoulder.

“what a gentlewoman, she’s gonna love you.” she whispers and shoots ellie a wink. leaving ellie flustered yet rolling her eyes.

6:45

you had to be at work in an hour and your son was not cooperating.

“felix!” you shriek, the child was running around with a cheeto you gave him 3 hours ago. you fight the urge to laugh at his un styled curls and grimey face, but your stern mom facade over rode.

“¡vuelve aquí niño sucio!”

(“come back here dirty boy”)

he continued to run wild like a chicken with no head. you start to get sick of his behavior and put your foot down.

“felix. now.”

he stops in his tracks at your stern tone. he sulks as he makes his way to you. you smile at his obedience.

you take his gross cheeto and toss it into the trash. he pouts at your action which causes you to scoff. “put that lip away, chiquito.” you tease him.

he lightens up fast. his sad attitude being replaced with a toothy smile. it was infectious. whenever he was happy, you were happy.

“there we go!” you laugh as you zip up his sweater. he scrambles away before you could wipe the dirt off of his face. you sigh.

you picked your battles with him.

you decided to shoot ellie a quick text, hoping to prepare her for your crazy kid.

ellie’s running around the house in hopes to baby-proof the place when she gets a text from you.

sexy neighbor: hey ellie! he’s almost ready, and please excuse the dirt on his face. i promise i’m not a bad mom lol.

she smiles and begins to type back.

ellie: all good haha, is there any specific allergies or things you need done tonight?

she shuts off her phone and continues to clean up, moving the whiskey on the counter into the high parts of her cupboard.

she runs to her room and changes into a pair of gray sweats and a clean hoodie.

sexy neighbor: nope no allergies! could you make him dinner? if it’s to big of an ask i can totally send something! just say the word.

ellie: oh absolutely. i already planned to make him dinner anyway.

sexy neighbor: oh wow thank you so much, you’re going to be a great babysitter i’m sure 😉

ellie’s cheeks heat up at the text. you were such a mom. she thought to herself. she was just going to like the message when another comes through.

sexy neighbor: he is insisting to bring his coloring supplies. i hope that’s okay..?

ellie: oh wow were going to get along well. that’s totally fine :)

sexy neighbor: thanks sweetheart

a few minutes ellie’s front door is being knocked on by a small hand. when she opens the door she’s met with a backpack clad felix and you. in scrubs.

“hi!” she exclaimed as soon as she opened the door, her words mostly directed at the young boy.

“hello!” your son replies quickly. “i brought toys for us to play with!” she tells her, like he’s known her forever.

“oh thank god.” she puts a hand over her heart as she crouches down to his level.

“toys r’ scarce around here..” she warns. felix looks at her confused, but you laugh.

ellie stands up and puts out her hand for the boy to take, which he does. you smile at the interaction before crouching down to him.

“te amo, cariño” you gently whispered into his ear as you give him a small peck.

you stand up quickly and pull ellie in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, again.” you sighed into the hug as you expressed your gratitude. ellie smiled at you. she really wanted to kiss you right now.

“don’t sweat it, now get going mom. you’re gonna be late!” she jokes as she looks down at your son.

“you’re right. i should go.” you make your way to the car and get in. you roll down your window and blew kisses at your son, who was now in ellie’s arms. you shoot ellie a wink before taking off.

ellie puts your son down, keeping his hand interlocked with hers as she takes him inside.

“hey kid, does your mom speak spanish?”

—————————————————————-

you found yourself immediately trusting ellie when you first met her. her green eyes reminded you of your own sons.

you saw yourself in her quite a bit, you could tell she was hurting. when she opened up to you that night in your kitchen about her father you could tell.

she told you she had grown up without a mother and all you could think about was nurturing and comforting her like she deserved.

you also saw the way she looked at you.

ellie found great comfort in your sons presence. he distracted her from her usual routine, which wasn’t the healthiest..

currently, felix had ellie drawing each one of his toy cars.

“like this?” she asks, flipping the paper to show him her drawing of a red car.

“no!” he denies before showing his own. a paper full of scribbles with his name poorly printed at the top.

“ohhh.. i see.” she says before flipping the paper back to herself and scribbling atop her original drawing.

“like this?” she asks once again.

“yes!” he confirms. ellie laughs at his childish antics.

the boy had requested a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner around 8:30.

“yeah i could go for a grilled cheese right now.” ellie agrees as she pats his head.

ellie had mastered the art of cooking before she was 14. when joel started fostering her the first thing she asked him was if she could use the kitchen.

although she would do anything to do that for her career, in this economy there was no chance. so she settled on astrophysics. and boy was it expensive.

she just hoped that everything would work out and she could make joel proud.

your shift was fucking exhausting. first, some random psych patient spit in your face. then, you spilt coffee all over yourself not even halfway through the night.

you were ready to go home and see your baby.

you had texted ellie a few times throughout the night for updates and she replied with something positive every time.

ellie next door: yeah he’s fine don’t worry! hes coloring right now.

you: awh that’s my boy. i hope he’s not being to much.

ellie next door: nope not too much at all

ellie next door: *one attachment*

he says hi mama !

you: oh my god aweeeeeee you two are so cute.

you smiled and saved the image to your camera roll without hesitation. it was a picture of your son at ellie’s kitchen table, markers and paper littered her table.

the reflection of her on the black television caught her smiling widely as he waved at the camera.

you: did he eat anything yet?

ellie next door: yep! he requested a grilled cheese. he also had some snacks earlier.

you: perfectttt you’re a life saver!

ellie contemplates how she should respond to your message. she could start flirting or she could img fucking chill and be normal.

she chose the latter.

ellie next door: haha! it’s really no problem :)

ellie had put your son to bed in her bedroom rather than the couch. the kid had toddled in there before ellie could reach him.

she tried to chase him down but his curiosity made him fast and sneaky.

“get back here lil’ man!” she giggles as his tiny feet smack against the hardwood floors.

he giggles as he ran away from her, running into the first open door he sees, that being ellie’s room.

he was awestruck by the many comic book posters and the guitar in the corner of the room was where he was headed.

before ellie grabbed him, that is.

“i don’t think so.” she laughs as she picks him up with ease. gently tossing him onto the bed.

“you have a boys room. but you’re a girl.” the boy points out, not in a bad way. ellie could tell he was just stating what he saw.

“yeah thanks for telling me i didn’t know.”

by the time you arrived home the sun was about to come up, and you were fucking exhausted. you contemplated asking ellie to keep him the rest of the night, but you didn’t.

your kid, your responsibility. you reminded yourself. as you knocked on ellie’s door.

pajama clad ellie opens the door with a smile, welcoming you in immediately.

“hey ellie, how was it?” you ask with a yawn. she guides you over to her kitchen island. her house layout almost identical to yours.

ellie smiles and describes her night with your son in great detail. your heart melts at the way her face lights up during certain points of her story. she recalls how she chased him around after dinner and he insisted on sleeping in her room.

your reach into your purse and searched your wallet, you spoke as your hands fumbled in your bag.

“i really cannot thank you enough,” you begin, finally pulling out your wallet and pulling out a few twenties for ellie. she looks confused as you try to pass them to her, putting her hands out to decline.

“you already paid me, remember?” you nod - urging her to take the extra cash.

“i just wanted to give you a little extra.” you smile and ellie almost cries. she held it together though, she probably told you thank you about forty times before you laughed and told her it wasnt a problem.

ellie lead you to her bedroom to retrieve your son, who was dead asleep underneath her planet print bedsheets. ellies cheeks turned pink when you giggled and said; “nice sheets, el.”

you tried to gently wake your son but he wasn't having it. you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the bed. he groans and slides himself underneath the covers. you are fully on your knees at this point. “i swear, if you embarrass me.” you threaten in a whisper so ellie didn't hear, she still did.

ellie chuckled lowly. “he can sleep here, its pretty late anyways.” she smiled.

you slightly bit your lip. “are you sure?” it wasn't ellie that you didn't trust, it was your kid. ellie wasn't hearing it.

“positive.”

sleepovers at ellies became a recurring thing after that. your son was so excited everytime she babysat and it made your heart so full.

this time in particular your son was extra excited. ellie had promised him ice cream for not putting up a fight to leave the previous time.

usually she greeted you at the door with a smile and a hug. but this time she didn’t answer at all..

“mama where’s ellie?” your son asked. “i don’t know baby.” you reply with a raise of your eyebrow.

you saw her arrive home, you two even spoke briefly before she went in to unwind. she seemed dull today.

you knew something wasn’t right so you decided to go in. your son followed you close behind. you sat him on the couch and advised him not to move.

the house was dark. you slowly stepped down the hallway.

“ellie? honey?” you called out, to your surprise there was no reply. a shiver crept up your spine.

you walked until you were faced with her bedroom door. it was slightly open. so you knocked before you stepped inside.

“ellie?”

the door cracked open as you entered. you didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t that.

ellie was laying in her bed, fetal position. sobbing her brains out. you were surprised you didn’t hear her when you were walking down the hall.

she gasped for air as you rushed to her. you sit down and sit her up so her back is against the headboard.

“shh, you’re okay. i’m here.” those words, although comforting triggered even more tears to fall. she didn’t know what she was doing.

the girl screamed in your arms for what felt like forever and you just sat there and held her. you whispered sweet words into her ears and rubbed circles on her back.

eventually your son had run through the door. a little gasp leaving his lips at the sight of ellie.

“ellie are you okay!?” he practically screamed in her face. you took your free hand and tried to shove him out the door.

ellie’s loud cries turned into soft sniffles as he wouldn’t leave. your son practically jumped onto her to try and make her feel better. your heart drops but ellie just laughs and pulls him into a deep hug.

ellie looks to you as your son babbles absolute nonsense into her shoulder.

“i’m really sorr-“ she starts, but you instantly cut her off.

“absolutely none of that.” you say, in your mom voice. her eyes widen at your tone.

“can you stay with els while i make a quick phone call?” you ask your son. he stands up tall. “yes!” he nods as if he were superman. you and ellie both laugh.

ellie knew exactly what put her in that position. her entire day was fucked from the beginning.

she should've called out of work when she woke up from a dream nightmare about joel.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream while doing her morning routine, or skating to work. which ended with her on the ground and her board in half.

if that wasn’t enough, while she was on her shift her ex walks in.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” she whisper-yells as she watches the black haired, tattoo ridden girl takes a seat. with a new girl.

there was no way in hell she was going to serve them. she couldn’t ask dina, her table kept sending back the food. ellie was ready to go over there and rip them a new one. she refrained.

jesse couldn’t, obviously. she wasn’t going to ask sam. she looked like she was also on the verge of tears. i guess everyone’s having a shitty day. she thought to herself as she walked over to cats table. except you.

“ellie! hey!” cat smiled, she wasn’t happy to see ellie, it was an evil smile. she was happy to terrorize ellie.

“i forgot you worked here!” she continues, earning an eye roll from ellie. sure you did, bitch.

ellie keeps it short and sweet. oh how badly she wanted to ask if this was her new girlfriend. but she didn’t.

“what can i get for you?” she asks, she didn’t even bother plastering a fake smile on her face.

cat and her whatever she is tell ellie there orders and she’s out of there. she doesn’t even give out her scripted response of.

“great choices! that’ll be right out for you!”

she just leaves.

when ellie returns with the two plates the pair look to be in deep conversation.

perfect ellie thought. she could just put down the food and get the fuck out of there-

“so how’s joel?!” cat asks, her lips pursed and her hands intertwined underneath her chin. ellie takes a deep breath. she should’ve docked cat in the face. she didn’t.

the fucking nerve that this bitch has.

ellie doesn’t reply. she turns around and speed walks back to the kitchen where she breaks down for the first time that day. dina ended up finding her and bringing her home early.

to top off her picture perfect fucking day. ellie gets home and finds a new email from her prof. she quickly skims through. as soon as she read the words “cost” and a four digit number, she was done.

her wobbly legs about to give out underneath her as she lays down on her bed. she takes a few deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

she didn’t even hear you come in. but soon enough you were rubbing her back and telling her that it was going to be okay.

she couldn’t help but cry more because the last person to comfort her like that was him.

eventually you calmed her down. you left for a few minutes and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers.

“take these, your head must be killing you.” you sit down next to her and rub her back as she throws the pills back.

god. ellie felt like such a child.

“good girl.” you whisper as she takes a few more deep breaths. eventually calming completely. the comment didn’t pass hee though. her cheeks (among other things.) were suddenly hot and sticky from tears.

she turned to make eye contact with you, her eyes blood shot. you wondered how long she had been crying for.

the first words that left ellie’s mouth were simple. “did you still want that ice cream, lil man?” your son jumped up and down before grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the kitchen.

ellie had sat him down with a kind portion of chocolate ice cream before she walked up to you.

“hes more than welcome to sleep here tonight. if you don’t feel like picking him up.” she clarifies. her hands on her hips.

“oh ellie, i called out of work. we’re both staying.” ellie’s jaw drops. she instantly starts shaking her head in denial.

“no no you didn’t need to do that trust me, i’m really fine-” you pull her in for a hug to shut her up. you hold her tightly as she sighs into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry.” she whispers. you could only imagine how embarrassed she must’ve been.

“don’t be. you’re human.” you reassure her. you wanted to cry now too. you knew she was going through a bit of money trouble but how broken was this girl?

that night after your son went to bed you listened to ellie rant about her life for hours.

for the most part she held back tears but when she brought up joel you could tell it was hard.

you didn’t pry, or ask questions. you just listened. you listened to the good and the bad.

you two laughed when she told you about when she kissed her best friend riley, and then cried when she told you that riley had moved to canada and that they haven’t talked since.

you had told ellie about how you discovered you were a lesbian during your marriage.

you were bruh shocked to find your now ex-husband very cool with it.

she found out that you guys shared custody and he owned a house in a different part of the city. ellie was a bit envious of your seemingly normal life. you didn’t have to worry about money. atleast, not as much as she did.

you were nodding along as ellie told you about joel. joel had fostered ellie since she was twelve, he adopted her officially when she was sixteen.

she told you how he taught her the guitar, and let her get a tattoo before she turned eighteen.

ellie and joel’s relationship was rocky before he passed. ellie was going through that age where she needed a mother when she started acting out.

“i was always angry.” she confessed. “i would say the cruelest things to him and he would just,” she paused, looking for the right word. “he just took it.”

you frowned at this.

if you had known about any of this you would have never thrown your kid at her for half the week.

among the bad, you also learned a few interesting things about ellie.

she really liked to cook, and she was fucking good at it. you discovered that when she pulled out leftover pasta and served it to you like you were a member of the royal family.

eventually it was your turn to talk her ear off. however, there wasn’t much to tell, you thought.

“uhm- my favorite movie is tangled.” you laughed. ellie blew a raspberry.

“oh c’mon mama, you didn’t have like - a crazy childhood?” she asked. mama, huh?

you shrugged and spoke “not much to tell.” ellie rolls her eyes.

“alrighty then.” she ponders for a moment before speaking “you wanna watch a movie?” she asked, smiling like a fox. you felt your core tighten.

you accepted her offer and she reached out and helped you off her bar stool.

“what a gentle woman.”

“so i’ve been told.”

you and ellie didn’t settle on a movie. she sat you down and told you that you were watching tangled.

you put your hands up in defense. “if you insist.”

“i do insist.” she lays a soft pink blanket over the two of you as the movie begins.

“didn't picture you as much of a pink girl.” you state, covering your arms up with the blanket.

“m’ not, it’s just for you.” she says, her eyes only leaving the television to meet your own.

“just for me?” you ask, putting a hand over your chest in flattery.

“mhm” she replies with a wink and turns her focus back to the tv. it was your turn to feel flustered at her actions. she was quite the flirt apparently.

rapunzel was currently interrogating eugene when you turned to ellie.

“this is also his favorite movie.” ellie smiled at the fact. “is it really?” she laughed. not a condescending laugh, but more of a ‘that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard’ laugh.

“it is! he loves it so much, it’s adorable.” you tell her.

“you’re adorable” ellie accidentally admits. her face flushing when she’s noticed what she said.

she’s about to profusely apologize and possibly crawl in a hole and die when you giggle.

“i could say the same about you.” you whisper, shifting your body a little closer to her own. you were already close, but now your thighs were touching.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still on the screen. you burn holes in the side of her face. she doesn’t budge.

“ellie?” you whisper, you see her swallow before turning to look at you.

“y-yeah?” her pupils had dilated just a bit and you swore her freckles were more prominent. maybe you were a bit too close-

“you’re very pretty.” you tell her, your eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. then back to her eyes again.

ellie didn’t respond, instead she smirked and licked her lips. “yeah, you think so?” she asks, mostly rhetorically but you answer anyway. “i know so.”

ellie’s lips are dangerously close to your own when she slips her hand under your chin.

“i think you’re the prettiest.” she whispers. you almost didn’t hear her.

you're closing the gap between you two when you hear your sons sleepy voice come out of nowhere. you and ellie both quickly pull away from each other and she clears her throat.

“‘punzel!” he cheers, one of his pant legs riding up his leg, his hair all frizzled. you both light-heartedly laugh at the boys appearance.

“c’mere, baby.” you bring your arms out from underneath the blanket. open for him to crawl into. he obliged and crakes into your lap. you couldn’t even be mad at him for being up so late at this point.

ellie reached up and strokes his hair gently.

fucking cockblock

[whispers-of-gallifrey]

Side of my brain panicking about the future vs side of my brain panicking about not living to see the future fight!

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

.

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i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

[helliontherapscallion]

Anon who’s dog had a seizure. I wanted to be able to give a positive update, but I won’t be able to. I was woken up by a call at around 1:30am from my mom and the first thing she said was “[my dogs name] died”

I don’t know all the details, I was in a full fledge panic attack and was overcome with despair when it was either explained to me or I overheard (frankly, I don’t remember) but apparently at some point either last night or veryyyyy early this morning my mom let the dog out to use the restroom, and he collapsed again similarly to how he did two days ago. My mom rushed him to the emergency vet (a thirty minute drive) but he didn’t even make it there.

I think I was dry heaving at some point because my panic was so bad. I ended up going to the vet with my dad so I could say goodbye (he had before my mom left with the dog) and ngl, going with him did not help in the slightest. My dad has NPD and he kept making the situation about himself and I stg I was ready to throw myself out the car window in the middle of the freeway and walk the rest of the way there OOP—

I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to because of Covid, but we were allowed to all head into the vet and hold him and give proper goodbyes before they took him to be cremated (they have a partnership with some place that does all that jazz). It was rough. He’s a small dog, only 18 pounds, but just holding him felt so different. There was no resistance when I picked him up (I’m not his favorite person lol, so he’d always deadpan and shuffle away a little from me before giving in whenever i’d make grabby hands hahaha) and it was just rough.

A year and a half ago my old bird passed away in that same emergency vet, so I just felt like I was suffocating the whole time. It was basically history repeating itself and I had a ✨mental breakdown✨ while cradling the pooch. My mom almost had to drag me out 2.5 hours later because I didn’t want to leave him. I tried to be strong, he was her dog in the end and they had an unbreakable bond. I should’ve been the one comforting her, not the other way around. I totally failed lol.

Thank god I was able to go home with my mom and not my dad. I wanted to be the one to drive home so she could rest, but I didn’t have the energy to protest when I saw she was already in the drivers seat.

We’ve had him since he was a few months old. I was in first grade at the time, and despite us having a very rocky start (young me didn’t like all the attention he received bc it used to be mine) he was my lil buddy and I would have done anything for him. I was looking forward to taking my senior and graduation pictures with him soon, but it seems like that won’t be happening. I just wish I did more with him.

Sorry for rambling and being so depressing! I haven’t gotten much sleep over the past two nights so I’m really out of it.

