#just no sympathy from him whatsoever. he was just a sympathy vampire. he took and took and took and never gave back.

[britneyshakespeare]

re: my last post rambling about my siblings: i also realize of course that not everyone who has siblings has as good a relationship to them as i do, and that can be for any number of reasons, can have any number of resolutions, including just begrudgingly accepting that your sibling(s) are never gonna be the closest people in your life. i talked about how the bond i have with mine is akin to a commitment, because all of us prioritize each other, but i don't mean to make it sound idyllic or like it should be the universal standard. i am lucky but i am not naive. not everyone gets the siblings they would most wish to have, or some people just aren't that close to them and i don't particularly have a blanket judgment to make of that in all cases. however...

that guy i made a bunch of personal posts over the summer about because he was an emotionally abusive friend that i had to cut off, who asserted way too much control over my life, who was guilt-tripping and manipulative and sought to silence me etc etc etc he really was just never very accepting of me for who i was, never expressed interest in anything about me that didn't have to do with him, etc etc etc just that JERK guy who i still have nightmares about a few times a month. it took me a long time to accept that he wasn't just "depressed" and "anxious" but that he was actively using people; he wasn't accepting of harmony but always wanted control over others and their narratives, etc etc etc. there were certain sides of him i didn't see much because i got to know him in a rather isolated way. we had mutual contacts but i never worked with him or had a class with him or really even met him a few times before he started spilling his heart and soul to me privately and said i'm his best friend and i'm the only one who understands and supports him and basically pressured me to make him my project 24/7 and was incredibly disrespectful towards me whenever i asserted my own independence from him or just. wanted to see someone other than him or even just wanted to be by MYSELF. jesus. what a nightmare that guy was. IS, because i know he can't have changed and he probably never will.

THAT guy has a sibling. he has a little brother four years younger than him, and that guy was about two years younger than me. so his brother turned 18 this year. he graduated from high school. his brother is YOUNG, all things considered. and as much as he would constantly pour his heart out and gripe about every person he ever came into contact with (and as much as i now distrust a lot of the information he told me because i know he'll only ever say flattering things about himself and never speak forgivingly or with any nuance towards someone he labels now as "bad", including me)... the only time that i didn't really know how to listen with as open a heart was when he would start talking about how awful his little brother is. i'd be like, ok, so you had terrible friends in high school. all the people in your classes are shitty to you. this person has done you wrong and this person is awful and your parents and your family suck and this and that and this. no one has ever been good to you in your entire life except me? ok.

the ONLY time i was like "i don't know if i can take this at face value, i think you're being too harsh..." is when he would talk about his little brother. because i was like, well, from everything you're telling me, his problems sound like something he can very well grow out of. he'd be like oh he's PRETENTIOUS. lol ok. he's a senior in high school, of course he sometimes acts like he knows everything. why do you act like he's a lost cause? i could also tell that there must've been some personal jealousy in there bc his brother was kind of the "more accomplished" sibling, did better in school, that sort of thing. i don't know what it's like to be an older sibling or to feel like you're living in the shadow of a sibling, especially a younger one, because i've always kind of been on a different path than any of my siblings/there hasn't really been a sense of competition between us. i would try to give him the benefit of the doubt and be like "well i guess i really don't know what that's like" because you CAN'T assume. i give EVERYONE the benefit of the doubt and i try to take people, especially when they're being vulnerable with me, at their word, which is exactly how i got so involved with this guy and ended up being so used by him and under his thumb. horrible. he's a monster. anyway.

and whenever i'd be like "well he's just a kid" to every negative thing he'd say about his little brother, that's when he'd dismiss the subject and stop talking about it. and this isn't something that came up a couple of times but came up a LOT. he'd shit talk his brother to me at least several times a week, always unprompted, because why would i wanna hear someone badmouth a teenager? and it'd always be the pettiest shit. one time he even told me that he noticed his brother didn't come home last night and he didn't know where he was and i was like "oh my god is he ok? that's terrifying" and it's like he did that just so he could tell me "no i don't really care honestly. the two of us aren't close." it's like he wasn't just not-close with this kid but he was obsessed with hating him.

not only did his reasons never seem to satisfy me, but he never seemed to acknowledge that his little brother shared all of the traumas and adverse experiences he grew up with, the discrimination he faced and the familial trauma and the structures of abuse he would tell me about from his parents. he would mention how these are all the problems and the reasons he can't trust people and why he's so fucked up but he didn't seem to have any patience or empathy for someone younger than him brought up in the same exact environment. it's like he wanted his brother to always just fuck off and die.

none of this made any sense to me, it was if anything the BIGGEST sense of confusion i had with him for a long time because i dismissed all the ways he was cruel to *just me* until i started picking up all his patterns and realizing this all WASN'T just how he treats me. HE is the problem; HE is this entitled and controlling and nasty and manipulative towards everyone; HE has no self-awareness or regard for other people. it's not just ME not having the guts to stand up for myself when he made me feel uncomfortable or when i'd feel disrespected by something he said to/about me. he would know when he was saying something unacceptable or losing his temper; he did it with other people all the time. but he isolated and then lovebombed me so hard that i didn't see that this WAS how he treated everyone, but he made me in particular his prey because i was a trusting and trustworthy stranger, rather than someone who had seen him behave in such a way towards other people and could make the informed choice to stay away from him. it was never JUST ME but how could i have known that?? how?? i didnt know anything about his life except what he'd tell me, and he was actively sucking me away from all parts of my life he wasn't involved in, and/or forcing his way into them. there was no space between him and me; my life became his because he hijacked it and then forced me to do all his emotional labor and solve all his problems so i'd hardly have any energy to face my own.

anyway. yeah. it all made MUCH more sense when i realized HE is the problem between him and his brother. that didn't stick out as a red flag because again i'm trusting and i accept all these hypothetically broken or damaged familial relationships people have. HE really wanted me to hate this teenager for no good reason, like he wanted me to hate everyone else in his life that he'd ever decide to cast as a villain. i never understood why the teenage boy. never understood it. i'm like he's just a boy. OH but you're an awful horrible jerk who can't get along with anyone for longer than 2 minutes before you try and take control of everything about them and then lash out if they try to assert their independence. OOOHHH ok i get it now that makes sense. because that's what you've been doing to me all this time ohhh i get it.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 3: The Truth

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

As it turns out the Trinity is still in New York. A desperate Nadya agrees to meet Valdas and his promise of answers, but is she ready for the truth behind her visions?

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya, Lily, and Jax agree to wait until the seventh and final night of Valdas’ offer.

So, naturally, Nadya goes the night before on her own.

The vampire watches her with an uncomfortable curiosity. It doesn’t carry the usual weight of immortality she associates with him. A year ago he moved like every limb was dragging Atlas’ burden by iron chains but now he’s… well he’s just different.

“You know, I was convinced you would wait until the last day to come.”

Nadya shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “I can go if you want,” though she really can’t and hopes he doesn’t take her up on it, “and come back tomorrow.”

“No no, that isn’t what I meant at all. I’m merely surprised. Help remind me to ask for cash back when we’re finished here, would you? I owe Isseya a few hundred for the bet.”

There’s something just… so wrong about a man over two thousand years old talking about ‘cash back.’  Maybe that’s why Kamilah always insists on paying where Nadya can’t see.

But the mention of his partner makes Nadya uneasy. They’ve always been joined at the hip. “She won’t be joining us?”

Valdas shakes his head. “No, not tonight at least. I thought it best we keep this an intimate affair.”

“Ew.”

He gives her a chastising look but says nothing more on it.

Nadya doesn’t know what she was expecting; what she would have done if she had waited for her friends to come along as backup, or if she’d sucked it up and told Adrian and Kamilah about going behind their backs in the worst way. It’s not hard to imagine their looks of disappointment.

Even not knowing what to expect, though, didn’t mean Nadya had prepared herself for a place that’s actually kind of cute. An inside that smells like fresh coffee grinds and vanilla and a surprisingly decent bit of sidewalk real estate gated off with a wooden fence painted glossy black.

Not that any of that eases her worry. She’s prepared herself for the worst — tenses up at every passerby, catches herself halfway reaching for the stake in her purse when the vampire across so much as shifts in his seat.

Only Valdas is the epitome of a gentleman. He plays the part he’s dressed for almost too well. Still, Nadya reminds herself not to be fooled, not even for a second. She’s seen what he can become; what he can do. Sometimes she still tastes Vega’s ashes tickling at the back of her throat.

He glances up at the strings of yellowed lights crossed aimlessly over their heads. “It’s a rather charming place, wouldn’t you say? And, I hope, agreeable to your anxieties. Though I wish you would have let me take you somewhere —”

“Somewhere what,” interrupts Nadya; words bursting with accusation, “somewhere secluded and private, or with leather and torture devices?”

Valdas raises a single dark eyebrow in an ‘are you quite finished?’ way and no, she’s not — not by a long shot. But she’s willing to admit (silently, to herself, not out loud whatsoever) she might be making it worse for herself at this point.