If it’s not too much to ask for, could I have a part ii of my previous request but have it involving what I wrote above? Asdfghjkl my depressed ass needs comfort and all of my friends are in school LOL. (Thank god I was called off from school this time) Plus, I don’t wanna make my mom feel worse by adding my grief on top of her own (I hope that made sense)

Part 1

(A/N): anon, I’m so sorry to hear about your dog. From what you sent me about him, he sounded like an absolute delight to be around and a very good boy. You deserve to grieve too, even if you don’t think you should. Grieving is healthy and it’s something that shouldn’t be ignored. Everyone grieves differently, so maybe you and your mom could reminisce on the good times with him? Only if you both feel comfortable doing so of course. Please get some sleep, drink plenty of water, and eat some food if you haven’t already. My DMs are always open if you ever want to talk <3

Warnings: death of a dog and bird (mentioned), panic attacks, NPD parent mention

You were jolted awake by a loud ring from your phone laying on your nightstand. It was the ringtone you specifically set for your mom. Blinking deliriously, you answered with a raspy, “mom?”

You were only met with her choked sobs on the other end. This woke you up completely as you turned on a lamp and sat up fully in your bed, “mom what’s wrong?”

“(Dog name)...” She was unable to say your dog's name before she broke into more harsh sobbing. Worry and fear pricked your gut at the mention of your dog’s name. “What about (dog name)? What’s going on?”

“He d-died, (y/n). He isn’t suffering anymore.” You felt as if ice cold water was poured onto you as you sat staring at the wall in shock. Faintly you heard your mom telling you how it happened, but you didn’t register her words. The words that came out of your mother’s mouth were nearly incomprehensible anyways due to her distress. You didn’t know when she hung up, but the next time you looked at the phone screen your homescreen met you: a picture of you, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy at an amusement park. 

Your panic attack had escalated to you dry heaving over the toilet after puking up your dinner. You felt like you were suffocating as you remembered the techniques Techno used a few days prior. You stumbled up from a crouch and scrambled over to the sink. Your hands could barely grab the faucet and turn it on as you lost most of your sense of spatial awareness and everything you touched felt distant, like every single synapse in your body was both simultaneously working in overdrive and failing at the same time. The water was as cold as it was going to get, so you plunged your hands into the liquid and felt your body jolt at the temperature. After a while, your hands turned numb after regaining some senses back so you shakily cupped your hands under the faucet and gathered water into your hands. You splashed it at your face and felt yourself becoming more grounded as time passed.

By the time you left the bathroom, your dad gathered you into the car and started to drive you to the emergency vet. The entire time he was ranting about how you needed to pull yourself together because the dog was closer to him than to you. That definitely did not help in any way, it made you want to jump out of the car and walk the rest of the way to the vet. It would be better than having someone constantly belittling you for grieving. The ride was hell, but you persevered for (dog name). You needed to say goodbye to him.

When you left the car and walked into the building, it felt as if you were walking through the nine rings of hell with blazing infernos licking at your skin with every step. Dread and despair filled and overwhelmed you with every step. 

When a nurse escorted you to the room, she offered you her condolences and left you to say goodbye. With wide eyes, you slowly walked over to your mom and saw the motionless bundle of fur in her hands. It looked like he was sleeping, but you knew better. She looked at you with so much heartbreak and sadness as tears slipped down her cheeks that you remembered that he was her dog in the end and they’ve always had an unbreakable bond. You needed to be strong for her.

Your stony facade broke the second your mom handed you (dog name). He was cold and stiff as he laid unmoving in your arms, not even trying to wiggle out of your embrace like he always did. You were never his favorite person. He felt so… different. So wrong. 

Time passed around you as you held him and cried into his fur. This situation was very similar to your previous one that happened about a year and a half ago when your bird passed away and that was what finally sent you over the edge. Before you knew it, your mom was dragging you out of the building so he could get cremated. Your dad had long since gone home so he could get ready for work, so that left you to ride home with your mom. Not that you were complaining, it was certainly better than riding home with your dad. You just wished that you could drive so she could get some rest. 

By time you got home, it was about the same time you would leave for school. As you were driving down your neighborhood, you saw a very familiar car pass you. It was Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy’s car. They were probably going to school. You kept your head down and stared intensely at your tightly clasped hands. 

The second the car was in park in your driveway, you made a beeline for your room. For the rest of the day, you hid underneath your covers and ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand. You spent that time alone having a panic attack. This was your longest and most intense one yet, by the time it finally calmed down it was 10:30 at night. 

You smacked your dry lips together and feel absolutely drained. The buzzing still wouldn’t let up, so you reached out with a shaky hand and opened your phone. You had at least eighty combined missed texts from Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno. 

Tuesday, Innit?

Yo, the fuck’s goin on? 

Why the hell did you ignore us when we passed you???

Music man take me by the hand lead me to the land

Ignore that dumbass

What’s going on? You weren’t at school today

(Y/n)?

Technology Sword

You don’t have to tell us what happened if you’re not comfortable

Just tell us if you’re okay

That was only the start of the messages in the group chat. Granted it was mostly Tommy spamming your name and Wilbur and Techno trying to get him to chill out, but some of the messages managed to calm the swirling panic inside of you slightly. Your phone buzzed as you got another text. This time, it was an individual one from Technoblade.

Technology Sword

Look out your window, grab your notebook

You raised your eyebrows slightly as you read the message. Your window was right across from Technoblade’s, so when you saw Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” music video and showed it to Techno, you both decided that this would be your primary communication before you eventually got phones. It wasted a ton of paper, but you both felt like the main characters in a story so you kept doing it. You hadn’t done this since you got your phone and he got his. 

After you grabbed your spare notebook and a sharpie, you sat up in your bed and turned on your lamp. When you opened your curtains, you saw Techno smiling at you before he grabbed his notebook and wrote ‘hello’. 

You uncapped your marker, wrote ‘hi’, and shakily raised it to him. You saw him frown at your shakiness, he wrote ‘you okay?’

You stared at your paper for a bit contemplating whether or not you should tell him the truth. It was no use in lying to him, he knew you better than you knew yourself. After a moment, you wrote ‘no’.

You watched as he frowned and his eyebrows crinkled together in an upwards slant. ‘Discord?’

‘Sure’

You closed your curtains once more and opened up your PC. You could already see that Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy were in a separate voice channel. When you joined, you were startled by Tommy’s loud screaming and Wilbur’s hysterical laughter. 

“WILBUR YOU PRICK WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT I WORKED SO HARD GETTING THAT NETHERITE!” 

They were interrupted by a knock on Tommy’s door, “Tommy for the love of god it’s almost eleven at night kiddo. You can keep playing but please just keep it down.”

“SORRY DADZA!”

“Good job dumbass,” Wilbur chuckled.

“Hey (y/n), how’re you?” Techno’s somewhat pointed voice interrupted them. “(Y/N)! Please tell Wilbur that it’s not cool to borrow my armor and ‘accidentally’ fall into a lava lake.”

“It was an accident I swear!” Wilbur’s slight chuckle told you otherwise. “Wilbur,” your croaky and wobbly voice scolded him quietly, “not cool.”

The voice channel went silent as you logged into your shared minecraft server. You immediately spawned in the main lobby at spawn that you built the last time you logged in. You got to work gathering wood for walls you were going to build around the city. You saw Techno’s character run to you and help you gather wood. 

“...You good, (y/n)?” Tommy’s voice took on an uncharacteristic level of gentleness and concern. 

“‘M fine.” 

After a while of silence, you heard keyboards start to click again. Gradually conversation started back up and everything felt lighthearted once more. Though, you only talked when you were prompted to. After gathering the correct amount of wood, you and Techno went back to your house so you could craft some slabs. However as you approached the crafting table, you passed your bed. Next to your bed was your pet dog, barking slightly and looking at you with it’s pixel eyes. 

You could feel tears well up in your eyes at the sight of the pixelated dog. With a lump forming in your throat you struggled to breathe through it, your breaths coming out shuttering. You made quick work of muting yourself on Discord and started sobbing, the white dog staring at you sitting on top of your minecraft bed. This wasn’t a panic attack, you knew that. But you still felt overcome by a massive wave of grief. 

After a bit, you saw Techno’s character pop in front of you and start hitting the air. In chat, you saw that he private messaged you ‘vc 2’

You clicked off the main voice chat and was immediately greeted by Techno’s gentle voice. “What’s goin on buddy?” He was only met with your sobs, “deep breaths.”

“I’m not having a panic attack.”

“Still, deep breaths are good. Follow me.” With that, you two worked on getting your breathing back to normal and your tears slowly stopped. The entire time he was giving you praise and gentle reassurances whenever you tried to apologize to him. By the time you stopped crying you felt almost completely drained. 

“You okay now?” You hummed in confirmation, too tired to say anything. “Thank you Tech, I-I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing for feeling emotions. They’re one hundred percent valid… Do you feel comfortable telling me what happened?”

“I…” You trailed off as you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words out loud. “You don’t have to tell me, ya know.” Technoblade gently reminded you.

“I’ll PM it to you.” With that, you PMed him on minecraft explaining that your dog died this morning. “Fuck, I’m so sorry (y/n). I’m sure he isn’t suffering anymore. Did- did they ever find out what caused the seizures?”

“No, but… he had tons of health issues that I’m glad he doesn’t have to deal with anymore.” 

“Do you wanna talk about the good times with him with Wil and Tommy? If you don’t want to we can just talk about them here.”

“Let’s rejoin the main voice channel.”

“Hey (y/n), how’re you doing?” Wilbur gently asked you. “I’m alright, do- do you guys know what happened?” They both said yes. Technoblade must’ve told them what was happening.

“(Y/n) come outside. We built something for you.” Tommy was uncharastically gentle. 

When you moved to go outside of your minecraft house and Wilbur and Tommy led you to an empty spot in the city you four were building, you stopped in your tracks. In front of you built in various types of stone was a dog statue. In front of it stood a sign that read ‘in loving memory of (dog name)’.

“We aren’t done with it, but we can finish it in a couple of hours,” Wilbur mumbled into the microphone. 

“No, it’s perfect as it is. I don’t know what to say guys…”

“You don’t have to say anything, just know that we’re here for you.” Tommy said, his minecraft character walking over to your own and hitting you. 

“Oi, don’t hit them!” Techno punched him back and that started an all out brawl between the two. It quickly ended when Techno pulled out his fully enchanted netherite sword named ‘Orphan Obliterator’. 

“Get fucked, nerd.” You could just tell Tommy was holding in screaming at his brother. “I’m not the nerd here, you’re the one that reads for fun.” Tommy retorted. You heard shuffling on Techno’s end and him walking away from his PC. You were about to ask what was happening before you heard Tommy silently scream in terror. “Oh fuck he’s coming!” You assumed that Tommy ran to lock his door. Not long after that you heard a knock, “I just wanna talk.”

“No! You-”

“I just wanna talk.”

“Let him talk, Tommy!”

“NO WILBUR.”

You heard Philza’s groggy muffled voice, “it is midnight on a Friday. I don’t care what happens or who fights who, just do it in your own rooms and do it quietly.” 

“Sorry Dad,” you heard Techno’s retreating steps before he returned to his chair. “You’re a douche, Technoblade.” 

“I just wanted to talk, Tommy.” At that, Techno started beating Tommy to death once more. Each time he would kill Tommy, he would give Tommy a small head start before he would find him again. While this was happening, Wilbur PMed you ‘wanna prank Tommy and Techno? I’m thinking we put chickens under their houses’.

You looked at his player and nodded. You and Wilbur got to work luring chickens into holes you dug around their bases and burying them so that they were close enough to hear, but deep enough for it to be mildly inconvenient finding them. After you two were done with that, you met at spawn again.

“Techno stop killing Tommy. We want to tell stories about (dog name).” You saw Techno’s character sprint to your group and Tommy’s come up from a hole in the ground. “I was just about to find him.”

“Thank you! God, I hate it when he does that.”

The rest of the night you four spent reminiscing on the funny things that (dog name) did over the years. At some points you even laughed along with them. After you told them that you wanted to take your senior pictures with him, Techno offered to edit him into your photos. You didn’t know when you passed out but when you woke up, you had a crick in your neck and your PC monitor was off. You could hear three sets of soft snoring on the other end of the call. You felt yourself drifting off to their gentle breathing and smiled slightly; with them, everything felt better. 

[jiamour]

maybe, just maybe

pairing: hufflepuff!jeno x slytherin!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.2k

summary: jeno was perfect, maybe everyone was sick of his perfectness, maybe it wasn’t everyone, maybe it was just you. 

alternatively: you’re in love with jeno but it takes 2 rainstorms, months of longingly staring, a missing overweight cat, and a love potion to realize it

a/n: i wrote this two years ago so its not great and its bullet point which is annoying

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

oh look at perfect jeno, with his perfect marks, his perfect attitude, his perfect quidditch skills

his perfect hair, his perfect smile

his perfect face

maybe everyone was sick of his perfectness

maybe it wasn’t everyone

maybe it was just you

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

“do you see what jeno is doing over there? he literally volunteered to polish the fucking candelabras, there’s something off about him, something he’s hiding, no one can be that nice”

renjun threw a grape at your head forcing you to pry your eyes off of the innocent boy doing a good deed while eating a blueberry muffin across the dining hall to glower at your best friend

“but he is that nice” renjun huffed not up for another 10 hour tangent about how jeno was obviously wearing a wig ‘because no ones hair can naturally be that fluffy it’s literally not possible’

“well jeno can suck my dick”

“you’d like that wouldn’t you”

you gasped and chucked a half eaten scone towards him earning a few curious glances from some third years who quickly looked away when met by your glare

“why am i even friends with you?”

renjun had the audacity to roll his eyes “because i’m the only person who can stand to listen to you pine over jeno everyday without wanting to rip my ears off, and sometimes even i romanticize the idea”

“shut up it’s not pining, i hate him and i’m leaving, i refuse to sit here and be attacked” you said hurriedly, grabbing a peach in your hand, and scoffing before stomping dramatically out of the room

renjun snorted and continued eating

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno looked up from candelabra just in time to see you exit the dining hall flipping your hair back flamboyantly before stocking off down the corridor

he smiled to himself

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you rubbed your eyes as you left the slytherin common room to begin your nightly patrol as prefect

(jeno was a prefect as well, of fucking course he was (this didn’t bother you at all (okay it did (a lot))))

the walk around the halls was always calm and relaxing

except when you saw that annoying ghost peeves

you hated peeves almost as much as jeno

key word almost

you took a step around the corner of the hall and that’s when it hit you

no like literally hit you

someone had actually hit you

you stumbled backwards in shock, lighting up your wand quickly to see which annoying brat was out of bed despite the paintings complaints

what you saw definitely wasn’t AN annoying brat

it was THE annoying brat

“jeno?”

jeno was standing there, wide eyed, in his slightly over sized pale beige striped pajamas, with a little bit of mint toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, in pure panic

“oh my gosh! i’m so sorry! are you okay?” jeno was almost yelling looking like he was about to cry

you shushed him (naturally)

“i’m fine don’t worry i’m okay” your voice was hushed and way softer than usual almost getting caught in your throat

like you were caught in his pretty eyes

what?

ignore that

he heaved a sigh of relief but his shoulders remained tense

he looked around your shoulder and whenever he spoke it was as if he wasn’t even looking at you

“umm jeno?”

he only hummed

“are you okay?”

“no”

that certainly was not the answer you had expected

“what wrong?” you didn’t know why you were asking this, why you cared.

you hated him

“i-my cat-“ he stumbled over his words almost cutely

“i lost my cat have you seen a cat?” he asked his voice full of desperation

he squat down holding his hand about 30cm off the ground “shes white with gray spots and umm about this tall”

he moved his hands apart as if he was holding a large book “and she’s about this wide, i know she’s a little pudgy- okay a lot pudgy, but i love her a lot okay!”

if jeno wasn’t so panicked you would have laughed

“i haven’t seen her sorry” you told him and the look on his face made your heart break

he stood up looking down at his feet “that’s okay she’s a strong cat i’m sure she can surv-“

“but i can help you look for her” you cut him off words surprising both him and yourself

“WOULD YOU REALLY” jeno spoke overjoyed earning multiple shushes from the paintings

then he pulled you into a suffocating bear hug muttering thank you over and over again

stupid jeno and his stupid perfect warm hugs

when he let you go all you could do was stand there in shock he noticed your expression and blushed

which was awful by the way

clearly embarrassed he put a hand on the back of his neck and looked down again “sorry that was a bit weird wasn’t it?”

yes very

do it again

“only a little” you laughed quietly and his eyes shone bright as he laughed with you

it took about 30 minutes to find his cat

of course his stupid fat cat couldn’t stay hidden for longer

how inconsiderate

when jeno saw his cat (who’s name turned out to be ‘cuddles, because that totally wasn’t the cutest this ever) he squealed and the cat came running towards you both rubbing it’s head against jeno’s leg

you didn’t know cats were capable of this much affection

but of course perfect jeno was the exception

he just had to be a fucking cat whisperer didn’t he

“you should get back to bed it’s not your shift anyways, you need sleep” your words broke him out of his cat trance

he sighed looking almost sad

but why would he look sad?

he had no reason to be sad

who made jeno sad?

“this was fun” he said with his annoyingly perfect voice

you said nothing only gave him a small smile

cause that’s all he deserved

okay he deserved more

shut up

“i guess i’ll be going then goodnight yn”

you hated how perfect your name sounded coming from his lips

you watched as he walked off making his way back to the hufflepuff common room

“goodnight” 

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“ugh i hate him so much renjun i didn’t get to sleep because of him and his stupid fat cat”

“you were on duty you didn’t get to sleep anyways”

“shut up”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

the day was beautiful

the birds were singing, the wind lightly blew the grass around where you and renjun were sitting, and the coast was jeno clear

wait false alarm

there he was standing at the outskirts of the forest feeding the baby animals like the fucking saint he was

“the day is no longer beautiful”

renjun laughed

shit you said that out loud didn’t you

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

the next time you saw jeno (aka the 12th time that week (not including class) not that you were counting or anything) you were both in the library

he sat at a table surrounded by friends his nose scrunching occasionally whenever he read something he didn’t quite understand

you watched as he delicately flipped the pages of the old book

god you really wished you were a book right now

wait

what the fuck

no

you hadn’t realized you were staring until renjun waved a textbook in front of your face snapping your attention back to him

“hello earth to yn” renjun wanted to yell but it was a library and he had manners “you going to help me with this project or keep staring at mr.perfect?”

“i wasn’t staring”

“okay so now we’re out here telling blatant lies, okay hun, i see how it is” as he spoke your eyes began to drift back over to the table where jeno sat and renjun was not having it

snap snap snap bitch renjun's hand was snapping right in front your face and you were afraid he was going to accidentally (not so accidentally) hit you

“still not staring” you muttered “why would i stare at someone i hate?”