Especially when he answers.

“Somewhere proper; with enough courses to get us through what I’m sure will be a difficult if enlightening conversation for you and I to have, Nadya.”

Yeah, especially then.

“Oh. No — this is fine.”

Someone clears their throat behind her; makes Nadya almost jump out of her seat in a heart attack. The barista does his level best not to laugh at her while he adjusts his tray bearing a steaming mug on a saucer and a plate of tiny finger sandwiches. “Oh, we didn’t —”

“Here will be fine,” Valdas pushes his folded newspaper aside, “thank you.”

He’s young; one of those obviously-New York types with several studs in his ears and a streak of blue in his blond hair, and likely a long-time server judging by the way his face goes red at Valdas’ simple act of common decency. Run, she wants to shout because she’s seen that darkly alluring smile before and nothing good can come of it, run while you still can.

Instead Nadya mouths a voiceless thanks. They are left alone.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I took it upon myself.”

“But you didn’t know which night I would show up.”

“Indeed. After the third night they knew my order by heart.” He glances appraisingly towards the inside cafe — Nadya on the other hand can’t focus on anything but their reflections in the glass. “It’s hard to find attention to detail like that these days outside of hired help.”

With pursed lips Nadya pushes the latte away. “You really shouldn’t have. I can’t —”

“It’s soy milk, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Uhm, what? Yeah — only one of them finds her surprise funny and hint; it’s not Nadya.

“At the Awakening Ball, shortly after our first introductions. You were rather loudly threatening Raines and Sayeed with what I believe was a platter of artisan cheeses?”

“That’s… very diligent of you.” Creepy. It’s creepy. It’s so so freakin’ creepy.

Valdas gives a soft snort of amusement. “I’m old, Nadya, but not antiquated. In fact I’ve been looking for someone to discuss the latest season of The Crown & the Flame with, should you have time after our business is concluded.”

“That’s not —” This is so getting out of hand; more than that its wasting time.

She can’t let this chance slip through her fingers. “What are you trying to do? I didn’t come here to have small talk or drink coffee or talk TV, and I’m pretty dang sure that’s not why you invited me but if it is then tell me now because I don’t have time for it.”

“Very well,” he says just a little too flippantly for her growing irritation, “I thought you might be more comfortable this way. I apologize.”

“Apology only accepted if you start talking.”

The vampire leans forward a little too quickly for Nadya’s liking. All that arrogance, immortality; suddenly so plain on his expression he might as well have ‘VAMPIRE’ painted on his forehead.

It takes everything in her not to move away.

So many questions and now she can finally get her answers. But it leaves Nadya a bit stalled on where to start. But Valdas stays eerily patient.

Okay, big questions. “Am I dying?”

“You’re mortal, you are dying from the moment you’re birthed.” Which is not the answer Nadya’s looking for and he knows it. “But no, not more than any other.”

“Do you plan on killing me?”

“No; you are far too valuable for that.”

“What does that mean?”

Valdas carefully chooses every word to answer; “It means… that we are very happy you are alive, Nadya.” And his not-answers feel a little too close on the family tree to Nadya’s mostly-truths.

Though if he thinks she missed that “we” thing he’s very much mistaken.

“So my nightmares, what exactly are they?”

He’s too casual — plucking one of the sandwiches on the tray and nibbling it idly. Nadya entertains the image of her throwing it in his face… it’s a nice one.

“Nightmares, you say? So the visions only come to you when you sleep?”

“Visions?”

“Visions, mental images, nightmares — name them what you will but they are the same thing. Events you never witnessed, lives you never lived…”

“People I’ve never killed?”

The words come out of her so scared, so broken; and Nadya’s almost angry for it. A sound so pitiful that even Valdas — the same man who threatened Jax so easily, hurt Adrian and Kamilah so easily, killed Vega so easily — lets sympathy slip through the seams of him.

“And those, yes. They are all a part of you; they have been all your life even if you were once unaware, and they will remain that way from this day to your last day.”

Nadya shakes her head so hard it hurts. “No. No way I — I can’t feel like this forever. I won’t survive it. I… I won’t. I feel less and less like me every time I wake up. There won’t be enough of me left.” I worry there isn’t enough already.

And he really sits there without an answer for her? Two thousand years and this is all he’s good for; making her feel like her life is already over? What good is it to live for so freakin’ long if it can’t help her; save her?

“What did you do to me,” it feels good to ask; really good — better than she’s felt in a while, “why did you do it? How do I stop it, or make it hurt less, or make it happen less, or —”

“Forgive me —” —she doesn’t— “— but… you believe I am somehow responsible for these visions? When I just told you they were yours from your first breath.”

“Well what else am I supposed to think?” Nadya snaps. “My head almost explodes, you do some weird psychic mojo that makes it better but also makes it worse, and the last thing your bonkers girlfriend—who conveniently isn’t here—says to me is “enjoy my gift?” I gotta say — that all seems pretty freakin’ responsible to me!”

The last time she raised her voice at Valdas, Nadya had Kamilah and Adrian combined to back her up. Yet here she is, no immortality at her back, and honestly she doesn’t even care.

“I am scared, okay? So, so scared — scared enough that I’m doing stupid things that I know I shouldn’t be doing, lying to the people I love, going behind their backs and putting myself in danger and you know why?”

“Because fear is an irrational motivator.”

“Shut up. It’s because I would do all of that again and again and again if it helps me find a way to make this stop. If it takes away all of these horrible feelings that aren’t even my own and… and stops tearing me up inside.”

Who are you, Nadya asks herself, because they may be her words in her voice but they’re so wrong — so not Nadya. And that just adds onto her already existing fear.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

Valdas waits until Nadya catches her breath; until he can hear the slowing down of her heart. “Are you quite done?”

“I dunno,” her face is still flushed, “but… sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“For telling you to shut up.” Because she’s pretty dang certain if anyone else had tried that they wouldn’t have gotten to finish saying their piece.

But she did. Valdas let her get it out until she was pink in the face and more than a little hot under her coat collar despite the bitter night breeze. Why?

“No one should ever feel the need to apologize for their grief.”

Nadya glances up from her white-knuckled hands; but Valdas isn’t there — not mentally, anyway. His focus is far off and distant… millennia away. “Grief is a complex thing felt in complex ways. It kills us inside… but the pain of it is proof we are alive, too.”

“I’m not grieving though. I can’t grieve. I have to hope there’s a way to fix it.”

“If my efforts to ebb the storm still leave you this way Nadya, I must admit I’m doubtful of it.”

How is it something so bleak leaves her so breathless?

“What do you mean,” she chokes out, “what—what efforts?”

“The ones you would so quickly write off as malice. Though I suppose I’ll give you one thing — my beloved Iss’ has a knack for making most things sound malicious.”

“That’s an understatement…” and apparently the only bad thing he’ll ever say about her, “so—so wait. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Valdas does the decent thing and turns his face away, but that doesn’t mean Nadya misses the color me surprised raised brow.

“Psychic prominence can be innate, yes, but when you reach a certain age most talents are easily learned. I had hoped the web I was allowed to spin in your mind that night at the Musea Sanguis would hold long enough to bring us to this point naturally. Sadly this was not the case.”

He offers his hand out palm-up between them. He could just as easily take what he wants from her but no, he’s offering.

And the more she thinks about it the more Nadya realizes Valdas had done the same that night. “I thought… when I touched this—this column I could’ve sworn I… that something to do with you had…”

Valdas nods with growing understanding.

“Well that’s to be expected. When psychic abilities grate up against one another it’s a bit like grit-paper on stone; the outer layer of the stone crumbles into a fine powder, yes? The influence that was being pressed unto you turned you into the grit — the rest of the world; your stone.”

“So it’s all in… in touch?” Nadya looks down at her hands as she asks.

“No, but given the borders of your capabilities…” The curl of his fingers draws them both down to watch. “Physical contact is a tether in any instance. But objects have memories just like people do, Nadya. And we vampires are an odd in-between of the two.

“I could show you — if you wish.”

Their fingertips couldn’t be more than four—five inches apart. But to Nadya it looks like miles; like ages stretching out across the tabletop.

Two thousand years of history, of life; of love. And the very idea of inducing this terror upon herself has Nadya actually questioning her sanity — and rightly so. But there’s a power in it, too; in controlling it, not letting it control her.

The last of her reservations are dashed when her mind unhelpfully supplies the memory of Kamilah in the penthouse kitchen — hands hesitant to hold her, to hurt her; fear hidden in the familiar dark of her eyes, fear both of and for Nadya. Because she’s not torturing herself enough already, apparently.

“You don’t have to. The choice is yours.” Really though — is it?

No. “No, it’s not.”

Nadya sucks in a deep breath and dives in headfirst by giving Valdas her hand.

In his dreams they do this bathed in sunlight. But dreams are for the young and the innocent. He is the Made-God Valdemaras and he is neither.