“kill me now”

you decided to actually work before renjun went crazy

also you didn’t want perfect jeno to make you fail

you’d never live it down

you and renjun finished up your research a few hours later to both of your relief

you gathered up all of your stuff to go as renjun put the books back

you looked over at where jeno sat to see if he was still there

because you were annoyed that he was

that’s why you were checking

no other reason

you were surprised to see him sitting there looking right back at you

he smiled his perfect smile and waved

you bit your lip and gave him a shy wave back not knowing what else to do

you turned away quickly to search for renjun who had probably already left without you, hearing the laughter of jeno's friends behind you

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you found yourself at a quidditch match between hufflepuff and ravenclaw

it was the first time you’d been to a quidditch match since your second year and you decided to go now because renjun wanted to be there

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

renjun did not want to be there

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

before you had entered the stands to sit in a crowd of screaming people there was a tap on your shoulder

you turned around quickly ready to fight who you thought was renjun for being late

it wasn’t renjun

jeno stood there dressed in his quidditch uniform slightly sweaty from practice beforehand

(and god was it hot)

because of course he was hot because he was stupid mr.perfect who could even make sweating look good

you were livid

jeno smiled at you

you couldn’t help but smile back

“i saw you walking over so i decided to come say hi if that’s okay” jeno spoke uncertain but his voice remained bright

“it’s okay” you said quietly “hi”

“i’ve never seen you at a match before” jeno inquired and something bubbled in your chest

“i haven’t been to one in a while i came because renjun wanted too” you said shyly fiddling with your sleeve

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

renjun did not want too

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“i don’t see renjun?” jeno laughed

just as the word ‘renjun’ came out of his mouth the boy himself came around the corner beginning to yell a loud “YOUR KING HAS ARRIVED” before noticing jeno with you

renjun backed the fuck out of there

“well i guess now i do see a renjun” you laughed at that and jeno's smile traveled to his eyes

when you didn’t say anything jeno spoke up again “so i noticed you’re not wearing anything yellow. how can you cheer me on without wearing any yellow?”

you were flustered “i um-“

“WAIT UNLESS-“ jeno gasped dramatically placing a hand over his heart “are you not cheering for me?”

you couldn’t help but giggle “of course i’m cheering for you”

how could you not

he was mr.perfect after all

“well then here” jeno said pulling a yellow scarf from out of his uniform pocket “wear it for me okay? i have to go now before couch gets angry”

he placed scarf around your neck and looked at you smiling “there. i’ll see you later yn”

then he left

and stupid perfect jeno had bested you again

how dare he make you wear his soft perfect scarf

he must know how much this hurt your pride

renjun was going to have a field day

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“yn stop playing with his scarf and look at the game”

“no i hate quidditch”

“i can see him looking at you right now and he looks sad you’re not watching”

“what really?” you looked up quick

jeno was not looking

at least not anymore

renjun laughed

“i hate him” you mumbled

“and you” you added for good measure

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you were exhausted

your head was laid on the dining hall table and you were ready to sleep for eternity

“did you even sleep at all last night? jesus yn, you look awful” renjun’s voice was teasing but laced in concern

“thanms” you mumbled lifting your head attempting to sarcastically thank him but not having the energy

“wow you’re a mess” he laughed ruffling your already messy hair, trying to make it worse

“ugh i hate you” you grumbled just when a soft hand was placed on your shoulder

“you hate me?” the voice behind you laughed brightly

oh god you knew that voice

why did he have energy this early

showing off how he was superior again

you hated it

“jeno” you said as you turned to smile at him

“you didn’t answer my question” he teased sitting down beside you

uninvited you may add

okay maybe you tapped the seat for him to sit but only a little

“of course i don’t hate you” renjun rolled his eyes so hard you were surprised he didn’t roll with them

“well that’s good because i brought you some coffee” he said making a car sound as he moved the coffee across the table towards you “you looked tired and i drink this every day so i thought you’d like it”

it’s like he wanted you to hate him

how dare he be so nice

making you feel special

doing good deeds

playing with your emotions

being too fucking perfect

renjun saw you glare at the cup and had to leave because of how hard he was laughing

jeno asked if renjun was okay and you just waved him off

“thank you” you hummed and reached for the cup

the coffee tasted like caramel and had the perfect amount of milk and the perfect amount of sugar

you loved it

and you hated that

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“hey man are you okay? you just started wheezing out of nowhere, yn says you’re fine but i just wanted to be sure” jeno asked the next time he saw renjun in the hall

renjun died again

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you were taking a walk around the school grounds to clear your mind of stress from upcoming assignments

you got lost in thought as flitterby moths flew around and landed on flowers in front of you

that was at least until a loud perfect voice came from over the hill calling your name

you moved your eyes from the moths who hadn’t even been startled by the sudden sound to where the voice had come from and surely enough there was jeno walking towards you

you waved to him and he smiled back

“what are you up t-“ he stopped talking when he saw you watch the moths flutter up into the sky and fly back into the forest

jeno laughed at your pout making you pout more

“who would have thought that the tough slytherin prefect spends her time watching butterflies” jeno teased his hand brushing against yours because of how close he was standing

“they were moths” you corrected

you smiled proudly

for once he wasn’t perfect

“so are you saying you are against the idea of watching butterflies?” he bumped your shoulder playfully

“i haven’t seen many around so i guess it would be nice to see them as well” you sighed truthfully and jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you

he opened his mouth to speak and that’s when thunder struck

“oh god no please say there’s no-“ before you could finish your sentence it started pouring, “rain”

jeno looked at you and lifted his robe over both of your heads with left arm and grabbed your hand with his right before he started running, pulling you with him towards the castle

you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this situation was

you were running hand in hand with the boy you hated

with mr.perfect himself

who by the way still looked perfect even when sopping wet with his hair sticking to his face

and that was just offensive

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno didn’t want to let go of your hand even when you had made it back to the castle

so he didn’t

he brought his robe down which happened to be no help anyways

and looked over to see you smiling beside him

how someone could look so perfect while drenched in rain he would never understand

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno walked you back to the slytherin common room

because he was too nice for his own good

his hand was still holding yours

obviously to humiliate you why else

if renjun saw you like this he’d never let it go

you really hoped renjun wasn’t around

but of course he was

you opened the door to the dungeons and there he was

standing right there

he looked at you

then he looked at you hands

then he looked at jeno

back to you

back to your hands

instant wheezing

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“is your friend okay? i can ask madam pomfrey if she has an inhaler for him” jeno asked the next day

now you were wheezing

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. it causes a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker and should not be used under any circumstances” the potions teacher explained at the beginning of the lesson

if it shouldn’t be used then why teach us, you wanted to groan

there was a 500% chance someone was going to try to make someone fall for them like an idiot

the teacher continued on and the curiosity of many students grew “it is said that it smells different to each person, based on what we are attracted to.”

okay maybe that’s kind of cool

and you kind of wanted to know what you were attracted to

well you did know

kind of

“for example i smell cinnamon buns and butterscotch scented candles as well as the ocean” she droned on lazily her eyes closing slightly taking in the scent before she snapped out of it and looked back at the class

“would anyone like to give it a try” the teacher ask and half the hands in the room shot up

including yours

“yn how about you” the teacher said and you got out of your seat to stand in front of the potion

you leaned in to get a waft of the potion and the first thing you smelt was blueberry muffins

“tell everyone what you smell dear” the teacher insists

“umm blueberry muffins, caramel coffee, mint toothpaste, umm-“ you listed getting distracted by the smell

“continue on” the teacher urged smiling

-“the forest, sweat” you said slightly embarrassed “old library books, cats?”

the class laughed at that and you did too

“and umm the rain, should i continue on or-“ you blushed

“no no that’s enough thank you for assisting” the teacher patted you on the back and sent you back to your seat

where believe it or not

renjun was laughing

“what?” you asked curious wondering what you had done now

“i can’t believe you don’t know” renjun took a large breath trying to regain himself “why are you like this?”

“like what?” you were so confused and renjun wasn’t any help

you looked around the room to see if anyone else knew what the fuck was going on and there he was

jeno staring right at you eyes wide

and you had no idea why

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

the next day you watched as jeno grabbed his usual blueberry muffin and coffee before walking over to you and renjun

he had been doing this for about a week

but today

it felt so awkward

like jeno and renjun knew something that you didn’t

and you hated that

but jeno’s perfect soft smile as he handed you his caramel coffee so you could take a sip made all the negativity go away

wait

caramel coffee

blueberry muffin

it had to be a coincidence

yeah that’s all it was

one big coincidence

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno seemed to be bringing you places more often

it was strange

really strange

one day he had dragged you out to the forest with him to feed the animals

which would have been nice if he hadn’t kept looking at you expectedly the whole time

when you didn’t say anything he just sighed and walked away sadly

you hated making mr.perfect sad

the next day jeno took you into the library

where you read about love potions

from old books

and nothing

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno was going insane 

he was trying everything 

he couldn’t tell if you were purposely doing this or if you were actually this oblivious 

he guessed it was the latter because you may be cute but you definitely weren’t an actor

he learned that the hard way

resulting in you both losing 20 house points

he would rather not get into that

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

jeno invited you to his quidditch match

and you couldn’t say no, no matter how much you disliked the sport

because he has asked you with his perfect smile and his perfect pleading eyes

and no one could say no to that

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

he gave you his scarf again and renjun imploded

or maybe that was you

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

after the match which you think he won but you weren’t entirely certain jeno ran up to you pulling you into a tight hug

okay so he probably won

it was against slytherin but you know, who cares about house spirit when mr.perfect wants you to root for him

jeno invited you to come back to the hufflepuff common room with him to celebrate

and no one in their right mind would decline

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

his common room was definitely a lot cozier than yours you thought as you sat on the couch by the fire and pet his cat

pet his CAT

while you waiting for him to get out of the shower

although it should feel awkward being in a unknown place surrounded by unknown people, it didn’t

everyone was so welcoming and friendly

it felt so natural

jeno returned in fresh clothes with slightly damp hair that hung cutely in his face and mint toothpaste in the corner of his mouth

this felt familiar

jeno sat beside you putting his arm along the back of the couch and folding his legs on the seat to look at you

you stuck your hand out reaching towards his face “you have a little- there you go” you said as you wiped the little bit of toothpaste away

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

jeno was pretty sure he died then and there

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

jeno was done, he couldn’t take this anymore, everyday he asked you to go on a walk with him hoping

dreaming

that it would rain and you would maybe realize

he was ready to curse the fucking sky

but god decided to send him a gift instead

and it rained

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“oh my god” you groaned trying to put your hand over your head to stop the rain from hitting you “i can’t believe this happened again”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

please realize please realize please realize

“what are you doing? why do you look like you’re praying?”

that was it

jeno grabbed your hand and pulled you into him

“can i kiss you” he asked looking down at your lips

you just nodded

so he did

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

what the fuck

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK your brain was yelling as you kissed jeno

in the rain you might add

wait

rain

blueberry muffins

coffee

cats

sweat

mint toothpaste

forests

old books

jeno

how had you not realized?

you were attracted to jeno

the potion

everything made sense

“oh my god” you said shocked against his lips he laughed and pulled apart so he could look into your wide eyes

“you- the potion- rain- oh my god” you were rambling and jeno kissing you again, a quick peck this time

“i can’t believe it took you this long to realize” jeno said and you groaned slightly embarrassed ducking your head into his chest to hide your face

“hey, hey, no don’t hide, i want to see you” he teased and pushed you back slightly so you were forced to look up at him

your eyes were locked together until his hand moved to cupped your cheek and he leaned in again

but then there was thunder

“we should um-“ you stepped back mumbling shyly “get out of the rain”

“good idea” jeno agreed looking down at his wet clothes that stuck to his body

this time you grabbed his hand

and you both ran

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

the hufflepuff common room was closer and you didn’t want to leave each others sides, not at the moment

not right now

when THAT had just happened

what jeno had been waiting months for

okay maybe what you were also waiting months for

you had changed into one of jeno’s spare perfect yellow hufflepuff sweaters

the both of you sat in front of the warm fire shivering

jeno had an arm around your shoulder holding you close

and he wouldn’t stop looking at you with a perfect smile

“wow” jeno sighed and you looked at him 

“what?” you asked with a small laugh

“i’ve just wanted this for so long”

“yeah”

“yeah me too”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

he was still perfect

but maybe

just maybe

you didn’t really hate him after all

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15

if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own

Chapter Fourteen

This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.

In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.

tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication

Word Count: 4K

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)

AARON

"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson

Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.

He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.

With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.

“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”

Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”

He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”

“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.

“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”

Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”

“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”

Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”

They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.

By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.

“He’s still asleep?”

He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.

“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”

He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.

“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.

He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”

“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”

“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”

Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”

Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.

“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.

Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.

Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.

Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.

“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.

After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.

“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”

Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.

Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.

Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.

Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.

He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”

To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.

“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.

Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”

“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”

Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.

“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”

Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”

At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.

“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.

Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”

“But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”

At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”

Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.

Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”

“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”

“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.

He smiles. “I mean it.”

“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Without a doubt.”

Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.

“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.

He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.

He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.

They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.

“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.

“What?”

“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”

She pouts. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”

He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.

They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.

Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.

When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.

“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”

Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.

Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”

Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.

“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”

Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.

“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”

“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”

Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.

“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”

“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”

Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.

“Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”

Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.

“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”

“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.

He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.

“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.

Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”

“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”

He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”

She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter Sixteen

Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @anxious-enby (add yourself to my taglist here!)

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

*TW: cutting, therapy, break down. a little longer then usual at 2500 words

The therapist greeted the couple as they walked in and sat down on the couch. “Thank you for allowing Natsu to sit in today, Lucy. I don’t want you to think of this as a couples counseling per se, because you’re still my primary client. But I feel that him being here to understand your struggles, as well as his, and being able to express them in a safe environment, will help in your healing process. And thank you Natsu for agreeing to this.”

He sat forward a bit, ready to engage. “Anything to help Lucy.”

“I’d like to start with your homework Lucy, has there been any progress in trying to write out your feelings? Remember, it’s okay if you’re still struggling with that, there’s no judgment here.”

“Not... really...” Lucy fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Every time I try to, I-I get too... I start to cry, and the panic rises— I fail at it every single damn time and that makes me feel even worse.”

“You’re not failing. Let’s reword that to struggling and recognize that simply making an attempt is the first step, a very important one to be proud of.”

“Maybe I was just kidding myself all along about writing. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t any good in the first place. It was all in my head.” Lucy could see the frown on Natsu’s face from her words, but that’s how she feels now. There was a time she thought she was a decent writer, maybe not publishing quality yet, but she truly enjoyed it regardless and now, a blank page is all she could muster.

“Natsu,” the therapist directs her question to the man. “It seems you’re unhappy with her statement. Would you say that Lucy’s a good writer? Honest answer.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I mean I’m no expert, but the stuff I’ve seen is pretty good. I definitely couldn’t pull them off.”

“Lucy would you call Natsu a liar?”

The blonde paused, annoyed and offended. She wanted to say yes, only because she didn’t want to agree, but then it wouldn’t be true. Natsu was giving his honest opinion and she couldn’t deny it. “No,” Lucy breathed out. “Look I get it. You’re trying to tell me it’s all in my head, right? It’s just the pain talking, and I’ll get better, and I’ll get back into writing just like before.” Anger had slowly begun to prickle the hairs on the back of her neck the longer she clung to the dissociation. “I-I’m not an idiot! I know this is all stupid shit in my brain! I just can’t stop it!”

“I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, let’s go back a step here. No one is saying you’re an idiot. On the contrary, you’re very intelligent. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be recognizing that it’s all in your head, and that recognition is how the healing starts. My role, today with Natsu’s help, is to bring that to the forefront. Bring it out into the open, because sometimes hearing it out loud has a different effect on how we process the information.”

“I don’t get it...”

The woman sat back in her chair in thought for a brief second. “When we think about things just in our head, versus saying it out loud, it triggers different parts of our brain. What studies have found is that talking out loud stimulates... rational... erm, reality I guess is a better term. It becomes more real to us.”

“Huh.” So, what, Lucy rolled her eyes at the suggestion. True or not, she didn’t want to agree, because her mind was still in such a strong state of denial. “I still don’t accept it. It sounds stupid.” Maybe it was just her annoyance talking, but the therapist was getting on her nerves. Lucy knew the woman was just trying to help, but her irrational side didn’t want to deal with any of this. The pain sucked, but so did the treatment. She just wanted to stay in her room, in the dark, away from prying eyes. Surprisingly to Lucy, the therapist didn’t even flinch and the gleam in the woman’s eyes almost looked sadistic in that moment.

“Lucy, I know you know it’s not stupid. That’s just your mind imagining the wrong things, which is why you need to talk about it out loud, so you can hear yourself and how wrong it all sounds.”

Ugh! She was so tired of being told what she is, what she should be thinking, and the condescending tone she wrongly assumed from the therapist triggered an explosion. All the anger she felt about herself was transferred to the therapist in an instant. “I’m wrong?!” Lucy jumped to her feet, her anger crackling through. “No shit! Lady, I’m fucked up!! You want me to talk? Fine! I hate this! I hate everything! It’s all falling the fuck apart and I feel like I’ve been tied to the damn train tracks! Everything I’ve worked so hard for is slipping away! Three years of college being washed down the drain! How the fuck do I catch up now?! I’m so behind! AARRRGHH!!! I-I don’t even wanna get out of bed anymore! I hate myself— hate what I’ve become a-and that makes me even more fucking depressed! And my friends...” Lucy dropped back onto the couch as her shaking hands flew up to cover her face and the dam of tears finally broke loose in a cascade down her cheeks. She cried long, and deep for several minutes, chest heaving and inconsolable.

In that moment, Natsu sat frozen, his eyes swinging back and forth to the therapist and his girlfriend unsure of what to do. Should he move to comfort Lucy? The therapists inaction seemed to suggest the answer was no. It made him furious, yet... she was the professional... before he could make a decision, Lucy finally uncovered her face and look dead at her therapist. Almost forgetting him all together.

“My friends, seeing the looks on their faces...” Lucy dug her fingers into the fabric of her pants in an effort to ground her unraveling mind. “It hurts so fucking much! I must be getting on Levy’s nerves, she didn’t sign up to be my nurse, a-and Natsu, he’ll surely get tired of a basket-case of a girlfriend. I can’t blame him if he left me, I’d leave me too. It’s all just falling apart—” Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “I can’t see a way out anymore.”

Seeing the whites of Lucy’s knuckles the harder she clenched onto her leg and seeing the heavy breathing similar to that night in the ambulance. Natsu feared that Lucy was heading towards a panic attack. Wanting to reassure her, Natsu reacted this time and reached up from his seat, quickly grabbing her arm to gain her attention. “Lucy, I’m not—.”

But Lucy screamed and yanked her arm back, face grimacing in pain. “Tsss—Owww!!”

“leavi—” Natsu pulled back immediately. “Oh, shit! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Did I grab you too hard?!” He didn’t think so, but based on her reaction, maybe he had.

“N-No,” she cradled her arm, turning to shield it from him. “You didn’t, I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise.” Lucy quickly brushed it off for fear of requiring an explanation. “Really. S-Sorry, I-I’m probably just too flustered.”

But that explanation didn’t satisfy Natsu. Lucy’s yelp was clearly pain related if buttressed by the fact she continued to hide it. “You’re lying to me,” he reached out, “I’m not mad, just please tell me the truth because it’s obvious there’s something wrong with your arm.”

“N-No, I’m not,” she tried to act like it was true. “See,” she waved it as if showing it was fine. “Nothing’s wrong...” till she accidentally hit it again and flinched, biting her lip just in time to stifle a scream. But she knew in an instant that she’d been caught.

His eyes and tone softened in an effort to lower her inhibitions. “Yes, there is.” Natsu took her arm and started to pull up on the sleeve of her sweater.

Lucy instinctively turned her head away. She didn’t want to see his reaction to the bandage around her arm. Even when he continued to speak, questioned what was underneath it, she answered in one worded responses without looking. But at his gasping sound, her eyes closed in shame. She could see what he saw all from behind her eyelids, all the horizontal cuts running across her left arm. The red, angry lines in varying stages of healing. She kept most of it grouped around the middle of her arm between the wrist and elbow crook. At first, she’d tried what that EMT had done, merely jabbing her arm with a pen or digging her nails into the skin. But it wasn’t enough, so she’d moved onto cutting. It had started out small, just a couple of lines were enough to silence the horrid voices in her head, but like a junky’s tolerance, Lucy had to keep cutting, more and more, deeper, just to feel the same numbing results.

“Is this what I think it is?” Natsu’s shaky voice questioned with moisture filling his eyes. “Oh, Lucy, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad.” Now he knew why she’d started wearing long sleeves even when the weather was warm.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t want anyone to know... but it was the only thing making the voices stop.”

Without another word, Natsu pulled a surprised Lucy into a tight hug, tears of his own spilling. “No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault this is happening to you. I should have dealt with Touka long ago. I should have protected you better. This is on me, but Lucy I’m never gonna let you go, I won’t ever leave you because of this. We’re gonna get through this together. I swear on my life, we’re gonna get through this together. Do you believe me?? Please, tell me you believe me?”

“I do...” she did. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait Lucy found most endearing, so how could her heart not accept his words? They sat there in an embrace while time stood still, and a small measure of relief fell over her. It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of hope, an ember, and one she hadn’t felt in a long time. This man who’d caged her on that train and captured her heart, she could easily pin all of her pain onto him, but he could also be her salvation. His strong arms wrapped around her broken frame made the scary world fall away, to remind her how much more she yearned to stay within it.

Once he felt Lucy’s body relax, Natsu pulled back, wiping away her tears as well as his own. “Is this the only area?” He gestured at her arm without judgment. And when she nodded, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now that the moment was waning, the therapist who’d been waiting patiently and observing spoke up. She offered the anxiety medications again to Lucy and with Natsu’s gentle coaxing, the blonde finally agreed to it. It couldn’t hurt right? If they didn’t work, she’ll just stop taking them. She didn’t want to see the anguish in Natsu’s eyes anymore, especially now that she realized how much he was internalizing and struggling alone with. He was in just as much pain as she was, so it was time they both do what they could to heal, together.

As they were about to leave, Natsu paused and questioned the doctor. “I have a question. I just realized, even though today was a big episode... Lucy didn’t have a panic attack. Why is that?”

The blonde looked at her boyfriend before her eyes landed on the therapist with an expectancy of an answer. She hadn’t realized that either. Shouldn’t her outburst have triggered one?

“I’m glad you asked,” the woman smiled. “Panic attacks are often triggered by suppression. When you’re trying to hold in your emotions, refusing to let it go, and not show it, but today Lucy let it out. She didn’t hold back so there was no need for her body to react physiologically.” She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Sometimes a good cry and scream goes a long way. Please remember that.”

It was quiet on the taxi ride back to Lucy’s apartment. Not an uncomfortable silence, but maybe just enough had been said in the hour long therapy session that they both still needed time to process it all. Despite her breakthrough, she knew it was still a long battle ahead. The poor coping skills she’d latched onto now needed to be reversed, and frankly she didn’t know if she could do it alone. Of course, she could ask Levy... and the woman did deserve to hear the truth going on... but Lucy really didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her best friend. Levy had done so much for her already and as much as she appreciated it, it also contributed to her emotional pain. She glanced down at her hand held so tightly by Natsu and wondered... no... The man was struggling as well, so to add hers into his mix, is that really fair? But by that same token, their pain was also a shared one. If there was anything to take away from the session is that perhaps it is together, they’ll better find the end of the rainbow.

Once they arrive at the building and get out of the taxi, Natsu started walking towards it. Lucy tugged back to stop him. “Lucy?”

“Before we go in...” her voice lowers, hesitancy brimming in her tone. “I have a question to ask.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I can’t—, don’t want to do this alone anymore. But I also don’t want to put that kind of burden on Levy.”

“Lucy,” he pulled her hand up, clasped between his palms to his lips where he kissed the fingers gently. “I will do whatever you need me to do.”

She sighed. “Can I move in with you? A-At least until I get control of the panic attacks and the... the thing?” Her eyes flit to her arm rather than say the words aloud. “I know this would intrude on Gray, but I would feel much safer.”

Natsu paused for a second in thought. “I don’t think Gray will mind. I certainly don’t.” He smiled. “We’ll be there for each other.”

“Are you sure? Because there’s still a few things I haven’t mentioned like nightmares. I-I don’t wanna freak you guys out.”

“A promise is a promise, and when I said I’ll do anything, I meant it. Will it be scary, probably, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m willing to do whatever I need to get us through this.”

Lucy’s eyes gloss over, but a tiny smile ticks up at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Natsu.”

He smiled back, “I’m the one who should be thankful.”

“For what?”

“For not dumping me. As much you’d worried, I’d leave you, I was deathly afraid you’d leave me. I brought this on us, so I wouldn’t blame you from running away.”

“Oh, Natsu.” This time a true smile finally graced Lucy’s face. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

more voiceless jaskier AU

https://bygodstillam.tumblr.com/post/613282643525697536/okay-so-i-have-written-800ish-words-ofApparently the middle of the night is when I write this. Though to be fair “the middle of the night” is also just when I’m awake right now.

Reminder that this is entirely self-indulgent, which means people will be giving in to their hearts even when in canon the almost certainly wouldn't. :)

Still pretty angsty, but we're starting to inch towards the soft comfort part of this h/c!

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

------------------

The second night after finding himself voiceless, Jaskier ate.

Geralt had tried, most of the day, to talk to fill the silences. He'd failed horribly, the silences were still long and painful, but the attempt was not lost on Jaskier, and it was enough to melt him out of the petrified, empty shock that had consumed him the night before. Their progress away from the lake had been in the opposite direction of Rinde, even though it was the closest place to go for news or supplies. Jaskier couldn't help but be glad - if he never saw that town or the lake again, he'd be grateful.

"If we keep making good time, we should reach the next village in three days or so," Geralt was saying as Jaskier picked at the dried venison stew, wishing he hadn't emptied his flask already days ago. Or that they didn't have to make good time, so he could put off carrying his lute as long as possible in the mornings and take it off (and carefully, so carefully, set it down a safe distance away from the fire) as soon as possible in the evenings.

There was a slight shift of movement in the corner of Jaskier's vision, where Geralt sat, and a subtle glance revealed that Geralt was failing to hide that he kept glancing over at Jaskier, not eating, with a concerned frown. Jaskier lifted the spoon and took a bite. It wasn't too bad, and... well, to be honest now that he'd forced himself to take a bite, he was pretty hungry. A few bites later and the frown had settled back into the usual one, directed into the fire.

Laying in his bedroll that night, Jaskier didn't cry, to his great relief. That wouldn't last, he could tell, but he stared up at the shadows of leaves and branches over the sky, the peek of stars between them in the breeze, and thought about what happened, and didn't cry.

He couldn't remember the entire course of events that led to the djinn's attack on his throat - he'd been a lot more drunk than he would like to admit, burned from being dumped by his most recent lady love, his attempts to flirt ignored by Geralt, and he just felt lonely. He remembered needling Geralt, who was clearly in a worse mood than usual, and doing so beyond what he normally would've. Prodding him until he lashed out, and then taking it too personally. It was fuzzy, but he remembered Geralt shouting that he just wanted a little peace, and then pain, and--

And Geralt's face, immediately panicked by what was happening. Whatever he'd been feeling, he hadn't wanted Jaskier hurt, or dying.

And really, when you thought about it, Jaskier had known, even drunk, that Geralt was exhausted and more volatile than usual. For one of his more obnoxiously annoying drunk idiot mistakes, the fact that he was still here, alive, was more than he'd generally hoped for throughout his adult life. He'd always sort of assumed one day he'd piss off the wrong person and die to that. He'd done it, but then that person had done their best to save him anyway, and succeeded. It was a second lease on life, even if the near-death had never been Geralt's intention.

Maybe that's how he could get through this, learn to live with this silence: by viewing it as a kind of gift.

The third night, Geralt was restless and grumpy. He still hadn't quite given up attempting to fill silences, but had clearly found it even harder than the day before. In desperation, he'd started singing some folk song, and Jaskier had gotten lightheaded and couldn't breathe, and it was stupid because other people singing shouldn't make him feel like he was being crushed to death by his own chest, and after he'd gotten back under control, sitting in the dirt of the road, Geralt had all but forced him to ride Roach the rest of the afternoon.

The whole thing had put Geralt off of speaking, apparently; either that or he was running out of whatever fuel he used to create speech at all, because to Jaskier's ear it sounded like he was forcing the words out with every ounce of willpower he had, when he spoke.

"I'll fix it," Geralt grumbled. Jaskier nodded in response, then shrugged. Oh, he was hoping beyond hope Geralt could find an answer, and soon, but he was still trying to cling to his thought from the night before, that this was the cost of a second chance. Not because of Geralt, nothing to do with Geralt, but because fate herself was trying to tell Jaskier not to be so much of an ass. Geralt frowned deeply at that response.

"It's important," he insisted. "I will fix it. It was my wish, it's my responsibility." And Jaskier knew he didn't mean it like that, like the only reason he cared was because he felt obligated, because you couldn't spend large chunks of over a decade with a man and fall in love with him and not be able to pick out when he truly cares about someone or something. Jaskier knew that Geralt cared, that was why he'd gone to find him in the first place, that day: if nothing else he was lonely and needed to be around someone who gave a shit.

It still felt like a knife twisting in his chest, and his lips twisted in a weak attempt at a smile and waved Geralt off. It wasn't very believable, but he didn't want Geralt to feel obligated.

"It's not fine," Geralt snapped, more or less accurately translating from Jaskier's vague gesturing. But to answer that no, it wasn't, but the idea of obligation made him feel ill? That no, it wasn't fine, but at least he was alive? Jaskier couldn't figure out how to explain that silently without writing, and the only paper he had was his journal. His songwriting journal, the most recent of many, half-full with notes and ideas and scraps of lyrics and the working drafts of his songs. No, he couldn't bring himself to use it for this. So instead he just spread his hands helplessly.

Geralt grumbled wordlessly and stood. "Stay here." He strode into the trees, and Jaskier was left sitting by the fire wondering if Geralt was going to just go scream into the trees or try to find a bear to wrestle with his bare hands or something. That could make a good song, the bear wrestling, but Jaskier shook his head to try to clear that thought from it. Maybe, if Geralt couldn't find some sort of magic that can undo this, he could write again one day anyway. But not yet.

Geralt came all but stomping back into the clearing after a few minutes and jerked his head for Jaskier to follow. Not having anything better to do, Jaskier went.

A few yards through the brush was another small clearing, not big enough for a camp, but with a large flat area of loose slightly damp earth, not so loose as to be sandy, that had clearly been brushed free of leaves and sticks. Jaskier frowned, and turned to ask-- no, to look confused at Geralt, but found a sturdy but narrow stick held out to him.

"Write," said Geralt. "If you need to."

Jaskier swallowed hard, fighting tears despite himself. Geralt's response to Jaskier being unable to communicate a clear thought was to find a way for him to express it, and if Jaskier hadn't already fallen in love with the witcher years ago, he would have now. He nodded and crouched, considering the space he had and the words he wanted to say.

Thought my mouth kill me 1 day, he wrote carefully in the dirt, cutting out words he didn't need, grimacing a bit at his mangling of language. It couldn't be helped, but it wasn't fun. Least not dead? Good.

"It wasn't your-- it was my fault," Geralt said, clearly frustrated. "I was an ass." And yes, it was technically Geralt's fault, in that it was his wish that caused this. If he wanted to, Jaskier could blame him. Part of him wanted to. Most of him thought Geralt wanted him to. But really, Jaskier couldn't find it in him to be angry at Geralt. Not when he saw Geralt's face when he couldn't breathe, heard the panic in his voice demanding someone tell him where to find a sorcerer to fix it.

Jaskier smoothed the earth, tamped it down a bit with his foot. Not intentional. He paused, then underlined it. He could faintly hear Geralt make a displeased noise, and added, Didn't know you had wishes.

There was a moment's pause, then Geralt said softly, "And yet, here we are."

Jaskier couldn't think of anything to say to that, not that he could fathom writing in the dirt, so he just reached over to pat Geralt's arm, in comfort or reassurance or forgiveness? He wasn't sure. Geralt just frowned deeper and sighed. Jaskier didn't like that frown. It was a sad frown, a guilty frown, one that made him think Geralt was internally flogging himself over something he hadn't tried or intended to do.

Not. Your. Fault. Jaskier wrote, after smoothing the ground again. Rather be alive. Other people maybe let me die. But not you. Better.

Geralt put his hand on Jaskier's, stilling his scrawling in the dirt before he can try to add more. "I'm still going to fix it," he said. There was a long pause as Geralt fell silent again, and Jaskier itched to write more, to fill the silence with even the idea of his words, but he could see more words trying to order themselves in Geralt's mouth, and he didn't want to spook Geralt into not saying them.

"I'm sorry, Jaskier," Geralt said, eventually, almost too soft to hear. He cleared his throat and continued a little louder. "You're not a pie with no filling. Not you, not your singing. I was... I wanted you to go away, stop telling me the truth about how I was avoiding the real problem." Jaskier knew, he did, that it had been a cruel barb meant to try to get him to storm off in a huff. But it had still hurt, and it still soothed some little wound in his heart to hear it. "When I was trying to save you," Geralt continued, "I kept thinking I couldn't let that be the last thing I said to you."

Jaskier couldn't help but laugh, though it was just a brief, silent huff of air and shake of his shoulders. The last thing he remembered Geralt saying to him that night was some nonsense about apple juice. He didn't point that out, even in writing, because really, that wouldn't have been much better, and also because he knew that wasn't what Geralt meant.

He couldn't let the last thing he'd said to Jaskier before they were in crisis mode, the last thing he'd said that he'd remember later, be something cruel.

Thanks, Jaskier wrote. Appreciate you tried.

"Wasn't good enough," Geralt rumbled under his breath, but he looked at least slightly less like he wanted to throw himself into a lake as penance, and Jaskier would take that. He smiled up at Geralt, weak but at least sincere, because it did mean a lot to him, that Geralt was that desperate to try to save him, and was this torn up by his failure to save all of him.

"Well," Geralt said, apparently uncomfortable with the implied forgiveness Jaskier kept offering, "do you need anything?"

A voice? Jaskier thought, his smile fading and his shoulders drooping slightly. An identity that isn't built around my words? The ability to undo everything I did to provoke you? But nothing Geralt could actually give him came to mind, so instead he shook his head. The light was fading, and they still needed to make supper and eat, so Jaskier pushed himself to his feet and right into Geralt's chest, not having noticed the larger man move so much closer to him. Geralt caught his arm to keep him from losing his balance and then, looking almost uncertain but deeply determined, pulled Jaskier into a hug.

He was trying to be comforting, working off of an uncertain and ill-used script, but doing his best for Jaskier's sake, and Jaskier choked on the tears that tried to well up in his eyes. He would not cry, even though the physical affection and comfort was something he hadn't realized he needed so badly. He just pressed his forehead to Geralt's chest and breathed in the smell of sweat and horse and leather and Geralt, willed himself to not fall apart, and tried to drink in what might be the only chance he'd have to be this close to the man he loved more than reason itself. He couldn't stand it for too long, for all he needed the embrace, and he stepped back with what he hoped was a grateful smile before jerking a thumb back over his shoulder toward camp and miming eating stew.

"Fine," Geralt said, and started to walk back, pointedly keeping Jaskier in front of him for some reason. "Get settled, supper soon."

Jaskier waited, after supper, for Geralt to fall asleep, or at least lay down silently long enough that Jaskier had to assume he was asleep, before curling in on himself and letting himself cry out all the raw emotions that Geralt's hug had pulled back up. Not the quiet still tears of that very first night but sobs, for the loss of his voice, the loss of his independence (because how would he survive without Geralt at this point, he had no skills to speak of besides music), the loss of the very core of his identity. He felt lost and isolated and the fact that he could sob so hard and the only sound was the faint exhalation of air made everything even worse.

He wasn't sure how long he cried, until it petered out into sniffles and he had to blow his nose a few times into his handkerchief, even if the sniffling didn't stop. He tried to steady his breathing, stop the silent hiccuping breaths that he associated with small children crying themselves sick, and didn't hear the sounds of Geralt getting up and moving until suddenly he felt Geralt laying down behind him on his bedroll, on top of the blankets, an arm slung over his waist. Where the embrace earlier had forced him to fight back tears, this contact - as unexpected and bizarre as it was - settled Jaskier almost immediately, his trembling breaths slowly evening out to match steady rhythm of Geralt's breathing.

He was exhausted, and quickly found himself drifting off to sleep, wondering absently if he wasn't asleep already, to get to feel secure and soothed by Geralt's solid presence at his back.

He definitely imagined, as he let go of that last scraps of consciousness, that he felt lips press against his hair.

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10)

Now on AO3

[connor-draws-things]

Jamie and Logan’s story thingy :D this is what i have so far

I awake to the sound of my alarm. I tiredly turn it off and get out of bed, dragging myself to my closet of identical-looking clothes. I take one at random and put it on, then fix my hair and brush my teeth. I’ve lived in this house for a while now. To be completely honest, I’ve forgotten what the outside is like. About six years ago, I was kidnapped and woke up here. I still don’t know why I was kidnapped or why nobody has come to save me, but I’ve gotten used to my predicament. I’m just desensitized at this point.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it’s exactly 10 minutes before breakfast is supposed to come. It gets lonely, waiting here. My only form of entertainment are a few video games I’ve beaten multiple times and books that get switched out for new ones every month. Taking one of the more childish fantasy novels off of the bookshelf, I flip through the pages and find my bookmark. Sitting on the couch that has been prepared for me in this house, I begin reading from where I left off last. The brave knight finally escaped his prison and is going to finish his quest alongside his friends. What an experience that must be, to have friends. I used to have them, but I’ve been missing for so long that I’m sure they’ve forgotten about me.

I hear the doorbell ring and I walk to it, opening the slot where a tray of food is handed to me. I don’t know who it is giving me food, but at least they’re not letting me starve to death. I give him a curt “thanks” as I kick the door after receiving my food. Taking the food to the dining table, I eat my breakfast. It’s a boring life, yes, and I still do hope to escape someday. But, there’s no use in putting in the effort right now. The door is solid metal and the windows are bolted by thick sheets of iron. Even when I do manage to unscrew the windows, I get gassed and wake up with the windows bolted over again. It’s a cycle of hopelessness.

Finishing my tray, I push it back through the slot in the door. As I’m about to return to my room, I hear a faint noise on the other side of the door. It sounds like...footsteps? That’s never happened, they usually don’t retrieve my food until 8:30 am. The sound is getting closer and I back away from the door. Someone’s knocking on the door. I’m too scared to speak. They’re ringing the door now. What do they want with me? Unless they…

“Hey, you! You knocking on the door! Are you trying to save me? Hey!” I shout, rushing to the door and frantically begin pulling at the handle. The feelings I’ve stored deep down since that day six years ago suddenly come bursting out of me. I wait for them to answer. They’re not knocking anymore, “H-hey! Hey, please! Please save me!” I start crying.

“Get away from the door, ma’am!” Following the voice’s instruction, I back far away from the door. The footsteps are now charging at the door. I hear a bang and there’s now a dent in the metal door. The banging comes again and again until finally the door flies off its hinges. I duck under the table so as to not get hit by the screws and the pieces of the wall that came out with the door. When I think it’s safe, I reveal my position from under the table to my rescuer. He rushes over to me and holds out his hand for me to grab. Apparently, I was too hesitant and he impatiently took my hand and began dragging me out of what I now know was merely a small apartment in a large building. 

“Wh-who are you?” I ask, trying to slow him down, “Wh-what’s going on?” He doesn’t slow down.

“I’ll explain later, we don’t have much time.” We run into an elevator, and it descends much faster than I remember them going. I almost let out a scream before my rescuer covers my mouth and makes a motion for me to shush. I follow his orders and the elevator doors open. He observes the building before pulling me along through the empty lobby. It’s in ruins, completely trashed. What...happened?

We finally made it through the ruined building, but the outside is no better. In fact, it’s so much worse. This isn’t the world I used to know. Everything’s destroyed and the sky is growing gray. Feeling my face growing red, I pull my hand away from the man, “Explain what’s going on right now! I deserve an explanation for all of this!” I cross my arms and stand my ground and he only rolls his eyes in response, upsetting me more. All of a sudden, his expression quickly transformed into fear and he pulled me away just in time.

I turned to see what he pulled me away from, and it was something that wasn’t human. Or if it had been, it certainly wasn’t anymore. An 8 foot tall monster of a morphed person stood before us, long claws ready to pounce at any second. I could hardly breathe as I watched its back, damaged from the tumble, quickly heal itself in a sickening fashion to where I could hear all its bones pop back into place. My rescuer began pulling me into a run and I could feel my heart pounding. What...was that?

We reach a nearby park and he pushes me into a car and gets in behind me.

“William, start driving now.” I look down at my hands, realizing I’m trembling so much. The driver my rescuer just spoke to, William, began to turn around to face us. His face was beginning to morph, scarily like the monster we had just seen.

“I’m sorry, I failed.” Was the last thing he said before the rest of his body morphed completely as me and my rescuer exited the car as quickly as we arrived.

“Good thing we have a backup.” He said, running inside a nearby building. It wasn’t as destroyed as the others and my rescuer let us stop to catch our breaths. This would be a good time to answer all of my questions.

“Hey…” I said, panting heavily, “Wh-what the hell is going on?”

“Did you not see what was outside? That’s what’s going on.”

“But what was that?” I ask, standing straight. He’s quiet for a little while and then started walking. I followed him, “Answer me!”

“You were locked up for so long, you probably wouldn’t believe me. In fact, I didn’t believe it at first…” His voice trailed off, “They’re monsters. From another world.”

“L-like...another planet? Aliens?”

“No, like another dimension entirely.”

I stopped walking, “Wh-what?”

“Keep walking, we don’t have time to stop. I’ll continue explaining if you stop interrupting.” I nodded in response and continued walking alongside him.