The rapier catches in the grooves of his vest and bends dangerously close to snapping. Behind him, Isseya laughs giddy and without care.

“You know, you really should be cheering on your Maker, darling girl.”

Valdas rounds on her but she meets him petulantly prideful. “Should I? Lucky for me that I am free to champion whomever I wish.”

“Fair enough. I would champion him too, if I could.”

They both look to watch him pull the ribbon from his hair; it falls damp around his shoulders — little golden wisps clinging to the sweat on his forehead. The exhaustion of his efforts flashes bright in the deep red of his eyes but his smile is as unwavering as his beauty.

“I’m flattered, truly,” Cynbel croons to the pair of them, “but that would leave me with no one worthy of a good spar and you know how troublesome my spells of boredom can be.”

Likely that he thinks the wink he gives their girl is a charming one. But taken with him as they are their love does not blind them — not anymore.

“Indeed.” Valdas clicks his tongue and begins to undo the clasps of his suit. “But that is enough sparring for tonight, I think.”

“And what of my prize?”

Before he can say another word strong arms embrace him close; hold him in the rough-hewn fingertips that claim Valdas’ body as easily as they cradle it. When he looks up it’s to the familiar sight of adoring eyes; of endless devotion.

As if the kiss Cynbel steals from him doesn’t say as such enough on its own.

“Satisfactory?” Valdas asks his Golden Son — though he already knows the answer.

“Rather I would call it divine.”

He decides he will commit this, right here, to the parts of his memory that will never wane with the ages.

At the very least he is owed that. They all are.

Nadya and Valdas realize it at the same time. The trembling of their joined hands isn’t Nadya’s fault at all, but rather the rarest and greatest slip of the vampire’s composure.

But he doesn’t let her go. He can’t, she accepts solemnly, because this wasn’t about showing me anything. It was about seeing.

It was about him.

So Nadya spares him the indignity and brings her hand back to rest in her lap. Valdas startles as if from a deep sleep; runs his hands over his face and Nadya can’t help but hurt for him as she watches that careful mask slide back into place.

“Forgive me,” he clears his throat abruptly, “I wasn’t expecting you to be this, ahem, advanced — for you to be able to project the, erm —”

“‘No one should ever feel the need to apologize for their grief.’”

The vampire focuses on her sharply — the look he gives her makes her feel complex and worth studying. Or maybe she’s just feeling him still; feeling the things that break his heart with every passing day. When he realizes then that she’s sincere — that Nadya repeats his earlier sentiments because she believes they will heal him somehow — he visibly eases.

“You are wiser than your years, you know.”

“Lately they aren’t exactly my years though, are they?”

In her lap Nadya digs around in her purse and pulls out a small journal. Even just the sight of it makes her queasy but she has no one to blame but herself. When she tries to toss it down between them Nadya finds her grip only tightening — her fear of its discovery so innate she has a hard time letting it go even willingly.

Valdas sees this and reaches out; strangely careful to avoid touching Nadya directly as he pries it free. “What is this?”

“A journal.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He begins flipping through the book; eyes roaming over Nadya’s neat scrawl. Page after page of it; filled from top to bottom in various colored pens and then some. Tabbed notes and scribbled margins — but the closer he gets to the end the more chaotic the entries become.

Careful recall hours later turned into hasty ramblings in the throes of panic. The ravings of a mad woman.

“I don’t always remember,” explains Nadya, “but I write down what I can.”

“What you can remember?”

“What I can stomach.”

If anyone understands it would be him. He’s practically dripping in blood; it oozes from his pores just like his infallible persona. And Nadya hates that she knows this with certainty.

Valdas stops on a page near the end; leans forward intensely as he tries to decipher her cursive’s best impression of wet noodles. Do you know how hard it is to write with gel pens, hands shaking and slippery from sweaty palms, in a blacked out room when you can’t tell the difference between the pages and the bodies piling up before your eyes?

Pretty freakin’ hard.

The way he reads it though — like some riveting tale to stand the test of time. In a way it does, maybe. “I was here for this,” and he sounds a little too amused for her liking; nothing in that awful book is amusing, “we all were, even dear Kamilah. From the tone with which you write I would say this is the petit Lafayette’s account of the siege of his township.

“You write with great passion; ever considered a career in fiction?” He pushes the journal back her way with a single finger. Nadya practically snatches it up to be buried back in her bag. Underneath the work notepad and pens, her glasses case and the stake she is never without.

Only when her secrets are six feet under does Nadya relax.

“I wouldn’t dream of exposing the world to those terrible things.”

“The world has already been exposed to them.”

“Well I shouldn’t have been, but I didn’t really get the chance to choose did I?” Nadya stares at him hard. Valdas has the good sense not to justify a reply.

Already the city is well into bed with the night around them. The cafe window bathes the pair and the sidewalk in soft yellowing light but directly across the street neon pinks and blues flicker out of the corner of her sight.

How long have they been here, she wonders, but can’t muster up the courage to look at her phone. They have to know by now; they have to. Lily’s probably already GPSed her and they’re all on their way, crammed into Jax’s fake plumbing van, ready to jump out and hog tie Valdas while shoving a dirty rag into his mouth… actually maybe he’s on to something with this ‘fiction writer’ idea.

“Why didn’t I get to choose, Valdas?” Because he’s old — he’s so old which means he has to know. He has to. That’s why she’s here. That’s why she’s risking everything to be here.

“Rarely are we given the opportunity to choose our own destiny.”

“But it’s possible, right?”

He gives a reluctant nod. “Yes… for others. But not for you, Nadya. I would have thought this, here—tonight—had given you clarity of that.”

Clarity? More like the exact opposite. Nadya feels deeper in the fog than ever and that’s just fact. But is it so wrong for her to hold out even a crumb of hope?

Valdas sees this — her resistance — and maybe he even admires her for it. The man lifts his hand and Nadya readies herself to flinch away—don’t touch me pleasedon’ttouchme I don’t want to see any more please—but he hovers it just shy of her skin. So close he can feel the heat of her cheek against his palm.

“It’s unfortunate what little control you did have was taken from you so soon.”

“I don’t understand.”

His brow furrows. “I said as such, remember? You were always meant to walk this path but Jameson’s influence sped the world up beneath your feet; sent you along farther than you were meant to be.”

Shut the front door.

Nadya recoils so hard her chair legs scrape against the concrete loud and jarring. Suddenly all the little beautiful things around them — the lights, the baristas winding down inside, even the people just passing by beyond the gate — seem dull; lifeless.

“Ja—Jameson? What are you talking about?”

He had even agreed with her: it made sense to think Valdas was the one doing all the pulling of the strings. But okay — so it isn’t him. Jameson, though? “Jameson. Jameson, Jameson. Like the weird little librarian guy; the one from Adrian’s trial. That. Jameson.”

“Yes…” answers Valdas, and Nadya really isn’t a fan of how hesitant he says it, “He’s the only prominent psychic in the country. Moreso than myself, even.”

Holy… crap. Totally not a conclusion she would have even put under the ‘Extremely Unlikely Possibilities’ category — like at all. But the wild thing is the more the idea has time to marinate the more Nadya’s starting to get it. The more she’s starting to believe him because somehow it makes… sense?

“No,” no, remember who this is, remember how he lied so easily and condemned Adrian to death, “no no, that’s not… he’s a member of Kamilah’s clan!”

Which apparently is news. “Is he really? That’s surprisingly deceptive of him.”

Surprisingly deceptive. Ha!

This is too much to process. Nadya’s still reeling — she’s still him in a way, still feeling the pressure of his eternal life crushing her own heart in a stone grip. It doesn’t make sense and it also makes total sense; she just isn’t certain which one of them is real.

That doubt screams at her through the pain still growing. How dare you trust him, it growls; a monster hiding under the bed, after what he did to Adrian, after what they did to Adrian, to Kamilah, to you! Are you really so desperate and so far gone?

Of course she remembers his lies. So easy and flawless and done on the thinnest whim because of what — a rumor; a ghost hidden behind another man’s face? The pain he’d caused them all…

“You can’t expect me to trust you.”

“Perhaps not ‘expect’ so much as hope I’ve proven enough to you tonight that such trust comes willingly.”

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” She bites the words off her tongue in chunks of anger; frustration. “Or is it that you think I’m still just some dumb human who will believe the scary old vampire without even a question otherwise.”

“Quite the opposite. I think you resilient, resourceful, and yet reticent to act on impulse — when you’re of sound mind that is.”

“So you’re calling me nuts.”

“I’m saying the fault isn’t yours. And if you’re still hesitant to believe me then there’s a very simple way to prove the truth.”

The second time Nadya holds his hand is much less reluctant. Maybe part of her wants to get it over with. Maybe whatever’s left hopes she’ll find something wrong in him; his intentions. Like a validation.

She squeezes so hard it hurts her palm but what is feeble mortal strength compared to, well, him? And…

“Nothing?”