“About a month before you were kidnapped, NASA found signs of interdimensional travel from beings not in our own universe. They didn’t release this information to the public because it would cause widespread panic across the globe. Then they discovered that some of the creatures from the other dimension had already started leaking into our world. They managed to capture one and research it and found that if its DNA was to enter a person, that person would begin to mutate. The same happened to animals and plants. I happened to be a test subject and they found out certain people were immune to it. Including me. Around that time, they began quarantining those who are immune.’

‘You happened to be one of those people. They haven’t told those they quarantined, though. They wanted to keep us safe from those monsters and live in ignorance. Since I already knew, I wasn’t quarantined. I’ve been trying to find others like us but…” He went silent.

“What happened?” I asked, curiosity eating at me.

“...” He sighs, “They were all dead. Killed by those monsters.”

“But I thought you said we were safe from them!”

“We are safe from turning into them. But, it isn’t like we’re immune to their teeth and claws. They can still wound us and...cut us up beyond recognition.” His eyes seemed to wander somewhere else, like he was remembering something. Something I knew better than to ask about.

“So we’re the last ones? The last once immune to those monsters?” I asked.

“‘Fraid so.”

“What about everyone else? There’s still a few regular people, right? Like William…”

“Yeah, that’s where we’re headed.”

“Huh?”

“Humans have established a new society with the peaceful creatures from the other dimension. That’s where we’re headed. I haven’t actually been there yet, but it shouldn’t be too different from how the world was before The Catastrophe.” He opened a door for me and we were on the roof of the building we had just walked to. A helicopter was perched in front of us.

“What if it really is different from the world we knew? I mean, you can’t know for certain we’ve established peace with those creatures. Or if they’re really as peaceful as you say.”

“We’ll just have to hope, then. And find a way to live in this new society.” He helped me onto the helicopter as he took the pilot seat, beginning to lift us off the building. I’d never been in a helicopter before...it feels weird. Things were quiet as we flew through the air, passing the occasional mutated bird.

“Hey, so what’s your name anyway? You still haven’t told me.”

“Logan.” He said sternly. He wasn’t one for pleasantries, apparently. He was like a grumpy old man, except he wasn’t that old. Maybe mid twenties? I guess that isn’t really important anyway.

“My name is-”

“Jamie, I know.” He cut me off. He wasn’t one for manners, either. The helicopter ride was silent. It wasn’t like we could really talk about anything other than the end of the world. And that wasn’t a pleasant thought. The silence became unbearable. If we had some music, that would at least make the ride more comfortable. But, our trip didn’t last much longer. A giant monster, with wings nearly its whole size attacked our helicopter.

“Logan!” I yelped out, grabbing his arm to steady myself. Not that it helped much, because he was shaking around in the helicopter just as much as I was. He reached for some bags on the wall of the helicopter and handed me one.

“Put it on, now! We’re abandoning this helicopter!”

“Wh-what?!” But he didn’t give me time to fully comprehend the situation before he put on his own bag and jumped out the helicopter. I hesitated for a second before finally putting on my bag and jumping out the helicopter. Pulling on a cord from the bag, my parachute released. But, the helicopter burned and fell in the distance, and I could see the monster still attacking it. It must not have good vision if it can’t see we’re no longer inside.

I looked below me and saw Logan’s parachute but...below him was water. The sea for miles. How the hell are we supposed to survive this? We glided down, down, and down even more. Until we reached the icy cold water. It didn’t help that I wasn’t that good of a swimmer. At least the parachute could sort of work as a raft to keep me from falling to the bottom. I saw Logan swimming toward me.

“Sorry.” He huffed out, “I don’t think we’re gonna make it.” I already knew that. My first time out of that stupid apartment in years and I’m going to die. I sighed and continued holding onto the parachute. It was clear we were miles away from any shore. I should just give up hope at this point, it was wrong of me to think I had any chance of living a normal life again. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep…

…And woke up with Logan shaking me awake.

“Huh?” I asked, sitting up. Sitting? I noticed the sand running through my fingers, “Where are we? How did we survive?” I asked.

“I’m...not really sure. I just woke up here with you.” Logan responded. He sounded genuine, which means neither of us have no idea where we are. This could be pretty dangerous.

“Do you have anything we can use to defend ourselves in case a monster tries to attack us?” I ask. It’s scary having to ask that. To realize that this is reality and I’m trying to survive. I just have to deal with it.

“I only have one pistol. It doesn’t have much ammo, though.” He sighed, “We gotta focus on where we are first. Come on, we gotta see if there’s a city or if there’s any people left here at least.” I nod in agreement and stand up to help find any signs of people.

/////////////////////////////

@shsl-bi-ovo @heeliesstuff

[the-innefable-idiot]

welcome home

Hello yall!!!

This is my 3k fic based on the fic "another part of me could be you" by @spaceskam. I honestly don't know how to classify this, but you can consider a homage (?) to her work.

This pretty much a fanfic of a fanfic... yeah. I know.

Every feedback is welcome, both for plot/characterization and grammar/ponctuation. English is not my first language, so I usually right phrases that only make perfect sense to me. I want your reading to be as enjoyable as possible! :D

Please, enjoy!

Also on AO3.

-

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear

(Lovely, Billie Eilish feat. Khalid)

Michael almost looses Alex for the second time, and now je realises it's time for him to get his act together. He just wasn't expecting all the love and support he got.

- 

Home is a concept that Michael never quite understood. Sure, he lived in many houses, but the goodbyes were never emotional. He knows that home is not the structure, but the feelings attached to some place, something or someone. Whenever he thought of home, blurred memories from outer space came to mind. The feeling of belonging was strong, even if he couldn’t attach an image to it. 

Michael used to spend hours fantasizing on how to turn a house into a home. A collection of mugs nicely displayed in the dining room. Vinyls and cds on one shelf and books on another, with a nice record player nearby. Some musical instruments considered weird by western standards. The walls covered with pictures of people and places he loved alongside posters of movies and bands he enjoyed. Had he grown up in a nice home, he would probably have been those kids with a camera in hand at all times, capturing moments around him.

Once he knew he was so, but so close to understand the meaning of home. He was thinking about buying a camera literally moments before his hand was shattered by a psychopath. Since then he swore to never raise his hopes. The day drinking and the bar fighting were the ways he made sure to never expect anything from anyone. Alex symbolized everything he wanted to have, but couldn’t, so he was determined to go for a simpler route. 

With Maria things were nice. A little bit more complicated than he expected, but still nice. Sure, she wouldn't be moving to the airstream anytime soon, but the relationship was nice. Her place has a few of his things: a toothbrush, a few pieces of clothing neatly folded in one corner of a drawer, a few bottles of beer and whiskey, a handful of books and even some mechanical tools he forgot to take back to his place. Michael never enjoyed making Maria to spend the night at the airstream, first because the overall place was tiny and uncomfortable, and second because her house had the whole atmosphere he dreamt about.

It was clear the effort they were putting into the relationship. Maybe a bit too much of an effort, some might say. As the time passed, everyone close to them noticed how the smiles between them stopped reaching their eyes. Michael would never admit it, but Alex being kidnapped only sped up the inevitable.

Michael knew something bad happened before Forrest came to him in the middle of a panic attack. He had this prickling feeling on his neck that something was just not right since he opened his eyes that morning. Now he was gripping the steering wheel of his truck and focusing on not letting his powers break something. The adrenalin rush being the only thing keeping him from having a mental breakdown. Actually, filling in Forrest with the whole alien thing was a great distraction because of the many details and intricate history he had to cover. Maybe Forrest noticed it and kept asking questions to ground Michael to the task at hand. Maybe Michael will find a way to subtly thank him later for that. Just maybe.

After finding a path of bodies that lead to a bleeding Alex on the floor, Michael felt like breathing for the first time that day. The relief was short, however, and the moment he saw the deadly wound (gun? Knife? Oh God it was bad) he knew what he should do. Forrest was holding an unconscious Alex on his arms. Somehow he managed to tear apart the bloodied shirt to ease the access to the wound (thanks Forrest, again). Michael's healing powers were shit, and he knew he wouldn't be able to heal Alex completely, but damn him if he weren't going to die trying.

The last thing he clearly remembers is the glow on his hands. He has flashes of walking to the car and drinking acetone. He was 75% sure he didn't hallucinate Kyle being there to check up on Alex. Did Alex really ask to sleep by his side? Was Forrest still there? Who knew? Definitely not him.

The next day Michael woke up at noon, still not sure if he was indeed in bed with those two guys or if it was just his brain revenging him after almost melting it the night before. Alex was still too drugged up for Michael to feel anything concrete from the handprint, but only the fact everyone was breathing was enough to calm him down.

This moment of silence between the three of them only gave Michael the reassurance to set things right with Maria. He couldn't keep marinating her in a below-average relationship just so he could prove a point. Maria deserved more than he could give her.

-------

The break-up was... complex. He could see jealousy and suspicion in her body language, and nothing Michael said changed that. Deep down she always new the possibility of Michael going back to Alex, but she was willing to try anyway. She was making an effort not to be too angry, after all she knew her friend had a past with the cowboy but still wanted to try a relationship. She avoided Alex for a while, scared for his reaction, but when the confrontation happened, she was met with nothing but understanding. She’ll never know how Alex could be so calm back then, because right now this fucking hurt and she wanted to punch something.

Moments before he left, Maria stopped him, asking him the one thing he didn't want to answer.

"Why are you choosing him now, Michael?" She asked while putting too much force on drying a cup of glass. "The other day he was stabbed, and you stayed for me. So, what changed? Definitely not Alex almost dying"

"I don't... know." He hesitated. Who was he kidding, this was their break-up and she deserved the truth, even if it meant not crossing her path ever again. "I think that nothing changed, actually. I really believed we had a chance at being happy together, you and I, and I was willing to try. I was so focused on choosing you over him every time that in that morning it was more of an autopilot choice. I didn't follow my heart because I’ve programmed myself to choose you." He could feel his voice cracking. The words were too painful even to him, but once he started he couldn't stop.

"God, Michael" she put the glass down hard, the only reason for not breaking being its thickness. "I am angry, and sad, and I don't want to see you for a while, but..." she looked at him, her voice going a bit soft for her next words "what we had was exhausting. I've been trying to pinpoint the moment where we turned the relationship into an obligation. Now I see it’s been like this since the beginning, but we couldn’t keep the act for too long." 

"I'm sorry, Deluca."

"I'm sorry too." She turned her back on him to organize the bottles on the shelf. "Just... stay away for a while, yes? I need to clear my head."

Michael tipped his cowboy hat and left without saying a word. Mixed with the sadness was a sense of relief. Now Deluca was free from him, free to search for someone who will wholeheartedly love her the way she deserved. He didn’t regret being with her, they took a shot and failed, but that’s life. At least they know they tried. His regret was on his actions. Maybe if he’d been more honest since the beginning, the end would’ve been different. 

-------

Alex was still asleep when Michael came back to the cabin. The handprint feeling was still fuzzy, so good thing Alex didn't feel all the whirlwind of emotions from the conversation with Maria. Michael had to drive around for a few hours after leaving the Wild Pony just to clear his head. The first thing he noticed when entering the cabin was Forrest in the kitchen, probably cooking something for Alex.

"Alex said, and I quote, you like your coffee like you like your men and women: strong and sweet. Is that right?" Forrest asked without taking his eyes from the stove. "I’m cooking everyone’s favourite because... well... because I can, but also because we deserve it. Alex and I ate half an hour ago, but gimme five minutes and your food will be ready."

Michal was shocked. One thing was Alex telling Forrest what Michael liked to eat and drink, another thing was for Forrest to get out of his way to just cook it. Why would he do that, specially considering he was the ex in the equation? 

"Michael, I barely know you and I can almost feel you overthinking this. Before Alex went back to take a nap he told me you were getting near the cabin and that I should start cooking. Which reminded me, later you both must explain the whole handprint thing for me. I’m still digesting the whole alien superpower thing, but I want to know more" Michael could hear Forrest's smile in his voice. Forrest was relieved and comfortable so his entire body acted like it. 

"Michael. Sit."

And he sat on the table without thinking twice. Sure, the warmth he was feeling towards Forrest was 100% from Alex because of the handprint, but damn this pocket-size historian for making it way too easy to like him.

Forrest put the meal on the table and sat near him. Michael only realised he was starving the moment he took the first bite, and in less than 10 minutes all the food was gone. The coffee was in a nice mug with the Slipknot logo on it, probably Forrest’s, because he knew Alex inclined towards the more emo bands.

As he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Forrest sat on the couch. Michael knew he should leave and let Forrest take care of Alex, but he ended up sitting by the historian's side. He simply didn't want to go.

"Michael..." Forrest started, with his voice soft and his eyes even softer. "You are probably confused by your feelings because of the handprint. Right now you are feeling what Alex feels, so we can only have this full conversation once you are out of Alex's system."

Michael had to take a sip of his coffee just to do something with his hands. In his mind he was bracing himself for the final blow that would destroy him. Forrest was going to order him to leave them alone and never go back.

"Alex told me about your history, and I am so sorry for all the trauma you went through, and I am not saying only your hand.”

Oh, so Forrest knew about that.

“The three of us... we grew up thinking that love and pain are intertwined, you can only love something if you suffer for it." Forrest grabbed Michael's hands, forcing Michael to keep eye contact. "It took me and Alex years and a literal war to understand that love is not painful. It’s hard to believe, both at home or in a battlefield, and even to this day I wake up with doubts.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Michael could see Forrest tensing up, an indication that the next words were hard for him to say out loud. 

“Maybe my family is right and being gay is a punishment, and I deserve to be loveless and miserable for the rest of my life. When you hear you’re not worthy enough times, you start believing in it. Some days nothing, and I mean nothing, can change my mind."

Forrest noticed Michael was getting uncomfortable, and let go of his hands. Both took a sip of their drinks before Forrest sighed, and Michael could see the sadness behind his eyes. A sadness he knew all too well, one that everyone carries but few could hide well. It was a sadness that put doubt in people's heart and turned their self-worth into smoke. Michael wanted to hold Forrest and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but it was probably Alex' influence.

"Alex told me you grew up in the system, the next family worse than the last. I’ve worked with endangered youth, kids with similar stories, and I know how ugly it can get.”

Michael tensed up even more, a reflex that Forrest mistook for annoyance or anger. Michael tried his best to relax, to show Forrest it wasn’t him. It was an unconscious reaction from years of abuse. The historian hesitated for a moment, but then continued.

“What I’m saying is that... it was hard for me to learn that suffering for love ain't romantic or cute. Alex and I want to help you get out of this destructive path you are going through, but we need to start things right. No lies, no secrets, and specially no shame." Forrest grabbed Michael's hand again, but this time Michael was more comfortable. "I want you both to be happy, even if it means me getting out of the picture eventually." As a reflex, Michael tightened his hand, a silent 'no' for the possibility. Forrest smiled and let his thumb caressed the back of Michael's hand.

"I know you can't make any decision right now. First because you just broke up with a long-term friend, and second because of the handprint. Much of your feelings are from Alex, so you are biased. But..." He stopped to bring Michael hands to his lips, and Forrest kissed them lightly with a hint of a smile "once we settle down, we can try something different.”

Michael was taken by surprise. He ran many scenarios in his head, and none of them came close to <i>that.

“I mean, what's the point of being a gay historian if I keep my mind closed towards contemporary interpersonal relations? Monogamy is a recent construct to better control nuclear households and… and... I am going to stop because I am losing the focus here.”

Michael laughed. He understood more and more Forrest's appeal. After a few hours of almost losing Alex and breaking up with Maria, Forrest managed to make Michael laugh.

“Alex says I get a bit too passionate about this matters and..."

"Can I kiss you?" Michael blurted, surprising even himself. "I know, I know, the handprint and all, but Alex's feelings are still fuzzy from the drugs and I am pretty sure he doesn't control every single emotion I have." Now it was time for Forrest to be taken aback. He pondered for two heartbeats and nodded, still processing what just happened. 

Michael caressed Forrest face, mimicking what the historian did few moments ago on the back of his hand. Michael’s calloused fingers brushed the other man’s face, bringing him closer. It started as a brush of lips, and then escalated to a slow and tender kiss. It was one of those that meant comfort, not sex. It made Michael feel warm and safe. Forrest was saying "I accept you and you can stay", and Michael almost felt like crying.

The kiss was broken when they felt the weight shift in the sofa. Michael didn't know for how long they’ve been kissing. The only thing he processed was Forrest on his lap by the time Alex showed up. Michael was starting to panic when Forrest just let a little laugh, going back to the couch to give Alex a kiss on his forehead.

Michael's heart only came back to normal because he could feel how calm and peaceful Alex was. If not for the handprint, he’d definitely be running away right now. After the initial shock, Michael started to process how easy it felt to kiss Forrest while actively ignoring how he was the current boyfriend of his ex.

"You're overthinking again, Michael." Surprisingly (or maybe not), this phrase came out of Forrest, again. He didn't need a handprint to understand what was going on inside the alien's head, and that scared Michael. If only by knowing the stories he understood Michael better than his siblings, what would Forrest be able to do with a little more intimacy?

"War taught us that we can't take tomorrow for granted." Alex said, with a hint of tiredness in his voice that only existed after a drug-induced sleep. "That doesn't mean I'll feel sorry for you and let you go away with all the shit you put me through, Guerin." Alright, back to the last name basis then. "But I will, actually we will, offer you a chance of redemption, but it will all depend on you."

"Own your mistakes and learn from them. Don't project your faults onto others." Forrest said while standing up from the couch. "That means no more bullshit, Guerin."

Michael felt oddly comforted by both men being so straightforward. Yeah, he could get used to this bluntness. Maybe this is the first change he has to make from now on.

"Once this handprint fades and we’re in fully control of our emotions, we’ll talk about possibilities. Right now I just need to focus on not dying from an infected wound which an alien helped to heal." Alex said, finishing Forrest's tea to the last drop.

“Now, let’s give ourselves some time to digest everything. God knows I still need to process that I made coffee for an alien”. Which, by the way, would you like some more tea, captain?” Forrest stood up and grabbing the mug from Alex' hands. He didn't have to look at Alex to know the answer. "More coffee for you, Michael?" He motioned to the mug on the table.

Michael nodded, still mesmerized by what was happening. They had a long path ahead of them, but he knew how easy could it be to fall into a routine with them. Maybe the Slpiknot mug would slowly turn into his mug, and this realisation terrified him.

Michael slowly gave the object to the historian. He felt like if he moved a bit too abrupt, everything would dissolve and he would wake up in the airstream. Instead, the only thing that happened was Forrest going back to the kitchen and Alex completely relaxed on the couch. 

“Did he give you the whole speech about monogamy and nuclear households? I mean, the whole speech?” Michael shook his head no, and Alex let out a soft laugh. “Then get ready for at least a two-hour lecture from him. I’m not exaggerating. He has a powerpoint presentation about it.” 

Michael could feel more of Alex as the seconds passed, and he has never been so sure that he wanted to change. Forrest and Alex started talking about nothing in particular and Michael closed his eyes, letting himself be surrounded by the tenderness and warmth radiating from that place.

the end

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #63.

Thank you to @lightwoodalltheway for messaging me with this prompt, it was a great idea and I really enjoyed writing this story!

It is a bright August day in London, 1903 when 18 year-old Thomas Lightwood finishes the cure to the demon poison that killed his sister just a few weeks ago. 

Thomas, Cordelia, Lucie and even Grace had gone to great lengths to get the last ingredient for the cure, practically risking their lives by sneaking into the gardens at Tatianna’s Chiswick home to get the plant that would finish the cure. Of course non of them were complaining, The Herondales, Fairchilds, Lightwoods and Carstairs would do anything for one another, even Alistair helped out by persuading Charles to allow Thomas to use Henry’s laboratory to finish off the cure, and staying behind to help him. 

It had only taken Thomas about 20 minutes to finish off the cure, but they were the most terrifying 20 minutes of his life. He may have watched Christopher and their Uncle Henry working on this cure, for weeks now, but he was no scientist like them, he had never done anything like this before and he was terrified to fail, it was too late to save his sister, but he could not bare the idea of it being too late to save all the others who are attacked too, all because of him.

After what feels like an age, Thomas finishes the cure and sits back from the work bench, his shoulders sagging in relief, now he can only hope it really will work. 

“There.” Thomas says in a tone of relief. “There, it’s done. I have finished it.” 

“How do you know? How do you know it will work?” Alistair asks in a curious tone. 

“Well, Kit and Uncle Henry wrote down every step needed to make this cure once they figured out exactly how to make it, the last thing we needed was this plant from my Aunt Tatianna’s garden, though I suppose we will not know for certain if it works, until we try it.” Thomas  explains, rubbing at his heavy and bleary eyes, exhausted from worrying so much about Christopher and from working on the cure. 

“Well then we best go to The Silent City, every second is precious.” Alistair says, helping Thomas to his feet, clearly able to see how exhausted and worn out the other boy is. Thomas nods as he slips on his coat. 

“Thank you Alistair, for persuading Charles to allow me to use the lab and for staying behind with me.” Thomas quietly says.

“I-I did not do anything, I just sat here and watched you, no more use than Matthew’s dog.” Alistair quietly says.

“You kept me company in an extremely stressful and terrifying situation, you had faith in me, unlike Charles. And, I think you are far more charming than Oscar, though do not tell Matthew I said that or he will disown me.” Thomas laughs, as he and Alistair ascend the stairs and walk out into the courtyard, toward the carriage. 

“I did not stay for you or your sake, it was for Charles, to give him piece of mind and make sure you did not blow up his house.” Alistair snaps, spoiling Thomas’ good mood.

20 minutes later the boys arrive at the nearest entrance to The Silent City. They make their way down to the first level in complete silence, Alistair walking behind Thomas, holding his witchlight so they can see where they are going and so he can catch Thomas if he slips, while holding the cure.

When they reach the first level they are greeted by Brother Enoch, who almost makes a very jumpy and nervous Thomas jump out of his skin, when he steps out of the shadows. 

Thomas Lightwood and Alistair Carstairs, what brings you to The Silent City? Brother Enoch’s cold and toneless voice echos in their minds. Thomas swallows nervously before beginning to speak. 

“W-we... we need to see Uncle_ Brother Zachariah, please it is urgent, it is in regards to the cure for the demon poison, for my cousin Christopher and everyone else who has been afflicted by the poison.” Thomas stammers nervously. 

Very well, follow me. Brother Enoch says, before soundlessly turning and making his way down the next set of stairs, never once checking to see if the boys are following him.

A few minutes later the arrive in the infirmary of The Silent City, a bare stone-walled room with two rows of single beds with starch white sheets, standing out against the dull grey of the walls and floor. At least 10 of the beds are taken up, all with Shadowhunters who were attacked by the Khora demons.  Thomas’ gaze is drawn straight to Christopher, who is in the bed nearest the entrance. His face is pale, his brown hair lying flat for once, when usually it is stuck up at every odd angle imaginable, his eyes are closed and his glasses have been neatly and lovingly folded and put on the nightstand, next to his bed. 

In this moment Thomas feels as if he has been pushed to the very edge and can no longer cope, seeing his beloved cousin so ill and on the brink of death is threatening to push him over the edge and send him into complete despair and panic, he already lost his sister, he cannot lose his cousin too. Thomas and Christopher are possibly the closest out of the all the cousins, and always have been. They grew up together, Thomas was Christopher’s biggest supporter and defender, right next to Anna and Cecily and Gabriel. He had happily sat and listened to Christopher talking about science and inventions for hours and hours, Thomas had bought Christopher his first real science book, at age 10 with money he had been given for his birthday. He helped Christopher acquire his own beakers, test tubes, etc, so he would not have to constantly be borrowing Henry’s.

Christopher was Thomas’ first baby cousin, he had only been 18 months when Christopher was born but he can still remember walking into The Basilias with his parents and sisters. and seeing his Aunt Cecily sitting in one of the beds with her hair tied back, Uncle Gabriel at her side and a tiny little baby in a pale yellow onsie and wrapped in flame orange colored blanket. He had been fascinated by the baby, his baby cousin Christopher, and was delighted when Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel let him hold Kit. It was in that moment that Thomas and Christopher’s bond began, Thomas immediately felt protective of his baby cousin and did not want to let him go. When Cecily and Christopher came home form The Basilias a few days later, Thomas begged his parents to take him to see his cousin everyday. He had loved helping his Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel with Christopher, always devastated when he himself fell ill and was not well enough to go see Christopher, or to have Christopher over, due to his weak immune system not being able to handle even the flu.

Over the years, when Thomas was still ill and sickly, before he got better, when he was allowed visitors, Christopher would come sit by his bed and tell him all about the latest news in the world of science and talk to him about his latest inventions or read to him from his science books. 

Now the roles are reversed, Thomas is the one visiting a very ill Christopher, and he simply does not know it he can take it. 

You may wait here, Brother Zachariah will be along in a moment. Brother Enoch tells them, before stepping back into the shadows, no doubt to make sure they are not up to no good. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later Brother Zachariah steps into the room, his hood drawn back, the way it had always been when he would visit Thomas and tend to him, when Thomas was ill as a child. 

“Uncle Jem!” Thomas exclaims, darting to his Uncle’s side. “I finished it, the cure for the demon poison, I have it here!” He exclaims in a rushed tone. 

Well done Thomas, how must it be given to the patients? Jem calmly asks. 

“It’s a salve, we need to put it on their wounds, that is what Christopher and Uncle Henry told me.” 

Very well, let us try it and hope it works. Jem says, gently taking the box containing the salve, from his nephew. 

“Give it to Christopher first, please. We would not have found this cure without him, he should be healed first.” Thomas says in a shaky tone. Jem nods.

Alright, you come with me Thomas, if this works it will be good for Christopher to have a friendly and familiar face to wake up to. Thomas nods and follows his Uncle to Christopher’s bed.

As Jem unwinds the bandages around Christopher’s chest, Thomas kneels next to his cousin’s bed, holding his hand tightly. 

Just a few seconds after Jem applies the salve to Christopher’s wounds, Christopher begins to stir. Soon the color returns to his face and he blinks open his eyes, squinting at the bright witchlight filling the room. 

“Kit! Are you alright? How do you feel?” Thomas asks in an urgent tone, leaning forward to push Christopher’s hair out of his face, cupping his face in his hands and looking for any sign that the cure did not work. 

“Ahh get off Tom! You are worse than mama for fussing.” Christopher exclaims, pushing his cousin’s hands away. 

“Sorry, but you are alright?” Thomas asks, handing Christopher his glasses. 

“Yes, I am perfectly fine. You did it then, you finished the cure?” Christopher hopefully asks, slipping his glasses back on and pushing himself up into a sitting position. Thomas nods. 

“I did, but you did all the hard work Kit, you and Uncle Henry. By The Angel I am just so glad you are alright, I could not have bared it if I lost Barbra and you.” Thomas says in a relived tone. 

“It was a three person effort Tom, you, me and Uncle Henry, it could not have been done without any of us.” Christopher says, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Actually it was more of an 8 person job, I could not have gotten the final ingredient without Jamie, Lucie, Cordelia and Grace, and Alistair helped too, he persuaded Charles to allow me to use Uncle Henry’s lab to finish off the cure. I think Lucie is going to end up writing a story about what we went through to get that last ingredient, most of us almost died, but I know we would all do it again, for you.” Thomas tells his cousin. “Can I hug you?” He asks, knowing Christopher does not like to be hugged or touched at all really, he hates it when Cecily ruffles his hair or kisses his cheek and calls him her brilliant little boy. 

“Only if you promise to tell me the story of how you and the others got the last ingredient.” Thomas grins and hugs Christopher tightly.

“I will do anything you want Kit, I am just so glad you are okay.” He says, ruffling his cousin’s hair as he pulls back from the hug. 

“Gah! When did you turn so sappy Thomas? You know when mama says to give me a hug for her, you do not literally have to do it.” Christopher grumbles, making Thomas laugh.

“Uncle Jem, when can Kit come home?” Thomas hopefully asks, grasping Christopher’s hand again and looking at Uncle Jem, who is now tending to Ariadne. 

Soon Thomas, a day or two perhaps. But do not worry, you can come visit him as often as you like now. Jem assures him, seeing glimpses of himself and William at that age. If Thomas were not already 18, Jem would not have been surprised if he and Christopher became Parabatai.

“Tom, did you bring me any of my science books?” Christopher hopefully asks. If he is to be stuck down here fro two more days he would like to use the opportunity to do some more reading for his next experiment or invention. 

“Afraid not, old chap. I was mostly concerned about getting to you before the demon poison did. I will bring some tomorrow if you like.” Thomas offers. Christopher smiles and nods. 

“Thank you Tom, oh and if Cordelia is coming could you ask her to bring some of those lemon tarts she brought to the picnic in regent’s park?” Christopher hopefully asks, his eyes back to their usual brightness and full of intelligence and kindness. Thomas laughs and nods. Only their Christopher would be thinking of science books and lemon tarts after coming back from the verge of death. 

Thomas stays with Christopher for about another hour, before Jem gently tells him that Christopher needs to rest now, but Thomas can come back in the morning. 

“I will see you tomorrow Kit, I love you.” Thomas says, teasingly ruffling his hair again. 

When Thomas reaches the exit to the room, he is greatly surprised to see Alistair still there, leaning against the wall, witchlight in hand. 

“Alistair! I thought you would have left an age ago.” Thomas says in a tone of surprise. 

“I had to wait for you, I couldn’t very well take the carriage and leave you here, Lightwood.” Alistair informs him, folding away his mundane newspaper. 

“I could have walked.” Thomas says, as they start climbing the stairs. Alistair shakes his head. 

“Too dangerous, with the Khora and Mandikhor still out there, you know what the Clave said, we should travel in pairs or groups now, never alone.” Alistair says.

“Oh, well thank you.” Thomas says, still a bit shocked that Alistair waited for him. 

“That’s alright. Listen, Lightwood. Would you... perhaps like to go for a drink? You probably need it after the evening you have had and frankly, so could I.” Alistair asks, trying to keep the shy tone out of his voice. He does not want Lightwood to realize that he actually likes him, as more than a friend, and wants to spend time with him. 

“Alright, we could go the The Devil Tavern, if non of the others are there we can go up to the room the boys and I rent, so we can actually hear one another when we talk.” Thomas says, as they walk toward the carriage. 

An hour later, Thomas and Alistair are sitting in opposite arm chairs in The Merry Thieves rented room, above The Devil tavern, talking as they sip on glasses of brandy.

“Cordelia has told me about this place, it must be nice to have somewhere private to gather with your friends, away from nosy adults.” Alistair quietly says, looking around him and wishing he had somewhere private like this where he could meet Charles, so they did not have to sneak around, stealing kisses for five minutes here or there. If they had a room like this they would not have to worry about anyone seeing them. Alistair is sure if he looked he could find somewhere like this, but Charles would likely never agree to it. He seems ashamed of his feelings for Alistair, and though he says he loves him, Alistair is not convinced. The only thing Charles seems to love is his job.

“It is, I love my parents and sisters... well, sister now, but it is nice to get away sometimes and spend time alone with my friends. You know, I am sure the others would be happy to accept you into our little group, I could ask them.” Thomas says, sending a spark of hope through Alistair. It would be nice to have friends, and maybe he could confide in these friends about his preference for men. Christopher’s sister Anna is exclusively attracted to women, Matthew Fairchild is attracted to both men and women, and even sweet Lucie seems to harbor feelings of more than friendship, for his sister.

“Do you think so?” Alistair hopefully asks, sitting forward eagerly. 

“Yes, absolutely, I will ask them the minute I next see them, you will fit in perfectly with us!” Thomas cheerfully tells him. Alistair’s heart races with the thought of possibly being accepted, of finally having people to confide in. He never thought Thomas Lightwood of all people, would make him feel the way Charles does, but treat him so much better than Charles treats him. 

Maybe it is the alcohol, maybe it is the stress after such a long day and the relief of knowing that all those who were attacked by the Khora are now well, or maybe it is just his own desire. Whatever it is, it is what makes Alistair set his glass down, drop to the floor next to Thomas, take his face in his hands and kiss him.

[helihi]

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty: RWBY Vol 6 Ep 8

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT BEING WORRIED. PLZ KELIN BE SAFE.

Overall rating: 5/10

Spoilers Ahead

The Good

One thing that the CRWBY had gotten right since day 1 was the family dynamics and the depiction of abuse in the Schnee household. I don’t say this lightly: I personally know what is to grow up in an abusive household. When I heard Weiss be so hard on herself in Forever Fall during those first episodes, I knew she likely had an abusive parent.

When analyzing a show, especially when one touches on very delicate subjects, it’s a huge sign of disrespect not to dive into them and extract everything you can from the themes. In this case, it gets personal.

Tumblr is an odd place: a site where anonymity and honesty blend together in an odd way. For years, I used this username as a way to put myself out there without endangering myself, but as I grew up and started using the internet to find a job, it was hard to separate this personal little hole I dug for myself and the projects I had in mind for the future. Today, I make choice while doing this review, and that choice is sharing with you part of my childhood, and the reason behind it is to state my bias: I don’t feel empathy for Willow, even before she was introduced I felt she was the worse mother in team RWBY. That, in the short future might change, but here are the reasons why:

Jacques Schnee is an awful person. He’s a terrible businessman, an abusive husband, and an abusive father. He left a mark on all of his family members: his wife turned to drinking, his oldest daughter joined the military to escape him and put herself in harm’s way to protect her younger sister, her second daughter hated herself and didn’t trust anyone around her, and his son mirrored his behavior to protect himself.

However, an abusive household can have more relationships than just “an abuser and his victims”, it can also be “an abuser, an enabler, and their victims”. I don’t mean to say the enabler is not a victim themselves, but their secondary role has an important impact in the life of children.

So here’s my truth: my mother is abusive and my father is an enabler. I don’t know how it happened, but my mother’s violent and hurtful behavior was first downplayed by my father, then it was dismissed, and, in odd times, it was mirrored. A while ago, Lindsay Ellis made a video about Guardians of the Galaxy 2. There’s one quote that always resonated with me:

“The dynamic between Gamora and Nebula might read as familiar for people who grew up in households with abusive or addicted parents, and that is the displacement of anger from the abuser (...) to an older sibling or parent that failed to stop the abuser or the addict. (...) It can be even harder for people to forgive a sibling or a parent who failed to stop abuse than it is to forgive the abuser.” - Lindsay Ellis on Gamora and Nebula’s relationship.

That being said, I don’t, in any way shape or form, believe that Willow is worse than Jacques. However, before you’re quick to defend her or “protect her” remember that she allowed her husband to harm their children as much as he could. At no point did she ever stand up, or seek help; maybe it was because of shame or the need to uphold an image to the outside viewer, but the truth remains: she failed her children.

I’m not saying that Willow was in an easy position, due to her dependency on alcohol and her lack of confidence in herself, we all know that she’s a victim herself, but that will never excuse her behavior in my eyes. When my grandfather became dangerous to my mother and aunt, my grandma packed everything and disappeared with her daughters despite her fear. She made a very risky choice: to move to another province with no job offer and without knowing anyone, but she kept herself and her daughters safe.

My father never put a stop to my mother, and if he ever did, he never was there to make my brother and I feel better or to tell us that we weren’t at fault. I never knew my household was toxic until I started spending more time at my friends’ house (something that my mom wasn't a fan of). It was then that I realized my friends were not scared of their mother’s “wrath” as I was with mine. It was after years of learning this that I realized the reason why I suffer from an anxiety disorder and had suffered from several panic attacks.

Now, I want to draw your attention to a very important scene of this episode, the most important for me: Winter breaks and shouts at her father when under pressure. We’ve never seen her like this. Even her petty quarrel with Qrow didn’t have the same weight to it, and I can tell you why because I’ve lived through it myself:

When you can recognize your abuser’s tactics, and see how they try to gaslight/hurt you or the people you care about after being outside of that toxic environment, you go back to the child you were when you had to live through that. It was like time had never passed. You may get scared or, like me and Winter, you explode.

Winter might have found a surrogate father and a plan outside the Schnee name, but in reality, she’s still at Jacques mercy, more so than Weiss, like I said before. Though it feels great to be right, I cannot describe how miserable seeing the Schnees makes me.

With that finished, I want to move on to what Willow said to Weiss about her and Whitley:

She’s able to recognize that’s better for her children not to be at home, but just like time and time again, she’s an observer, not an active player. She likely saw Weiss leave with the help of Klein, but at no point in time was there for her daughter. So, thanks Willow, for nothing.

Willow is right about Whitley, however it is infuriating that she’s putting his life on his sisters’ shoulders. “You left him here with us.” For fUCKS SAKE. I am doing my best not to go on a rant here, but this whole phrase truly angers me. WHITLEY IS NOT WINTER OR WEISS RESPONSIBILITY, IT NEVER WAS.

I always tried to shield my siblings from my parents’ wrath, but this is not a responsibility you should put in a child. I don’t fucking care if Winter and Weiss are adults, they are victims dealing with their trauma, and though we are all sure Weiss is going to help her brother, that’s not her job. It shouldn’t be her fucking job.

For me, if there was any way for Willow to be somewhat “redeemed” in my eyes, it would be by protecting at least 1 of her fucking children. Say what you want about Raven, she’s an asshole, a manipulator, and a coward, but at least she was there to protect Yang when Neo was about to murder her.

Also, Imma add this here: A kind anon informed me that the vodka that Willow drinks is labeled “Six Swans”, which is a fairy tale written by the Grimm brothers in which a Princess (later Queen) works in silence for years to set her family free from a curse.

If that’s true, then Willow’s cameras will bring Jacques down for treason and the Schnees will be free of him.

So, after all of that, I’m fucking delighted that Winter spoke out during the meeting. People pointed out that Robyn was happy at that, which means that she likely now knows that Ironwood doesn’t trust Jacques, and she will trust on the bees word more than she did last episode.

Don’t think I miss the flirting between Qrow and Clover. It’s so good to see Qrow opening up and refusing alcohol.

The Bad

Fancy dinner everyone! Except no one in the gang is dressed for the occasion.  It makes sense for Ironwood, Winter, and Clover to go in uniform, but the kids have no freaking excuse. Everyone was wearing dresses/suits, except for them. Was it too expensive to suit the gang up, CRWBY?

I don’t like the exaggerated movements of the whole JN_R operation. They could’ve gone the classy spy way, but I guess we need cheap laughs.

Unfortunately, after having a steady episode duration, the writers pull a move from their old books and cut a possible whole episode/special into two for cheap cliff hangers. There’s no reason this episode had to be only 15 minutes and end in the middle of the dinner party. It’s just stupid. This episode only has buildup, no middle, and no end.

I’ve taken a lot of points off this episode because of that cheap trick, I can’t believe they went back to it after doing so well previously.

The Dirty

A long as table and barely anyone there, the fuck???!!!!!!

Also where the fuck is KLEIN IF HE’S NOT SAFE I FUCKING QUIT.

--

Overall rating: 5/10

AN: We don’t talk about the Schnees.

[subvertingyourexpectations]

Top Ten Films of 2019

2019 was… I’m gonna be honest, not a very great year for cinema. Aside from a handful of standouts, I have seen very few things that completely blew me away. Especially given the past few years, we haven’t gotten a Roma, or a Phantom Thread, or a Denis Villeneuve movie. Anyway, this is my top ten favorite films of 2019. 

But first…

Films That Would Make It But Didn’t “Technically” Come Out in 2019

Long Day’s Journey into Night

I already talked at length about this film, but I love it to pieces. It has twisted the visual language of cinema into its own beautiful and bizarre version, crafting a puzzle box of a movie that I absolutely adored. But, it technically came out at the end of 2018, so it can’t be on the list. 

Tigers Are Not Afraid

If you like foreign films, this is a must-see. If you like tragic dramas anchored by some terrific child actor performances, this is a must-see. If you like horror movies, well, it’s not really a horror movie but people keep describing it as one, so you should probably see it. It’s a beautiful little imaginative tale about the effects of the drug war on orphaned kids, and if you can catch it on streaming I would definitely check it out. But, even though it came out in limited release in August, it came out in Mexico in 2017, so I can’t include it. 