He keeps them connected — really just completely dedicated to this whole proving himself trustworthy thing, apparently. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

But really; there’s nothing. Not the low-key anticipatory bombardment of visions and the feelings that come with them. Not voices or sensations that aren’t her own. And not even some weird warm glow of altruism either.

It’s comforting as much as it is worrisome but in the absence Nadya realizes just how tired she is.

“You’ve helped me, tonight.” There are so many things to tell Kamilah, Adrian. Finally a step closer and she gets to rub being right in their faces on top of it. “Really… really helped — maybe more than you know.”

His chin raises slightly. “Is that a ‘thank you?’”

“It’s a question.”

Why did you do it?

Valdas’ thumb tickles the bare skin of her wrist in gentle motions. It’s intimate — weirdly so. Which means Nadya is completely justified when she takes her hand back.

Until he squeezes tighter, that is.

“This was the last act of my own free will. Perhaps not forever—hopefully not forever; I’ve had quite a few forevers already and they are dreadfully long.”

Nadya tugs again in vain. It’s like a completely different man sitting across from her, now. Darker; deeper and digging deeper still. She doesn’t want to dig deeper, though, but the longer Valdas holds on the more the choice is taken from her.

Another thing taken from her.

Her voice cracks slightly. “Valdas… please let me go.” They’re still out in the open air but it breathes heavy and stifling in her lungs. Reeking of dust and mothballs and other old, ancient things.

It’s the Musea Sanguis all over again. The onyx coffin that haunts her nightmares — the ones that belong solely to Nadya Al Jamil.

She meets Valdas’ eyes and the fathoms of them are too many to count.

“I wanted to help you, Nadya. I wanted this, the act before the sin, to be one that mattered — one that meant something.”

“W-What sin?”

“Forgive me.”

“Val—”

He’s holding her too close — Nadya can’t pull back far enough. But someone, probably Kamilah — definitely Kamilah, should be proud of her that she struggles every moment.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I wish that were the case.”

All the way up until his fingertips brush her temple and the world goes dark.

LINEHERE

In between waking and being awake there is a place where all is calm and well. Where she feels safe and warm and at peace. How often does she get that these days? Is it any wonder she clings to it desperately?

Long fingers brush through her hair. There is a warmth about them, even dark as they are — even though they haven’t seen the sunlight in so many years.

Lost, lonely — yet they comfort her even now.

Nadya opens her eyes and the first thing she sees is the shifting canopy of leaves overhead. No—not leaves. Dark green fabric, sheer and draped around the four posters at each corner of the bed and over her head like an old ritual dance. One that called upon forgotten things and spoke in relic tongues. She can taste the words of them; bright mint and heavy sage. All she need do is open her mouth.

“Ssh… not yet, my darling.”

The hand slips from her hair and Nadya keens at the loss. Turns towards where the touch might have come from like a child comforted in a storm.

The woman beside her has been wandering the dark for so long. Nadya can smell crisp groundwater on Her skin; salt on the back of Her tongue. The rich caramel of Her covered in the brightest white she’s ever seen.

“I’m scared,” Nadya tells Her. Is it possible to know a stranger all her life?

Perhaps it is. Just as it’s possible for the woman to laugh above her, face just out of sight, and for it to sound like every song she’s ever known or loved and also like nothing she’s ever had the luck to hear before.

“I know. But you must be brave.”

“I’m tired of being brave.”

“I was, too,” Nadya sighs as she feels an arm come around her shoulders; strong and more certain than she’ll ever be, “but that does not mean your trials are done. Be brave for yourself; and be brave for the both of us.”

She’s about to protest when the door opens on the other side of the room.

Nadya sits upright at the sound; fights through the waves of nausea and vertigo that wash over her and blind her with colorless spots of light behind her open eyes. She reaches out — waits for the stranger woman’s touch — but it doesn’t come.

When she can see everything right again Nadya doesn’t understand why she was waiting for someone there, anyway. The bed is barely rumpled. She’s alone.

“Ease yourself, Nadya. Your heart sounds like a racehorse.”

Oh, hell no.

She doesn’t have to see him to know the dark figure that watches her with the closed door at his back.

Valdas crosses the room in several long strides and holds something out to her. She knows the glint of her glasses in the otherwise dim light and snatches them from him; but tosses them onto the bedspread to be abandoned.

She doesn’t want to see him; the false sympathy in his eyes. He’s lied to Nadya enough already.

“Where am I?”

“Putting your glasses on might help.”

“I don’t want to look at your face.”

Valdas sighs. “Nadya…”

“Don’t you dare,” the rage that seethes from her clenched teeth surprises them both but gotta say — Nadya’s kind of a fan of it, “don’t. you. dare say my name like that. When you…”

She looks around again. Tries to keep dignified through wide eyes even though everything is a blur. Now it’s the principle of the thing. She can just make out the cut frame of the door beyond him.

Nadya spreads her fingers out on the coverlet like she’s searching. Can’t see Valdas’ face but she knows—she knows him maybe a little better than she knows herself right now. Just like she knows when he thinks he realizes what she’s doing and reaches out to grab them; to help her.

She clutches a blind hand desperately around the tassel of a pillow and whips it at his face as hard as she can.

“Asshole!”

The pillow does about as much damage to the millennia-old vampire as, well, a pillow would. But it gives her an opening and Nadya takes it.

Launches herself from the bed and hits the ground running; stumbling — her depth perception absolutely shot — but clear of him and with the black seam of freedom just barely in her sights.

It takes two steps for her to feel an ironclad weight clasping around her arm to pull her back.

“No—no nono!” Nadya screams; struggles against Valdas’ hold but the vampire is too strong. She might as well be trying to tear down a skyscraper with her bare hands.

He wraps both arms around her middle and knocks the breath from her lungs. But desperation — it’s a funny thing. Gives Nadya just that little kick of adrenaline she needs to keep fighting even if she chokes on every effort.

“Please stop this,” he growls in her ear, “the only one you’re hurting is yourself!”

“You’re insane. You’re a psychopath!” I’m a fool for trusting you.

“Nadya I can explain —”

“Don’t wanna hear it! Guh— lemme go!”

“I was the lesser of two evils I assure you!”

“Bull!” She pops her ankle and feels it collide between his legs with a fleeting satisfaction. Valdas crumples slightly, hisses at the pain that lances through him. Just enough for her to pry free and make another, equally mad dash for freedom.

The moment Nadya clutches at the door handle it jerks open; sends her flying backwards where she collides painfully with the rug.

“Grief, Valdas, she’s a fucking human child. How hard can it be?”

She almost doesn’t recognize Isseya at first — the proud woman of the abyss Nadya had last seen in the Council Chambers barely even a shadow flickered on her face.

In the time it takes the other vampire to assess the situation, though, Nadya is already scrambling ready to crawl her way out if that’s what it will take.

Valdas growls around his injury. “Iss’—”

“Yes yes, I’m not a fool.” Then Nadya screams, loud as she possibly can — tries to tear through the claw raking its way through her hair such a violent touch where was the kindness of the dark from before but it hurts too much too much and no matter how hard she hits Isseya’s grip doesn’t let up in the slightest.

She yanks Nadya up by her hair like a puppet on strings. “And I think you’ll find it a little bit harder to incapacitate me in such a way.”

“Let me go!”

“Need I even humor that with an answer?”

Valdas comes into view through the pain prickling at the edges of her vision. “Let her go, beloved.”

Behind her Isseya’s voice drips with irritation. “But —”

“Isseya. You know our orders.”

“Well I’ve harmed more than a few hairs on her head. Better to ask forgiveness, no?”

“No.”

Finally she’s released and the suddenness of it sends Nadya flying forward. Her hands and knees burning against thick wool fibers everything blurrier than blurry from the tears and she tries not to think too hard about the hairs she had felt torn from her head.

But, really, it’s her fault in the end — for thinking it was gonna be that easy.

When is anything ever that easy?

“Are you mostly unharmed?”

His legs come into her smudged view before Nadya can even blink. Valdas reaches out a hand in offering; she smacks it away instead. “Like I’d fall for that twice,” she mutters ragged; feels the last breaths of her screams for help itching in the back of her throat but knows, ultimately, they’re of no use. Standing alone is an effort but she manages it because she will not look weaker than she already is.

“Am I…” Nadya’s scoff is a bitter surprise in her mouth, “are you really doing this right now? Good vampire, bad vampire?”

“You think this is bad, just wait until the appetizer,” says Isseya — too close says Nadya’s entire nervous system and every hair on the back of her neck; has her jumping back but that puts her closer to Valdas and crap on a cracker they have her pinned.

“The appetizer being me, I’m guessing?”

To her surprise, the vampiress laughs. “No, I’d be looking forward to the evening far more if that were the case.”

The evening. It has Nadya running across the room to the large fuzzy shape of floor-to-ceiling curtains. There’s no way — absolutely no way it isn’t dawn yet.

And she’s kind of right. But this is one of those situations where that means about as much as being wrong.

The sherbet gradients of the setting sun bring a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. “It’s been… a whole day?” And they haven’t come for me? Not Adrian, not Kamilah… nobody?