One Cut of the Dead 

Maybe the most original film I’ve seen in years? The first half is a terrific little zombie flick all in one camera shot, and somehow the second half expands on this and is ten times better. Watching this in a packed house was one of my favorite moviegoing experiences of the year. It’s one of the most funny and, again, original movies I’ve seen in years.  

Shadow

UGH ALL THE GREAT FOREIGN FILMS DIDN’T COME OUT IN 2019. Anyway this movie is incredible and is maybe the best use of grayscale I’ve seen in any film. 

Movies That Might’ve Made the List But I Sadly Have Not Seen Them Yet

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Pain and Glory 

1917

Bad Education

Little Women

The Souvenir 

Okay, now onto the actual list…

10. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt and James Gray’s remake of Apocalypse Now in space is maybe the weirdest premise for a movie, and yet I really enjoyed Ad Astra. There’s clearly some touches of studio interference that make this movie worse (read: Brad Pitt’s narration), but the underlying themes of anxiety and depression are some of the best I’ve seen on screen. Couple that with Brad Pitt’s best performance of the year (yes), the visual splendor on display, and this movie is an easy inclusion in my top ten of the year. 

9. Uncut Gems

I need to go lie down. After really enjoying the Safdie Brothers’ previous films (Good Time and Heaven Knows What), I was really excited for this movie, and I was not let down. The frenetic, dare-I-say crackhead energy that the Safdies are able to convey in their films is immensely satisfying to watch, and the way Adam Sandler channels it is one of my favorite performances of the year. The last twenty minutes of this movie is just pure panic attack. 

8. The Irishman

Somehow Scorsese’s 209-minute long epic is one of the most watchable films of the year. This is just a terrific example of everyone firing on all cylinders; the performances are great, the script is great, the editing is unbelievable (this movie feels like it is two hours long), and the directing and thematic development towards the third act is some of Scorsese’s best.  

7. The Farewell

A calling card for director Lulu Wang as much as it is for Awkwafina in dramatic roles, The Farewell is an absolute delight. The family dynamics throughout all feel refreshingly authentic, and the film masterfully weaves between its comedic moments and tragic undertones. If it wasn’t for some choices made at the ending, this would probably rank higher on my list. 

6. El Camino

How bad was 2019 for film? A Breaking Bad movie is my sixth favorite film of the year. It doesn’t matter if we “needed” this movie or not, El Camino is just so incredibly well-made and enjoyable. It’s always a pleasure seeing something new in the Breaking Bad universe, but more than that I think this film is a genuinely beautiful swan song for one of the greatest characters in television.

5. Waves

This movie is meandering, aimless, pretentious, and completely style over substance. And yet, the last half hour of this movie hit me harder than almost anything this year. Regardless of how you feel about the characters, I feel like Waves has an overwhelmingly positive message in the end, which is to grow away from your hatred and learn to forgive and love. I’m sure many people will find the way this movie gets to that message to be kind of pointless and wandering, but to me it just turned a pretty good film into one of my favorites of the year. 

4. The Mustang

My local 3-screen art house closed in April of this year. I went there as often as I could, because they were the only theater in town that would play a lot of independent and foreign films. It was the first place I saw Roma, and the first (and, let’s face it, last) time I saw Stalker on the big screen. The last night they were open, I went and saw The Mustang, not based on anything to do with the movie, just because I wanted to be there one last time. It was completely sold out, far busier than I’d ever seen them. In the past I’d always had free roam of where to sit, but that last night I was in the third row from the front.  

If Ad Astra is about depression, then The Mustang is about anger, and learning to overcome your anger and grow as a person. It’s about a prison in Nevada that has a rehabilitation program where violent convicts train wild Mustangs, which are later sold to local ranches and farms. Roman (a terrific performance from Matthias Schoenaerts) is one such convict, and his personal struggle to overcome his anger is beautifully realized against the backdrop of having to fight a wild animal. (Seriously, he goes in swinging and it does not end well for him.) It’s a great story, and it’s a must-watch if you haven’t seen it. The emotional ending coupled with the fact that my favorite theater was closing left me a complete wreck when the credits rolled. (I’m starting to realize my top five films all just boil down to “the ending wrecked me”.) 

3. The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part

This is like The Mustang but for kids.

Okay okay, hear me out, I only saw this movie once when it first came out 11 months ago, and I’m not ever watching it again because I thought it was perfection. I feel like on a repeat visit the songs will become grating, the plot will feel ridiculous, and the themes of toxic masculinity that I appreciated so dearly will seem like faint whispers instead of clear subtext. And yet in the theater, I absolutely adored the songs and the plot and the clear subtext about being a better brother/man. The real-world parallels that were a surprise twist at the end of the first film are used beautifully in The Second Part, because the plot is simply just one big metaphor for a little sister who wants to play with her older brother. It’s touching, it’s funny, and it gets stuck inside your heart. It’s such a shame that the LEGO film franchise is all but dead, because if we had kept getting films like this, children’s movies would definitely be better for it. 

2. Parasite

Everything fantastic about this film has already been said about it by people far smarter than me, so I’ll just say this: it is every bit as amazing as people hyped it up to be. This movie is a biting satire, a laugh-out-loud comedy, and an edge of your seat thriller. It has left an imprint on my brain since I first saw it back in October, to the point where as much as I have tried to analyze and dissect, this film, I don’t know if there’s a single flaw with it, there’s genuinely nothing I would change about this movie. If you see one movie this year, it should be Parasite. 

1. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

In July of 2019, I had to make probably the biggest decision of my (brief) career thus far. I was going to leave my management position at a 24-screen theater I’d loved dearly to go work in an office. I loved everything about the movie theater, I’d worked there for almost four years, but at a certain point it just had diminishing returns. Newer upper management and constant changes coming down from the big-whigs had turned my favorite building into a place I started to resent, a place I didn’t recognize. I tried to fight the change, and re-institute everything I loved about this building that I practically grew up in, but you can’t fight change, and you shouldn’t romanticize the past.  

I’ve never seen these themes more realized in film than in The Last Black Man in San Francisco. It tells the story of Jimmie Fails, a native San Franciscan who has to watch the city he’s loved his whole life descend into a rapidly gentrified hellscape that leaves many homeless and helpless. He often visits his childhood home, a beautiful three-story house with a “witch hat” on top, now owned by an older white couple. This doesn’t stop him from romanticizing the house, romanticizing the past, as he constantly visits and attempts to fix up the house, oftentimes clashing with the current inhabitants. 

This disdain from the couple is an all-too-real parallel message that he’s getting from the city itself: You’re not welcome here anymore. Much as Jimmie has tied his identity to this home, and this city, he is hardly welcome in either. But for one brief instant, he gets to live his dream. The house gets stuck in a familial dispute, causing the older couple to move out. Leaving behind a big empty house that no one is occupying, Jimmie and his best friend Montgomery decide to just move right in, and have their way. They bring in all the old furniture from Jimmie’s childhood, they paint the walls, repair the original woodworking, all in service of Jimmie’s dream to simply exist in this space, and preserve something sacred.

Eventually though, reality comes crashing down, and try as he might, Jimmie can’t stay in the house, and he has to learn a hard truth: you cannot tie yourself emotionally to a physical space. Whether it’s a house, a city, a job, you simply cannot love something that doesn’t love you back. You will get hurt every time. 

But it’s so easy to love. It’s so easy to play the piano in the entranceway of your childhood home. It’s so easy to relax in the sauna upstairs, or smoke on the balcony, or just lay on the floor and admire the witch hat. The Last Black Man in San Francisco makes you fall in love with this house, and with Jimmie and Montgomery, and as much as we see ourselves in them, we too have to learn the same lessons. As much as we want to inhabit a space, and get the fullest potential out of it, you cannot ever stop change, and you cannot stand in the way of it without going insane. 

And maybe it was just because I was going through this personal development the first time I saw this movie, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. It stuck in my brain so much that by the time I saw it a second time, I was a complete mess; I cried four times. I cried for Jimmie, I cried for the house, and I cried for myself. I cried for the things we all lost, the things that would never be the same, and because we would have to learn to accept that. This is what’s so beautiful about The Last Black Man in San Francisco, and on top of the phenomenal acting, emotional script, and gorgeous visuals, it’s what made it my favorite film of the year.  

[worddevdealswithml]

Failed Step 1 (And 2 (And 3))

Chapter 19: Let’s Dance

As she’d seen them put down their cups, and start back towards the dancefloor, Chloe had practically shuddered, as she started moving almost unthinkingly after them.  Technically, she should have thought her actions through, but the impulse had overwhelmed any sense of restraint.

She caught up to them as they were already back on the dancefloor a few feet, and, as they paused for an instant, readying themselves-

“Well…  She seems to be having a good time,” said Marinette, scrolling up through the messages that had gone out to most of the class.

It was coming up on 8, now, and about 10 minutes ago, there had come a rapid barrage of messages, followed by a slow stream, that had gone out to most of the girls in the class, from Rose, who, apparently, was having a great deal of fun watching the festivities.

Alya laughed.  “Fancy clothes, and dancing to follow?  I’m pretty sure that as far as she’s concerned, it doesn’t get better than that.”

Nino came back from the kitchen with a large plate of microwaved pizza rolls.

“What?”

“Rose is watching the rich-people ball,” said Alya.

“Oh, no kidding?”

“She seems to be having the time of her life doing it, too,” said Marinette, “although, I guess it’d be a bit more like one of the times of her life, since… She watches this every year.”

“Oh really?” said Alya, still scrolling, “Oh, Marinette, you did read the bit where she said she’d spotted Adrien, right?”

Marinette looked at her questioningly.

“Yes?”

“And she was talking about how fancy he was, and how…”  Alya trailed off.

“I mean… Yeah, I did see that bit…”

Alya raised her eyebrows.

“And you’re not bolting off to go see how he looks?”

Marinette was silent.

“Did you already check.”

“…Yes.  And I’m really trying not to panic over the New Year’s Dance thing.”

“You know what, girl?  I’m proud of you for that,” said Alya.  “If you want my opinion, people put way too much stock in that kind of thing.”

“Well, maybe Marinette won’t go get some pictures, but I’m definitely gonna,” said Nino, pulling out his own phone.

The other two gave him confused looks.

He shrugged.

“Listen, dudes, if you don’t get pictures of your best friend when he’s in a suit, and put penguin jokes as the captions, are you really friends?”

Alya and Marinette shared a glance.

Nino shrugged.  “I dunno, man. Adrien likes puns, and I know for a fact he thinks the suit they’ve got him in is uncomfortable.  So…  Penguin jokes.”

“I don’t think it’s actually a tuxedo.”

“Possibly off-brand penguin jokes,” said Nino, brow furrowing.

“Well what if we put you in a suit, and let Alya give you a taste of your own medicine?”

“Nah,” said Nino, laughing.  “Put Alya in the suit, put me in a dress.  I can make penguin jokes about Alya, completely avoid return fire, and I’d probably confuse Rose, too.”

Alya laughed, and Marinette shook her head in amusement.

“I think you’re underestimating Rose.”

“Well, definitely the first two things, then,” he said, shrugging.

“I think I could make you forget to make penguin jokes,” said Alya, winking.

Nino nodded his head from side to side. “I’m not seeing a bad outcome here. You’re on.”

“Well, you’re welcome to commission me,” said Marinette.

“Aw, no discount for your friends?” said Alya.

“Absolutely not.  It’s either a gift, or it’s full price.  But I’d be happy to give you some free designs to consider.”

“Hit me with ‘em,” said Nino.

“Alright,” said Marinette, reaching into her bag for her journal, and making a show of taking out a pen.

Carefully, Marinette turned in the journal until she found a blank page.

A few seconds passed, marked only by the sound of pen on paper.

“Hm…” said Marinette, cocking her head, slightly.

“What is it, dude?” said Nino.

She looked up.

“How do you feel about miniskirts?”

--

For Adrien, the hours seemed to drag, on and on.

The speeches, of course, had been basically like being back in school, and frankly, some of it made for an interesting look into the thought processes of some of Paris’ wealthiest people, which, despite being similarly rich, he didn’t usually understand.

Then, of course, the food came around, and unfortunately, wasn’t served buffet-style, however much Adrien wished it was.  It was good food, of course, but after how long he’d been waiting for it, what he really wanted was more food.

It was enough to redouble his wish that he was spending the night with his friends.

Nathalie, of course, was sitting next to him, and if he was unsatisfied after the meal, he had to assume that it was worse for her, since she hadn’t even received a plate.

Then, of course, after the eating, there was about a half-hour where people just milled around, supposedly to talk, but in Adrien’s case, much more to take advantage of the snack bar for all it was worth.

He’d half-expected Kagami to come find him, but either she didn’t spot him, or she wasn’t looking, because he was left blissfully free to consume canapés, crackers, cheese, and all the punch he could get his hands on, and a bit extra for Plagg.  Even Nathalie seemed to be busy carrying around the tablet with his father’s face on it, which meant Adrien had no supervision, for a very limited value of ‘no.’

By the time he turned around, finally somewhere approaching full, it was 9:55, and the band was getting into position.  A space was being cleared for dancing, and Adrien had little doubt that that meant-

“Adrien,” said Kagami, laying a hand lightly on his shoulder.

He stifled a miniature heart attack, as he practically jumped to face her.

He hadn’t had a chance to see her until now, and…

Her dress was a deep, blood red, and she had an immaculately simple black jacket overtop of it, with her family crest done in white on one lapel.

Adrien, as a model, would probably have put her in a suit, if he’d been in charge of deciding, but… Well, it was Kagami, and they had at least given her a jacket.

“Hello Kagami,” he said.  “You look great tonight.”

She smiled, gently.  “You do too, Adrien.”

Adrien might have disagreed, but decided not to, since… Well, what good would it do anyone?

There was a long pause.

“So…  I guess we dance?” he said.

“I assume so,” said Kagami.  “I don’t see why else my mother would require I take lessons.”

Adrien laughed.  “Yours too?  Or… Well, not… Not my mother, but my father.”

“I understand,” she said.

They didn’t start immediately, and Adrien was grateful, even if he didn’t fully understand why.  Maybe Kagami was also a bit uncertain?

And then, finally, as they’d stood there, barely conversing, for almost ten minutes, Kagami finally seemed to reach her tipping point, and took his hand, pulling him in as one song faded out, and another began.

There was a moment’s hesitation as they got ready, which was strange, especially for Kagami, but then…

She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he placed one on her waist, and he caught the tell-tale signs of… disappointment?

He didn’t know why, if she wanted to lead, she hadn’t, but… he also didn’t know why he hadn’t placed his hand on her shoulder first.

Either way…

Adrien couldn’t quite feel good about this.

Of course, Kagami was beautiful, and he really did like her, but…  He knew, guaranteed, that she wasn’t Ladybug, which meant that he was stuck with an insoluble discomfort at how their respective parents were pushing them towards each other.

And, of course, as if that hadn’t been enough, there was the whole significance attached to who you were dancing with at midnight. They said that it was a good sign for your romantic relationship with that person, and Adrien wasn’t sure whether he really felt comfortable with that kind of pressure.

Yet another reason why he’d have preferred to be spending tonight with his friends. Well…  His friends who weren’t Kagami.

But…  Well…  Kagami was his friend, wasn’t she?

There was nothing wrong with dancing with your friend.

Internally, Adrien let out a soft breath, and…

Tried to let go.

Tonight, he got to stay out late. Tonight, he got to spend actual, not-sparring time with a friend.  He got to dance.  He hadn’t had the chance to properly dance since Chloe’s party, which had been a long time ago.

That wasn’t so bad, right?

--

The dancing had started around 10, and Marinette had tried, and failed, to keep herself from getting distracted from her high-stakes game of dominoes.

The problem, unfortunately, was Rose, who had started sending around messages about how great Adrien and Kagami looked as they danced together.

Marinette had looked down one minute, and…  She hadn’t been able to keep herself from checking the live feed.

By the time she’d found the two of them in the crowd, she’d almost missed her turn; Nino had played a jack, which meant that he got to move one of the dominoes to a position of his choosing, regardless of whether it technically should have been useable there.

Marinette was pretty sure these weren’t the standard rules, but took her turn anyway, before almost feverishly checking back in.

They were dancing, but… That didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know.

She checked back in, of course, every few minutes but as the hour faded past, Marinette only succeeded in losing more games of whatever Lahiffe specialty she’d been roped into.

Alya seemed to know the rules perfectly, but as 11:10 came around, Marinette had won exactly none of the 4 games they’d played.

It was at 11:15 that the messages started bombarding her phone again, faster than before.

RL: oh my goddd

RL: guys you’ve got to see this

RL: its amazing!!!!!

Marinette had blinked, but, assuming that Rose had to still be talking about the dancing, she quickly switched apps, and stared at the screen, searching for… Whatever it was that Rose had seen.

She didn’t need to look.  The cameraman had apparently spotted what was going on, and had made the snap judgement to focus on it.

Her eyes widened.

“Dude?  You gonna…  Play?” Nino seemed to trail off at her expression.

Alya leaned over, craning her neck to see the screen.

“So…  wait,” she said, blinking, uncomprehending, at the screen.

Nino, giving up on getting Marinette to play, joined the group.

“Huh.”

--

It was… a few minutes ago.  11:07.

The first, and greatest problem, was that Chloe had been bored.  She had been bored for hours, now, and even her phone wasn’t assuaging that issue.  She hadn’t gotten to talk to Adrien.  She barely knew anyone here.  And, she was a dancer.

That last point, theoretically, shouldn’t have been an issue in the slightest, except for the fact that she hadn’t gotten to show it off, but…

Well, suffice to say that to her own raw discontent, she was on the list of people that Rose’s frankly infuriating messages went to.

Chloe had little patience for Rose on a good day, but today, of all days, when she was gushing about how Kagami and Adrien were ‘walking on air…’  

For one thing, it was downright inaccurate.  Chloe knew ‘walking on air,’ and that was not it. For another, she had stopped mentioning Chloe after, like, minute five of the dinner, which, like…  she deserved a couple extra mentions.

Well…

Hands clenched at her side, Chloe had seen Kagami and Adrien step out of the dance for a moment, presumably to take some drinks.

What she wanted to do was start a fight, but even Chloe, with her raw confidence, knew better; it would be social suicide.

So, what?  What was she supposed to do?

Her neck had to be solid steel, right now, as tense as it was.

And then…

As she’d seen them put down their cups, and start back towards the dancefloor, Chloe had practically shuddered, as she started moving almost unthinkingly after them.  Technically, she should have thought her actions through, but the impulse had overwhelmed any sense of restraint.

She caught up to them as they were already back on the dancefloor a few feet, and, as they paused for an instant, readying themselves-

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice miraculously level, and even.

They turned, in unison, to face her.

It didn’t even sound like her voice.

“Do you mind…?”  She let the question hang in the air, letting the context do her work for her.

The two of them looked at each other.

Chloe’s eyes flicked rapidly between their faces.  Adrien was obviously uncertain, looking to Kagami for advice.

Kagami…  Chloe could practically see the gears spinning behind her eyes, and then…

Almost imperceptibly, she shrugged, in a ‘why not,’ kind of way.

The two of them turned to face her, and Adrien said, a trifle uncertainly, “I… I suppose not?” his hands coming up slightly, ready to dance.

The grin spread across Chloe’s face.

“Good.”

She stepped forward, and placed a hand on Kagami’s waist.

“Let’s dance.”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chisaki, Aizawa, Shinsou with a Healer Fem!S/O who is wronged

Basically, I realised that a lot of my effort was for nothing because a teacher was incredibly mean with me and just did NOT want to pass me, and it made me feel horrible, so hey, why not write comfort stuff so I could feel better?

Chisaki Kai

“Your mark is 3, you failed, go study more and you’ll resit this exam in Summer.” I heard the teacher say with a taunting smirk, looking down at me, letting me to leave the examination room.

I was rooted to the spot, gaping at him like I was a retarded cat, but I just couldn’t understand where I went wrong? Everything I said was textbook-correct...HE wrote the textbook and drew all the sketches at courses...So why was what I said wrong? He said that everything I said was wrong...That it was false information... But how could it be false...If that’s what he taught us?

What...In the world...Is going on...?

With a robotic movement, I somehow got home, back to Chisaki’s basement, without even realising since my mind was still stuck on that moment.

I failed...

I’m a straight A+ student, a Doctor in training and for the first time, that’s what I hear...

How could I fail?

I’ve been studying for so long, with no breaks-

I’ve been drinking 6 coffees per day, lots of pepsi, ate lots of chocolate, just to stay awake this last week so I could study and study- I even went past all the panic attacks I had for the past days, just so I could study for this dissection exam-

Only to get asked 3 things, which I answered easily in the blink of an eye and to be told they’re all wrong and make no sense.

“S/O...S/O...What’s with you?...Answer already...” there was someone trying to get my attention, but all I could hear was an irritating voice that was trying to take me away from my thoughts, so I snapped at them, ready to burn them to crisps with my Fire Quirk.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WA-...Huh? Chisa...Ki? What the...Wait, when did I get here...?” I asked, completely shocked at what was going on, putting out the fire in my hand. “About 10 minutes ago. Why are you crying? Who do I have to kill?” he asked, fire igniting in his eyes. “I’m...Crying...? Mhh...I...I think I need to...Calm down for a bit...See you at dinner...Or somethin’...” I muttered, dragging myself to my room, turning off the blinds to make complete darkness, getting in bed, not even bothering to change into lighter clothes. Instead, I took off my lab coat and screamed in rage as I burnt it and allowed myself to sob myself to sleep, under the covers, my head full of self-depracating thoughts.

When I woke up, it was dark as hell and checking the time on my phone, I realise that in fact, it was midnight, but I’ve been sleeping for more than 24 hours and this was the farthest thing from normal, which made me panic and yelp in shock.

I never realised it before, but this week was so horrible for me since I stressed myself out beyond belief and compromised my health, but now I can feel the terrible headache and the stomach ache, and even worse, the beginning of a new panic attack.

This wasn’t normal...Not okay at all...And for what? For a failure?!

I was so absorbed in my thoughts, again, that I didn’t realise the door opened until a low voice called out my name, which made me jolt and turn to said person.

Again, it was Chisaki, with a tray in his hands.

“Do you need me for something? Files to sign or read? Hacking? A massage?” I asked out of habit, even though I was too exhausted to do either of them. “You idiot, what have you done to yourself? You look like you just woke up from your grave.” he asked, sitting on the bed, putting the tray in front of him. “I feel much worse than you described, but thanks for compliment.” I muttered, trying to laugh, but even for that I had no energy. “So who do I have to kill?” he said, taking off his beak mask. “Mhh...I don’t know, maybe me...I just get get where I went wrong?! I...I’ve been studying so hard...And I get a...A 3 as a grade? I fail with the lowest mark?! Like...Why? Because of some old geezer who looks down on me for being young and he says that everything I say is wrong, even though it’s textbook stuff? Like...What did I do wrong to deserve this, Kai?! Why me?!” I tried to say between sobs, my voice a complete mess, but not as worse than my face, probably. “Come here.” he commanded, to which I could only force myself to crawl next to him, but to my surprise, he...Hugged me. Chisaki Kai had his arms around me, petting my hair and just...Staying there.

“K-Kai...?” I whispered, still in shock. “Tell me his name, and he’s dead. I will not have my fiance have her health put at risk and suffer several panic attacks only to hear that she failed something she is perfect at. You’re going to become an official Doctor and the whole Underground world is going to beg to be treated by you. Now, tell me his name and I will make him suffer for his insolence. Nobody is allowed to treat my Queen with superiority.” he growled, clearly burning with rage, which made my heard skip a few beats, moved by his words. “Thank you, Kai...Thank you so much...I thought I was going insane from this injustice...It hurt so much...And to heart that I f-failed...Urgh...And...I honestly hate coffee, I don’t want to have to drink so much that I’m shaking from it...” I cringed at the memory, only holding him tighter, feeling warm and safe for the first time in a long time.

The whole night he just made sure that I ate properly and slept enough, creating a fixed schedule that he personally attended, to make sure I won’t ruing my health over something so petty, and yet, he also made sure no source of unnatural stress occurred again.

Thanks to that, he went to the teacher, made him change my mark to 100%, to match my other ones, then made the Shie Hassaikai stalk the teacher, made him paranoid, before they captured him and got him to the base, where Chisaki tortured him to death and I got to watch in satisfaction, feeling all the stress go away with each scream of agony, getting filled with complete satisfaction.

Now who failed, bitch?!

Aizawa Shouta

This was it, the most important time for both Aizawa-kun, myself and our friends, the exam day when we’ll finally become Pro-Heroes. Of course, because of our Quirk differences, he and Yamada-kun will be the fighters, while I will be the Healer, making sure everybody is okay. That’s how all good teams were made, for everyone needs a good support!

Giving them both a tight hug, I go, I take a deep breath and go to take my practical exam. I’ve taken several mock exams before, most of them with the sweet Recovery Lady who always helped and encouraged me, and everyone was sure I will pass with flying colours.

The problem was, that as soon as I entered the room, the whole atmosphere changed. Or rather said, the whole room was already filled with an incredibly menacing aura, one which shouldn’t really be around people who are supposed to HEAL others.

My examination lasted about less than 3 minutes altogether, hearing only mocks, jabs and taunts from the examiners, which only made me unable to say anything else in return, my mind blocking completely.

These people were supposed to be Pro-Heroes, people who were just, correct, forgiving and able to give others help and support... So... Why this...?

“Why did you even come here? To show us how you just slacked off and did nothing all years at U.A.? You’re just a lost cause, instead of you, another who truly wished to have a future could have had your place! Get out and only com here when you actually studied anything, otherwise you will never become a Hero, no less one who saves people!”

That’s what I was welcomed out of the room with, and I could only get the hell away from there and reach the closest bench, crying my soul out of desperation.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do? Why such hate?

I just couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell happened?

I didn’t even realise how shaken up I was until I hear someone call my name and I slowly turned my head to look at Aizawa who, despite now showing it, was happy. He definitely passed the exam.

“Congratulations for passing, Aizawa-kun! I knew you could do it, I’m sure you passed with no problems! That’s my Aizawa-kun!” I grinned at him, quickly wiping my tears and jump-hugging him. “What happened to you?” he asked bluntly, keeping me at arm-length, looking straight into my red eyes. “H-Hey, what do you mean? Forget about me! It’s time to celebrate your victory! Ah, I’m sure Yamada-kun passed to! Or should I start calling you Eraserhead and Present Mic, the new and cool Pro-Heroes?” I exclaimed, holding his hands tightly, trying to change the subject. “Tell me what happened. We can celebrate any time, but you’re upset now, not later.” he said firmly, not taking his eyes away from mine. “B-But I don’t wanna ruin your mood, I’d be the worst best friend and girlfriend anyone could have! I want you to be happy and to know that I, too, am happy and very proud of your achievements! So forget about the little things and let’s be happy!” I tried to hype him up, but he only shook his head and guided me back to the bench where he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t be stupid. Sure, I am happy about my achievement, but I can’t be happy knowing my girlfriend cried and I wasn’t there for her. Now, tell me what happened.” he said softly, stroking my hair the same way he would every time I’d need help calming down from a panic attack or sleeping, since I am an insomniac, which made me sigh and defeat and put my forehead on his shoulder, trying my best not to start crying again, and told him everything that happened. “Honestly...I don’t get it...Why such mean words...It was obvious they didn’t want to pass me from the second I got into that room...Like, a younger examiner called the older one, meekly telling him that I was there to be examined, and he snapped at her saying very rudely that I wasn’t tired of waiting or something...And then he just...Got there, looking very intimidating and radiating with superiority...He barely let me saying, most of the words spoken were just jabs at me...And after 3 minutes of that, he just kicked me out of there like I was nothing, saying that...Well...” by this point I was already trying not to let my voice break again, gripping Aizawa’s shirt tightly, which only made him hug me tighter, whispering soothing things into my ear. “Give me a day and I will see how I can solve this. Recovery Girl will be livid when she hears that, there’s no way she will allow her favourite student to be treated so bad.” he reassured me, tilting my face up so I could look at him, to know that he was serious. “Y-You...Think so...?” I whispered, tears forming at my eyes in hope. “That woman would overthrow the Government for you. You’re talented and worked extremely hard, she’s not going to let you be treated like that. You’ll see, don’t worry.” he let out an amused breath, before getting me to get up, wiping my tears with his handkerchief. “Thank you, Aizawa-kun...I’ve no idea what I’d do without your support and help, really...Hehe! Kinda silly...” I said, grinning sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck, when we heard the obnoxious yell of our friend. “Yooooooo! Guess who’s a new Pro-Hero! Oh yeah, this guy!” he laughed, smiling from ear to ear, hugging both me and Aizawa tightly. “Good job, Yamada-kun! I knew you could do it! Ah...! Or should I call you Present Mic from now on~?” I asked, smirking, teasing him and poking his cheeks, like I always used to when he’d get super excited. “Ohhhh yassss! That has such a nice ring to it! And now, we’re the perfect team! Present Mic, Eraserhead and-” he started saying, but was cut off by Aizawa, who looked at me, then with a proud side smile, he said my Hero name.

It had a god damn great ring to it when he said it.

To celebrate, we all went to a pub and had fun the whole night, drinking, playing games, gossiping and just enjoying each others’ existence, happy that, at least for tonight, there were no more worries, and I actually had a chance to become a Healer Hero without having to go through such ridicule again.

Thank you, Aizawa-kun, for always being there for me when I needed you. From now on, please, let me support you as well!

Shinsou Hitoshi

To be explained that I and Shinsou have been best friends since forever and that I always told him he’ll become an amazing Hero, especially with such a brilliant Quirk, is an understandment, because this lavender boi deserves all the love and support in the world.

Now, we’re both in U.A., him in class 1-C and I in class 1-A.

To be fair...It’s rather unfair, I think. It should have been him in the Hero class, not me. He worked much harder against the stigma, and he’s the one wanting to be a real Hero and to save people, not me.

I tried to talk to the higher-ups, but they didn’t allow this student transfer, unfortunately. Of course, he wasn’t jealous or upset about this, and just said he’ll work harder to earn a spot in either Hero classes, so all I could do was support him from now on as well.

He deserves it.

The problem was that by some people, my Quirk was seen as nothing but dull and boring, something so passive that shouldn’t have been in the Hero course, but in some other class where they allowed whimps.

I mean...That wouldn’t have been such a huge problem, if not for the fact that some people found out that my parents were villains and they started hating on me for that, as if I had any choice in that matter.

The only place where I didn’t hear jabs was in my own class, and to be fair, I was rather reserved, not wanting to leave the classroom unless absolutely necessary, or if I had to go home, so I won’t hear any of those things again.

Today again, I was waiting for Shinsou in front of the gate, so we could go home together, just as we always do, when a group of students go past me and start laughing. I try to ignore them and just hang my head, braiding a little tail on my hair and swinging my feet back and forth.

“Why the hell are you even here? You won’t become a hero, that’s for sure. Hell, maybe with some luck you can graduate, but who in their right minds would make a villain’s child a Hero? It’s clear you’ll betray us! And, really? Healing, that’s your power? How pathetic! Why don’t you crawl back under a rock or something?” one of them jabbed at me, but I only looked away. “I mean, you didn’t make it in any of the Hero classes. In fact, you’re from 1-K, Management or something. I don’t see you doing anything heroic, so why don’t you leave me alone?” I mutter, hoping they’d go away, but to my surprise, the one who spoke also got mad and took me by the neck of my shirt shirt, looking very angry. “Listen here, you nobody! If I ever see you around, I’m gonna beat the hell outta ya! Ya hear me?! I’m gonna show ya what people do to villains!” he started threatening, which made me gulp since honestly, I WAS training physically, but the fact that my Quirk was no help in that department wasn’t the best thing to think about. “Yo, dude, the hell are you doing there?” a voice called from somewhere, which made the guy harassing me reply with a curse, which in turn, got him blank-minded, letting go of me, then slapping himself repeatedly. “This should teach you not to bully others, you lowlife. Now leave, all of you.” looking up, I see that my saviour was Hitoshi himself, who looked pretty pissed off. “Hey...Sorry about that. I didn’t expect them to get physical...” I apologised, looking away. “Why are you apologising? It should be them who apologise to you.” he asked, tilting his head like a confused kitten. “You got through all that trouble to save me and even used your Quirk for that...I should have been able to fend them off myself.” I mutter, fumbling with my fingers. “I’m the offense and you’re the healer, I think that went pretty well. Healers are too rare and important in missions so they’ll never be in the front row either way. So...What’s the problem here?” he asked, trying to understand my weird behaviour. “You say that but...Maybe they’re right, in their own way. I mean...Who’d make a villain’s kid a Hero or something? No one’s gonna trust me...Especially for a task like saving people...And? A Healer Quirk in the Hero course? That’s just pathetic...You should have been the one in 1-A, not me. You have much more potential and deserve it, unlike me...” I muttered, looking away, but his response was a sigh and a flick on the forehead, which made me gasp in shock, not having had expected something like that to happen. “If I hear you saying that again, I will personally beat some sense into you. Honestly, what’s with you, anyways? You’re the one always saying I should trust in myself and my own abilities, so now you doubt yourself? And what for, over some brainless guys’ mean words? I’m gonna get in the Hero course and you better be there to wait for me, got it?” he replied firmly, his gorgeous eyes looking straight into my soul. “D-Damn...Shinsou-kun...You can be rather intimidating when you want to be...” I chuckle nervously, knowing I had no escape this and my words won’t be forgotten. “Look...I’m not the best at comforting...You’re much better and in-touch with emotions, so I’ll let you be the boss at that...But even so, stop comparing yourself to others. You are yourself and nobody can compete with that, got it? If you got into 1-A, that was with a reason and nobody can take that away from you. Now...Look at me and show me that smile I fell in love with.” he finished with a smile, his hand on my cheek, raising my face so I’d look at him. “You know I love you, right? You always say what I need to say...Thank you, Shinsou-kun.” I smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “Good. Now then, Aizawa-sensei gave me the weekend off, so I guess it’s date night. I’ll be over at yours by 7 or something. Gotta grab some snacks and video games, after all.” he smirked seeing how my eyes lit up in happiness, forgetting every bad thing that happened today. “R-Really? We didn’t have time for a date night in ages! Ahhh, so cool!! I love you, Shinsou-kun!” I replied in glee, jump-hugging him tightly, kissing his cheek before I hugged his arm so we could walk home. “Heh...Love you, S/O.” he said in a low voice, still smiling and blushing slightly.

Villain or Hero, neither of us cared anymore, it was just the two of us, cuddled in bed, playing video games, surrounded by various snacks and fizzy drinks, making jokes and having fun, like two ordinary teenagers with no worries about the world’s problems.

We are happy.

[alien-at-the-dinner-table]

Roll for Panic Attack

*Trigger warning: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts*

I am afraid of a lot of things. Clowns. Death. Answering the door when i’m not expecting it. Sticking my foot out over the edge of the bed at night. You know, rational, normal stuff. But right now, I'm scared of something that feels like it shouldn’t be as scary as it feels. For the 2nd time in my (albeit young) life, am taking online classes at my local community college. My first time was 2 years ago, and it sent me reeling into a deep depression. As ridiculous as it sounds, I never want to get back to that place. Who would have thought, right??? But im getting ahead of myself, so let me explain the past so one can see where the issues in my grimy future lies.

Sophomore year of high school is where our intrepid young hero begins (read in the voice of Brennan Lee Mulligan: DM to the stars). As anyone in a fiery hellscape would do, I explored a program that gave me a glimpse of freedom: Running Start. In this wonderful program, high school students can attend college classes either online or in person, and not only earn college credit, but can be at the high school less. Great! At first, I thought it would be amazing! I love to learn, and I love not being at the highschool. Suffice it to say, I rolled really low on my perception. But my perception got steadily higher the farther I got in the process of applying. I felt like it might be too much. That I might not be able to handle this. But everyone in my life told me, “you’ll be fine! You’re a smart girl! And your so independent!” So I continued on… feeling like something was off.

Cut to a month before Junior year starts. I feel…. Nothing. I’m bored all the time, and nothing really makes me happy. I’m so scared im going to fail college and it hasnt even started yet… To my family, I am the same. After all, I am used to faking emotions thanks to all those years of thinking panic attacks were SUPER normal right! But I began to explore what was happening. Our hero rolls her dice: 18. I realized something that made me break down in tears of shame. I realized I didnt feel love for my family. I knew I loved them, but I didnt feel anything.What was wrong with me? I tried to imagine horrible fates befalling my family to see if I could muster up some feelings then. No dice. (get it? Dice? RPG’s? Shut up this is comedy GOLD) My sister found me sobbing in the garage. Grabbing my mother, they went to see what was wrong with me. I explained how I was feeling, and even voiced my fear of being depressed. My mom wrote it off as burnout. Which to be fair, I don't blame her for. I had been acting just as I always had.

Skip ahead some more. High school is in full swing, and my college classes begin. Things feel...okay. I was taking 2 classes: General Psychology, and Introduction to Art. Psych was tough, and its reading was intense. 1 page took about 10 minutes, so 6 pages: one hour. The professor thought that because we were online, we needed to make up for being lazy and not going to a classroom. We had around…. 120 pages on a good week. Wanna do the math there? Let me break it down for you: 10 pages=1 hour, 120 pages divided by 6=  hours. About. Add to that the 5 hour assignments every week, 1 hour discussion forums, and hour long tests every week. Our total for this class hours per week: 27. Now, remember, I was also taking highschool classes too, and one other class. Also remember that I was 16. With an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. All it took was a month to break me, and send me hurtling towards depression with all the force and speed of a bowling ball dropped from the top of the Empire State building.

Thanks to my natural ability to repress my emotions and fears, my body decided to send a clear message that something was afoot! I began to get full body HIVES. We went to the doctor, and she basically went, “umm wow, that's definitely an immune system reaction…. But you aren't sick…. And you haven't been sick…. So I don't know why this is happening…” Always what you want to hear from a healthcare professional! So at this point you might ask: did any of this alert you to the fact something was off? No. At this point, I was in complete denial that anything was wrong. Surely getting up in the middle of the night to count pages and double, triple, quadruple check that I had planned every single second of my week was written on my planners pages. What did catch my attention, terrorizes me to this day.

I am religious, and I do my best to pray every night. During this delightful stage of my life, I began to ask God to let me die. I asked that when I went to bed, that I wouldnt wake up. That it would all just stop. That way, I wouldnt keep on down this path, suffering. I thought if I quit, everyone would be disappointed in me. What a waste. How pathetic, right? Of course, this was myself talking. But I wanted to die. I didnt even care if I went to heaven. I thought even if I ceased to exist, it would bring peace. Inkey, dark, peace filled sleep. 

This is what scares me. Because I can never get to that place. I hated myself so much. But what was worse was how I felt about my family and friends. I began to resent them a bit. Just a little. How dare they love me! Why do they have to keep me here? I knew that if I died, it would destroy them. I had no illusions that those I loved would be better off without me. While I thought I would cause them shame and disappointment in life, I knew that in death I would kill them with me. And while I might not have felt love as I do now, I never wanted to cause them pain or suffering. Ever. So here I am now. Better, because I can tell you it can get better. Scratch that, it WILL get better.

And now to the present: a full circle of sorts. I am so scared that this course will be too much, that I wont be a college graduate. Please understand: I honestly thought for a long time that I wasn't going to go to college. Not because I couldnt. But because I didnt see the point, at least for the art fields. And honestly I still do. But I know that even with a stupid certificate that I probably could have taught myself all the same information for a 10th of the price, it will open doors for me. And to be perfectly frank, I want to make my family happy. I want them to be proud of who I am. I want to be proud of myself. To prove that no stupid mental illness will take this away from me. Not again. I know I can pass and even excel in a college environment. In fact, during my tenure at Running Start, I was invited to join the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society.But I want to be able to mentally handle this. I want to be strong enough for ME. I know that finishing this won't make me weak, or if it is too much that it means I am lesser than. But I'm going to try damnit! And if it is too much, then I will stop, or at least work with my therapist to see what would be best for me. 

And so, our hero begins her journey. Roll for Initiative.