Valdas, ever vigilant of the sun, is careful as he comes up beside her. Nadya’s glasses catch the light in his hand.

He almost sounds relieved when Nadya finally takes them, practically crushing the lenses against her face. “I confess I had hoped extending our evening would give them time to find you. But the years have made your friends soft and trusting.”

“What does that mean?

Isseya comes around to join them — awkward, all of them, too domestic for the pain she still feels at her failed escape — and keeps to the shadows too as she sits. She nods to the window. “Open your eyes, see for yourself.”

Nadya has to shade her eyes with her hand to see much of anything. Wherever they are there aren’t any buildings to block the path of light.

When the garden finally comes into view down below Nadya chokes on her own breath.

It takes a bit of searching but she finds the bridge and familiar pond just at the edge of her window’s view. It had been over a year now but suddenly it feels like no time has passed at all; like the Ball is still in full swing and she’s still Cinderella before the apocalypse.

At least she knows where she is now. Upstate New York; five hours’ ride by old-fashioned locomotive. She remembers the journey to Marcel’s castle and the Awakening Ball like it was yesterday.

[ilosttrackofthings]

winsome + biospecialist

A fic that has nothing at all to do with tonight’s episode.

Jemma’s fatherwarned her about fairies. A young girl with a gift (simpleintelligence, she always reminded him; it’s not as though she canmove objects like Skye or talk life into machines like Fitz) growingup on the edge of the woods, it was important she learn early how toprotect herself from the beautiful predators hiding in the shadows.

Those lessons serveher well in SHIELD. She knows not to trust the flicker of aflashlight when what’s left of Tobias Ford is stalking through the Bus. She resists theurge to smell the beautiful, unique flowers they find every time theyjust miss catching Raina and instead uses her iron-tipped tongs todrop them in evidence bags. And no matter how relieved she is comeevery reunion in the days following the uprising, she stops herselfbefore rushing to embrace her friends.

“It’s okay,”Skye says when she hesitates halfway through a worried order that Ward take off his shirt so she can see what he’s managed to do inaddition to the facial injuries. “I already asked him how manytimes I beat him at Battleship.”

The look on Ward’sface is as good a confirmation as the correct answer would be. No oneelse could look quite so annoyed and yet charmed.

The test is thestandard whenever there’s the chance someone’s been replaced byor is under the control of something unholy. Jemma herself forcedFitz to confirm his identity after their reunion at the Hub and then returned the favor despitehis protests there was no need that she prove herself. With the revelation that an ancient death cult has beenslumbering in SHIELD for decades, one can’t be too careful.

“Right,” shesays, “let’s see the damage.”

Ward obliginglysits on the stool she’s already brought out for him, just asCoulson and May enter from the back. It’s a lucky thing as hissudden interest in them means his back is to her when he finally doesremove his shirt. She feels suddenly sick. There are bruisesaplenty as well as the telltale burn of magic along his ribs.Something powerful attacked him—and it doesn’t take someone ofher intellect to guess who that was.

“Garrett?”Coulson asks, his voice heavy with sympathy.

Ward confirms itwith a nod and then offers Trip the consolation of second-handrevenge. “I put two bullets in his skull. Cold iron. One for you,one for me. If that doesn’t keep an old necromancer down…”

A shiver ofchildish fear runs up Jemma’s spine and she hurries to begin theexamination. It’s silly. They’ve encountered wraiths and vampiresand an honest to goodness goddess in the last year, but there’ssomething about the Clairvoyant, a man who’s given himself overfreely to the darkness her father used to warn her away from, that’salways struck her as unnerving. Knowing his identity—and that he’sdead—does little to mitigate her unease.

She’s stillfeeling it later when Ward finds her at Providence’s border. Onthis side, it’s a pleasant winter day. Beyond the wards,however, the air is biting, the cold so thick it was like wearingweights trudging through it in their search for this place. Justlooking at the trees sends sharp daggers into Jemma’s lungs. Whichis why Ward’s approach takes her by surprise: her eyes were closed.

“You took thatinvitation to explore and ran with it, huh?” he asks by way ofhello. Of course he catches the way she snatches her hand back fromthe open air. Of course he realizes it was just hovering there previously, doing nothing at all. “There’s no shame in that, youknow,” he says, his voice gentle the way it is after brushes withdanger and only when there’sno one else nearby to hear him. She’s sure he uses the same tone on theothers as well—on Fitz and certainly on Skye—but it gives her afaint thrill all the same.

“No shame inwhat?” she asks, her hand beginning to sweat in the pocket of herthick jacket.

He gestures to theopen air between them and the forest. It’s not really open though.There’s a wall there. Invisible. Intangible. The others all sensedit earlier when they passed through. Jemma didn’t.

Ward smiles. It’smore wry than embarrassed, more sharp than sheepish. What he musthave seen out there. “Loads of people have no magical sense.”

When she tries toshrug off the words he adds, “I don’t.”

She knew that ofcourse. She and Ward alone on the team have no magical abilitywhatsoever. It’s what makes him such a good specialist. For all hisphysical strength, most people still read him as harmless.

And it’s whatmakes her a liability.

She eyes the air asif expecting to see something new.

Ward’s hand landsheavy on her shoulder. He’s angled his neck down—he reallyshouldn’t, his spine is damaged same as the rest of him—to bettermeet her eyes. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not before andnot- hell. Especially notnow.”

That’san odd way of putting it. She’d think that now, given all that’shappened, it would be even more necessary.

Hismouth quirks up on one side and with one motion he spins her aroundto face the trees, bringing her back to his chest in the process. Thefabric of their jackets crinkle against each other in the stillness.His arms wrap around her waist, his hands lacing to keep her inplace, and his chin lands on the top of her head. She has the absurdthought that at least it’s a better position for his back.

“Whenwe were kids, our parents told us to beware the woods,” he says,his voice low like a wintry breeze. “Don’t follow the lights.Don’t listen to voices in the trees. Don’t go off the path.”

“Advicethat’s saved all our lives.”

Shecan feel his smile in the tightening of his arms. The fabric scrapesagain, the sound hiding her gasp. Ward’s held her before, but neverlike this. Letting her cry herself out on his shoulder or comfortingher after scares, this isn’t that. Hishold is more intimate, less awkward. And there’s something else…

Shecould laugh. It’s the smell of him. He must have showered inProvidence instead of the Bus. The soap has left him with a rich,flowery scent. It’s very unlike him and she has to bite down hergiggles.

“Ithas,” he says. “But magical ability isn’t everything.”

It’san old speech, one Jemma’s been hearing all her life. She closesher eyes against it and wishes she could close her ears and justenjoy Ward’s closeness, pretend that maybe there might be more toit than there can be.

“Mostpeople out there—people who aren’t SHIELD—they don’t haveany. Course, that’s mostly because SHIELD tried to grab all themost powerful people.”

She’salways known SHIELD prefers those gifted in magic, it shouldn’thurt. But it does. And yet she doesn’t flinch the way she used towhen the subject was brought up. She only feels tired, toocomfortable in Ward’s arms to be moved by the old hurt. Maybe she’sgrowing.

Ormaybe she’s just too exhausted by recent events tobother with old emotional scars.

Eitherway. Ward is quite a nice wall to lean against. Stable and warm,keeps the winter chill at bay. She just might fall asleep. That’swhy his next words take so long to reach her.

“Hydradoesn’t care.”

Shockhelps her open her eyes but it’s a struggle to keep them that way. Hishold on her keeps her upright but her head falls forward, her neck tooweak to support it. The whole world is whites and blacks. Dark treesand dark clothes against the white snow. The bright red flowercrushed in Ward’s gloves looks like blood.

Raina,she thinks. And she must say the name because Ward says, “Yeah.”He sounds almost apologetic. His hold on her shifts and she feelsherself fall to one side, slowed by his arms. “Don’tworry,” he says while he lays her on the cold ground. “Hydra willtreat you well, better than SHIELD did, and I’ll be there to lookout for you. Promise.”

Theshadowy woods are growing dark in her vision and she can’t evenattempt to move. She tried so hard to heed her father’s warnings.She was so busy watching for beautiful fairies, she forgot it could hide evil in humans as well.

[sxckmycockinessss]

I married a narcissist.

Krista,

I would like to begin by clarifying that since day one, I had the upmost respect for you and the person you thought you wanted to be. I referred to you as Kris and used he/him/his pronouns. I educated friends and family about your transition and supported it 100%. This may be “petty” but after realizing how little respect you have for me, I will refer to you as Krista.

I like to think of you now as nothing more than an illusionist. A narcissist? Sure. A sociopath? Absolutely.  Honestly, I’ve used worse words to describe you.  I’ve come to the conclusion that more than anything, you are a sad, pathetic, illusionist. You can trick someone into believing you really love them. It’s an effortless game to you. I thought I found something real. Your charming ways reeled me in from the beginning. What I found wasn’t real, I discovered nothing more than a monster. The worst kind of soul. The fucked up part about it all is that you aren’t the least bit remorseful. You’ve shown no sympathy or empathy whatsoever.  

I moved to Virginia from Texas for love. That’s all. I chase love and I would do anything for someone I really care for. That makes me naïve but I know and accept that about myself. I can get heartbroken, bounce back and open my heart for someone else. I love to love. I love to be in love. I love giving the love I have yet to receive. I am a giver by nature. That is my Aries spirit. You knew this about me. You supported my move to Virginia for your own selfish gain. You were so conditioned to a certain privileged lifestyle; why not bait someone into marrying you? Sadly, you don’t have an ounce of love in your heart and you chose the right one, me. I am a naïve, care-free, loving young woman. You became my so-called “best friend”. This was the perfect formula of your next victim. You needed someone you could smartly convince to do and be anything for you. You’re a parasitic vampire. You suck and drain what you need from your unfortunate victims and leave them high and dry.

You and I are both well aware of the things that happened in our relationshit whether you choose to admit to it or not. It happened. I have proof. I lived through it. You can act like it didn’t happen. You can change the story. You can taint my name. I’ve accepted the fact that your family will always choose your side and they may never know what you did to me. They could be blaming me for all I know and that is okay. I know the truth and so do you. You will have to live with it for the rest of your life.  So let’s recap, shall we?

Our journey began back in Sept/Oct 2015. There were miles between us, you were in Pensacola and I was in San Antonio, but we confided in each other and began building a relationship. I was going through a break up and you told me you were going through a divorce. We started talking every day, we talked on the phone and texted each other a lot. A couple weeks in, you decided you wanted to reconcile with your wife. I was hurt but I understood. It was bad timing for the both of us. I was okay with it. I did my thing in Texas and you did whatever in Florida. I was healing myself, getting more into my practice and I had my independence. I was fine. I was happy. I was even in a relationship by Feb/March of 2016. There were times you reached out to me; I remember distinctively in June 2016, you sent that “I miss you” text. I informed you I was in a relationship and didn’t want to talk to you. A couple months later, let’s say September 2016, I start thinking about joining the military, more specifically, the Navy. I talked to Sydnee first. A couple weeks later, I reached out to you about it. I learned that your divorce had just been finalized in August 2016. You sounded better and I was happy for you. I thought maybe this was our time. I have to acknowledge the fact that you went as far as making a trip to Kentucky for some little girl before it was even finalized. You talked to a couple girls before you got to me. I should’ve known then what kind of person you are but I didn’t want to hold that against you at the time. So, poor, desperate Krista thought that this was the ideal opportunity to reel me in. You asked me to call you and you knew you had me. Krista, you have a way with words and you are well aware of your skill. You are so gifted with the way you can get into someone’s head and fill it with lies. That power alone makes you dangerous. It makes me nauseous and disgusted to think that this was the kind of person I was going to spend the rest of my life with and do anything for.

I like to believe that I really got to know you before moving out here. Obviously, I was mistaken. That was just another one of your devious strategies to pull me in. After my visit in October 2016, I decided to stay and that’s when the “real” Krista came out. Then again, was that really you? Do you even know who you really are? I uprooted my entire life for an illusion. I believed in this illusion. I believed in you and I believed in this relationshit. Lies. Smoke and mirrors. That’s what I received in exchange for my genuine love. You lie so much you start believing it. You filled my head with stories, maybe fantasies. You even told me you used to drive for the Cartel and you’ve killed people before. I never believed these fairy tales you came up with. I rarely entertained it. You believed it though and I listened. I would ask myself questions and nothing you ever told me would add up. That’s when you’d get angry.

I was officially moved in with you in November 2016. Chelsi had moved out and blessed us with our own space. That’s when it all started to unfold. We fought. A lot. Our communication sucked. Let me remind you why we fought so much though. Sareena. She was the main reason. I would even ask you if you had enough time to get over her. Your response was always the same. You had your time, your relationship had been over for months, you didn’t care about her, she was crazy, she used all your money, she cheated on you and you didn’t want anything to do with her. More lies. We would get into screaming matches about this girl. You hated being confronted about her. You were so defensive. You would get so angry that you would punch the walls, slam the doors, drive off, and there was one time you kicked and broke the bottom of the bedroom door. Not even a month later in December, you were putting me out of “your” house. You threw all my belongings on to your bed, told me to get the fuck out of your house, told me you were done, and you didn’t give a fuck. The best part? You called your dad to send you money to send me on my way. You came back home and threw $300 in my face and wanted me out. You watched me pack all my things into my car and did nothing but sat there in silence and changed all your passwords to your phone and computer. That was clearly more important to you. (You always resorted to doing that. Evidently, material things meant the most to you.) This all happened because I asked you about Sareena. To me, something didn’t add up. Instead of owning up to the truth, you made me feel like I was crazy for even asking that. You made it a point to make me feel stupid, worthless, and like I was nothing. I was crazy for putting things together and catching you in your lies. You made Sareena out to be this bitter, psychotic, ex-wife that wanted to ruin us. When all along, you were talking to her and telling her you missed her and that I meant nothing to you. I don’t know Sareena well but I don’t believe she is as bad as you make her out to be. She is probably damaged from the lies you fed her. You were in fact, stringing her along while I was in Virginia living with you with a cheap ass Wal-Mart ring on my finger. You know it and I know it. You never wanted to end any contact with her. You made me look like a complete idiot sticking up for you and telling her off when all she ever told me was the truth. She basically warned me and I chose your side. Unfortunately, I accepted your fake apologies and had sympathy for your pitiable cries. By the way, you are a great actress. You fooled me for the most part.

I should’ve been done with you at this point. We had a toxic relationship that was going nowhere fast. I ignored all the red flags, I ignored the signs, I ignored my deepest intuition. On January 12th 2017, we got married. The universe was probably looking at me like WHAT. THE. FUCK. At one point, I genuinely did care and love you. It showed. I fell for a monster and her wicked games. I’m a smart woman and it took a while to accept the whole “husband works and wife stays at home” thing. I was raised to be independent and I never agreed with fully allowing you to “take care” of me. I hated the idea of someone paying my bills and buying my love. At the same time, I was now someone’s wife. I wanted to be a good little “Stepford” wife. We started planning our fall October wedding while keeping our marriage a secret. I didn’t realize it then but, I was slowly beginning to lose myself into you. I quit my job in February 2017. I hated it and was planning to look for something else. At the time, your mental health issues were priority. There were times I had to leave work because of you. I quit work to be available 24/7 for you. It’s crazy that I was ever called selfish in this relationshit. I always put you before myself and did anything in my power to try to help you.  I was an obedient housewife. When I started to bleach and color my hair, THAT WAS A DEFINITE CRY FOR HELP. I broke my hair off and pushed it to its limits. It helped to keep my mind off things while I wasn’t working in a salon. I was so wrapped up in caring for you and trying to heal you that I lost myself. I was good for posting fake happy pictures on social media. I pretended that I was fine and that my relationship was fine because in reality how embarrassing is it to share that I was putting up with all of this? I couldn’t tell my friends or my family anything because I whole-heartedly believed that what happened in our marriage stayed between us. I let a lot of things slide with you. I started ignoring the things that wouldn’t add up. I tried my hardest to believe you and trust in you. Little did I know, I was only digging a deeper hole for myself. I started drinking more to numb the fact that THIS was my married life. I am grateful for essentially saving myself and leaving when I did. I only regret not leaving sooner but that’s okay.

We moved into our new townhome in July 2017. Later I found out that it was always just “your” house. It was never mine. This summer was full of lots of beach trips, pool trips and we can’t forget our numerous trips to Florida. You kept me from seeing my family in Texas. There was always some excuse of why we couldn’t go but we always made time to see your family in Florida. I digress. Your townhouse was amazing but let’s not forget who turned it into a home. You were spoiled. We had everything we could ask for. You always came home to home-cooked meals, a clean house, clean laundry and Isis was always taken care of. I would set up baths for you and even put in a lot of effort into fixing our marriage by doing a lot of little things to help you through your depressing times. I was your faithful servant. It was your home, your phone, your furniture, your everything. I allowed myself to be easily controlled. You knew you could hold that over my head and rip it away from me whenever you wanted. You fed off of this. Sick fuck. You threatened me so many times. You ensured I knew who the fuck you are, what you were capable of and that I am nothing without you and the things you could provide for me. What kind of “man” treats their wife like this? I had nothing to my name besides my car and my belongings from Texas. And you knew this.

In August 2017, our relationship only continued to get worse. I knew it was time but I had a lot to think about. You told me it was my decision to move here. You were right. I found it funny how you could throw that in my face yet, you were crying and begging me to stay at the airport when I was about to go back home. I. HAD. NOTHING. I didn’t even have a bed. One night after going to bed late cause we were up arguing, you were sleepwalking. I was awake, I couldn’t sleep. When you got up, it scared me. I was scared for my safety because you were already at the point where you’d hear and see terrible things. WHO KNOWS WHAT COULD’VE HAPPENED HAD I NOT BEEN AWAKE?! I didn’t know how to help you anymore, you were only getting worse. I’m not a professional and that’s what I believed you needed. I wanted you to admit yourself to Portsmouth. Krista, I was genuinely worried about your safety as well as mine. But surprise, surprise, after waking you up from sleepwalking, we got into another heated argument. I recorded the things you said to me. It was time to start protecting myself. I only had myself. You said, “if you’re here by the time I get back, we’re going to have some serious problems.” I didn’t respond to anything you were saying. I sat there, quiet and just took it. You asked for the ring back and wanted me out. It wasn’t any different from our other fights. I continued to take all this mistreatment from you. It did detrimental things to my mind, body, and soul. I started to believe awful things about myself as a result of the words I let you feed into mind. I’m not a perfect person, I never claimed that. I contributed to fights by yelling and cussing. I know my communication skills suck. I know I can be mean as hell. Do I believe I deserved any of this? Absolutely fucking not. No one deserves this. The icing on the cake was when you decided to pack up and leave for just about three weeks. You left out details of your whereabouts like where you were going and who you were with. I knew you didn’t respect me before but this really sealed the deal. You told me about some guy friend you were staying with which was another lie. You had made new friends, Nicole Preston and Samantha. You went out, did what you wanted and expected me to be home when you were done. I found messages between you and a girl you used to fuck named “Devon Taylor” but at that time I was on my way to moving on. You left me abandoned and neglected at “your” house. When all this started happening I was in the first week of my new job. Without your financial help and sense of concern, I started working my ass off. There were days I worked 10-13 days in a row. I barely had an appetite, I was losing weight and replacing food with alcohol. No one really knew that though. By August 24th, I dusted myself off and moved on. I was beginning my healing journey. I got home from work one evening and you were there. My anxiety was on 10. I tried to avoid being home when you were there. You were always drunk and smoking hella cigarettes in your room. That night, you referred to me as your wife and wanted to talk to me, hold me and be around me. I was disgusted. I wasn’t falling for it at all. You were drunk and desperate for my attention. You tried to block me from leaving the house while trying to make me talk to you. At this point you were telling Devon that I was nothing but a crazy bitch. After all I put into this relationshit, that’s how you would refer to me to your next victims. There was definitely a pattern here. You would taint my name to make yourself look good to whoever would listen. That was the last straw for me. I had to get out of the house. I didn’t feel safe anymore. Luckily, I was able to move in with generous friends. They took me in their home and out of a bad situation. I could never thank them enough for that.

So by the end of August, I had an amazing support system, I had my job, my things, my car, a place to stay and a new found love. Things were looking up for me. There was only one thing holding me back and that was divorcing you. After being informed about you abandoning your wife and withholding BAH from me (money you wouldn’t have if we weren’t married), Fleet&Family suggested I try to get a hold of your sorry ass chain of command. I learned very quickly that the Navy looks out for their sailors no matter the circumstance. I took our case to family advocacy and they were no help. Apparently our case didn’t meet the requirements to be further investigated. Cool. I used all of my Navy resources, spoke to legal assistance and spoke to so many different people but in the end nothing was done. No one was hearing me or trying to help. I had a property settlement/separation agreement from legal assistance, it was my right to ask for spousal support. You didn’t agree and refused to sign it. I took it to court and you didn’t show up. Apparently, you couldn’t find the correct courtroom. You made sure to call me that morning and let me know you weren’t trying to fuck me over. You told me you would go ahead and file for divorce in Florida and pay for it so I didn’t have to worry about it. I was stupid to trust you with that. I wanted to give up. Eventually, I did.  I started focusing on how blessed I was to have my support system, Chelsi, and my job.  I have them to thank for getting me through this and being there for me. A few weeks later, in December 2017, you resorted to disrespecting me and calling me names. Not surprised. All I asked was if you had filed yet but, you were so upset that Chelsi was in my life. It killed you to see me happy, flourishing and growing in love with her. I realized how much time I wasted by trusting you to take care of the divorce.

It’s a whole new year. January 2018. I took matters into my own hands. This divorce was long overdue so I began the process all by myself here in Virginia. It was stressful but I knew it was going to be well worth it in the end. It is now the last week of February 2018 and GUESS WHAT?! I’m finally getting my divorce! It has been a long, stressful and emotional ride. The universe has been looking out for me and my support system.

With all this being said, I just feel sorry for you, Krista. I always will. You are a coward. You never had the courage or decency to admit you were talking to Sareena yet, I’m a hoe for being with Chelsi. Funny. You were playing me from the start, we both know that. You married me for your own benefit. There was never any love or care from you. You couldn’t even tell me you were out of the Navy and on your way to Florida when you still had unfinished business here in Virginia, like I don’t know, your divorce? Speaking of Florida, I will always cherish your mother’s way of trying to make me feel accepted into the Whitaker family, how she supported us financially at times and especially how she pretended to care about my feelings. What I will always remember about Ms. Joanna is how she jokingly said I got married to get my green card. FYI, I was born in our nation’s capital, Washington, D.C. This may be a shock to most people but I am 100% American. I didn’t entertain her ignorance then and I won’t start. Anyway, thank you Ms. Joanna and the Whitaker family for the fun outings we had in Florida. I did appreciate them and the financial help.

Krista, good luck in life. Lying your way to the top and out of situations seems to work well for you. You only survive by preying on young women. Your form of enjoyment is breaking them down and re-molding them into who you want them to be. Fortunately, I escaped before it was too late. I was hurt. I was sad. I was depressed. I stopped taking care of myself. More than anything, I was angry for allowing this to happen. I’m still working through the motions, repairing what you broke. Don’t get it twisted though, YOU DID NOT BREAK ME DOWN. I left before giving you that power. I know not giving you that power hurt you to your core.  I was raised to be resilient and rise up with my head held high when I get knocked down. I do have to thank you though. Without you, I wouldn’t have met great new friends or reconnected with old friends. I’m living closer to my family than I ever have. In fact, you introduced me to the real reason I moved here for. Chelsi has been patiently assisting me in my healing process. She has been nothing but a true blessing after you. She couldn’t even believe all the things that happened behind closed doors. To be completely honest, it should’ve been her. It was always her but the universe felt like I needed to learn a lesson. So we shared a drunken kiss March 2017, cry me a river! We stopped having sex, you wouldn’t even look at me like you were attracted to me, and all we knew how to do was put each other down. Even then, after we kissed, I cut her off and told you about it because I saw it as cheating. But what were you doing to me throughout our entire relationship? Oh okay. No regrets. The universe was working on bringing Chelsi and I closer together. I am not ashamed to admit that I enjoyed that kiss and I felt something for her then. My dumb ass stuck by your side though and tried gaining back your trust. I digress. I’m not perfect. I made my mistakes. This marriage was sadly the biggest mistake I ever made. The universe did bring me to Chelsi under the most trying circumstances. I guess God & Goddess really do have a sense of humor. I knew it was her when I first moved here but I was wrapped in this relationshit. Anyway, I learned my lesson. I learned so much from this “marriage”. I can’t bring myself to regret any of it though. I was in love. I would still do anything for love. I know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m being shaped into a force, only growing better and stronger. I am happy with where I am at in life. Even though this experience put me back in therapy, I am a step closer to fully healing from it all. You didn’t win, Krista. You didn’t get to keep me. YOU DID NOT WIN. I will learn to forgive you, eventually. For now, I’m choosing to let go of your entire existence.

A huge round of applause for the illusionist. And a huge thank you for introducing me to my blessing and surrounding me with amazing, loving, caring friends. They continue to support me through all of this. I will always be grateful for the people that enter my life to teach me things and open my eyes, including you. I wish you peace, love and light. I wish you the ability to let love into your heart. Goodbye, Krista.

- Kiara Avila

[rocky-alex]

Motels Won’t Cut It Anymore

Word count: 1411

Warnings: none this time

Pairing: Reader x Sam

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Chapter twenty three: In The Backseat Of A ‘67 Chevy

“So he convinced you to stay?” You looked up from your bowl of cereal and saw Dean standing in the kitchen doorway. Before answering you took a moment to consider your words.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt,” you whispered.

“What the hell gave you the idea that you had any choice?” He didn’t sound menacing or angry. Instead he said it in a way that made you feel one step closer to the realisation that maybe this wasn’t all your fault.

“Listen, Y/N,” Dean said and stepped into the kitchen. “We’re not letting you go. We’re going to fight this, what your family is doing, together. Believe it or not, me and Sam have faced things way worse than this. We’ll be fine.”

“I know…” All the emotion of the past few days had drained you, but it was time to step up. You had work to do. Shaking your head, you got up from your seat and wrapped you arms around Dean in a tight hug. He seemed surprised, but hugged you back. Just as you were letting go, you saw Sam step around the corner.

“Morning,” he said. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you walked around Dean straight to Sam. You stood on your toes and pulled him down for a deep kiss. What had happened between you was something you would never regret. You wanted him, it was as simple as that, and until he told you differently, you weren’t going anywhere. He had to know that. His arms went around your waist and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Just as you were forgetting you weren’t alone in the room, douchebag- uhm, Dean, felt it appropriate to interrupt. You opened your eyes and pulled away from Sam.

“Dude!”

“What?” he asked, feigning total fucking innocence.

“A little class, maybe? Or is that beneath you?” He grinned.

“I was a little too tall, Could’ve used a few pounds…”

“Everything’s a Bob Seger song to him.” It might have been in spite, but you turned back to Sam and kissed him again, this time making it as obscene and dirty as you dared to.

“Okay, uncle! This is a kitchen, you know?”

“You started it.” Dean just mumbled something in response. You grinned at Sam before going back to the table to finish your cereal.

Around lunchtime Sam got a call about a possible vampire nest up in Nebraska. Apparently there wasn’t anyone else close by, so the brothers had gotten the call. Not close enough to hear exactly what was being said, you only saw Sam glancing over at you while talking. Dean had already gone to pack a bag and wasn’t in the room with you. Sam hung up and walked over to you.

“Looks like we’ll have to leave for a few days…”

“And?” He laughed nervously.

“And I’m not sure you should come with us. It’s a milk run, won’t take long, but you’ve never been hunting. I don’t think I could do what I have to if I’m worried about you, which I will be.” You smiled up at him.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I don’t want to go?”

“Yupp.”

“Well then, I don’t want to go.” And you didn’t. This was basically their job, and you didn’t have any desire to stick your nose in their business. You’d be safe in the bunker, you knew that. Aside from Cas the angelman, no one else could come in so you’d just stay here and wait for them. It didn’t seem like you had all that many leads on your family anyway, so there wasn’t much to do.

Sam wrapped his arms around your waist and you let your hands settle on his chest. You  might have spread your fingers and you may have really enjoyed his warmth and, well, firmness. Damn, you’d miss him while he was gone. Almost like he could read your mind (or it was just that obvious) he grinned and leaned down to capture your lips with his. The kiss started out slow, like it was meant as a pre-goodbye one, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your arms went around his neck and you pressed yourself against him, letting your tongue slip out to tease his lips. He immediately opened his mouth and you pushed your tongue inside. He tasted to damn good, felt so damn good.

It seemed like you were doomed for a life with interruption.

“Oh, come on!” You broke the kiss, panting slightly.

“Would you mind terribly if I accidentally shot him?” you whispered in Sam’s ear.

“Not at all, go right ahead,” he answered. That made you laugh and you stepped out of his arms.

“When are you leaving?” you asked him.

“Five minutes ago, but Sam was busy.”

“Okay, that’s it.” You started to pull your gun from your waistband, but Sam stopped you.

“Not in the library.” Dipshit, he was laughing. Dean smirked.

“Let’s go, Sammy.” Sam kissed you one more time before heading to his room to grab his things. Dean watched him leave before turning to you.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Sam… He’s happy.” You smiled.

The brothers hadn’t been gone more than eight hours when your phone rang. An unknown number, so it wasn’t them calling to check up on you. You hesitated with you thumb hovering over the answer button. Before you could make a decision it stopped ringing. You frowned. Two weeks ago you would have just answered and fended off whatever salesperson it was, but now you felt damn near paranoid. You didn’t know if your family kept exact track of you, so you didn’t want to take chances that could end up biting you in the ass. Your phone rang again, still unknown number. You let it ring without answering. Deciding that this was some bullshit, you dialled Sam’s number. It went to voicemail, unsurprisingly. They were probably in the middle of finding the nest, and would call back when they could.

Once again your phone rang again. Damn it, you had to answer.

“Y/N here.”

“It’s been a long time, my dear daughter.” You felt the blood drain from your face.

“Dad?” you whispered.

“I’m must say, I was a little surprised when I realised you’d come to Texas with the Winchesters. I was hoping you’d stay away, young Mica really didn’t deserve that.” Tears started to leak rom your eyes.

“Why did you do it?”

“Dearest Y/N, I thought you’d understand. Mica was a means to an end, as was her death. Had you stayed away she would have lived. Her death however, showed you I’ll do whatever I have to, to get you to come back to us.” “Why do you want me back?”

“Is it that hard to understand? We miss you, Y/N, we want to bring the family back together. You mother hasn’t been the same since your sister died and you left.” Bringing up Leah to gain sympathy was way out of line.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare to talk about Leah. I don’t know exactly what happened that night, but I do know you and mom are responsible.” “Now why do you think that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You lost the right to her when she died. And to then tell the world I was dead too? Is your reputation worth more than your family? If so, why the hell should I even consider coming back?”

“Leah’s death was tragic-”

“Just stop.” He took a deep breath.

“Okay then. I don’t think I have to paint you a picture of what will happen if you refuse me, Y/N. I realise you’ve grown close to the Winchesters, as they saved your life.” You weren’t going to tell him just how much more than that they’d done for you. He had enough ammo as it were.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, that little bunker of theirs isn’t as safe as they think it is. I did you the courtesy of waiting until they were out of town, but I won’t be refused.” No. No, no, no, no, no. Not them, not again. He couldn’t do that, could he? But he knew where you were, he knew how to get in…

Could you do it? Could you bring yourself to leave, when just this morning you’d come to the conclusion that that was the last thing you’d do?

@bookchic20

@carryonmyswansong

@hey-bxtch

Note: Hii! Posting earlier than usual because I’m working night/closing shifts for the next three days, so I’m posting this chapter as a sort of pre-apology if I don’t get the chance to update tomorrow or thursday. Thank you so much for the encouragement and reviews, you’re all amazing! :D

[whataprettylilmess]

Well last night was the Pretty Little Liars episode we’ve all been waiting for; the ending. Considering the last two seasons we’ve suffered, I was content with the reveal of A.D as it became obvious it was only relevant to this season. Putting that into consideration, Alex was the perfect ending to someone avenging the death of Charlotte. Every other aspect of the show and episode and ending however, had me pretty disappointed.

I had unrealistically high hopes, to no fault but my own, which I am now very much regretting, but I was HOPING PLL would take a risk and shock us all, but considering another twin theory was expected by many, elements of shock were minor. I think my high hopes came from the promo and my own theories (Caleb, Ezra or Ali were my DREAM A’s), but also other TV show finales, such as the recent ending to ‘The Vampire Diaries’, which was perfect in every aspect and had me crying for hours like a little baby. And I was hoping for some form of content closure after 7 years of my life wrapped up in a mystery show with so many questions, not more questions and sentences without full stops

Of course there is positives, without a doubt. I’ve loved the programme and I don’t want to slate it to the ground when there are good (although minor) aspects. The acting within the show is incredible along with the directing etc. Troian Bellisario was outstandingly amazing, as was Janel Parrish, not to mention every other character on their usual standards. Just for me, since season 4 the show has been lacking a concentrated story line and full element of mystery, especially these past two seasons which have just been completely lost on me.

I’m so happy also with how Alex was revealed and what a character she was. A stone cold sociopath craving no sympathy, just thriving in her actions. Her mirroring reveal was SO much better than when Cece just turned around in a hoodie. This along with Troian’s acting made the episode somewhat worth it.

And then Mona. Oh my favourite, what a character. She won the game and that makes me so happy. ‘A’ really came round full circle in such a subtle but instinctive manner that did Mona so well. Her fake police man boyfriend and using everyone around her for her own motive gave me the vibes of when I loved the show when she owned the game, back when things made more sense.

So now we’re onto the ranting and the ramblings, as I can safely say my two paragraphs of happiness will be deeply outweighed by my never-ending questions and somewhat faults with this ending. Let’s start with the actual ending. Like please, can they just leave it with Mona doing us all proud winning the twisted life she created and NOT making it seem like Alison disappearing and causing it all was normal and trying take two with the IRRELEVANT Addison who nobody would even bat an eyelid at. I think everyone’s eyes rolled when they were just waiting for the “I think I heard her scream.”

There’s also the fact that the way it began holds no relevance whatsoever. Like in reality, this was a show about an iconic bitch who went missing. Alison then turned into a middle-aged housewife and A.D quite frankly had nothing to do with her and no care for her. Like ???? HOW. Alison was such a minor role in these seasons and they could have done it so much better. Too much from the early seasons has been forgotten, lost and unanswered and that’s the most annoying part. From the five-year time jump, PLL has basically been a completely different show with new motives and a new family focus of the Hastings.

Then there’s Wren. Shady Wren. Who has been done so dirty. I did not spend my years analysing this man’s shady behaviour for him to become a fake Spencer’s lap dog and then DIE. So many parts of his story and time on the show doesn’t make sense, he could have had a better link to the plot, along with Melissa, if the story had taken a partially different route they could have been done better. Wren has been a predicted A since the Charles reveal, and for him to just die barely even helping Alex just wasn’t enough for me.

I was also lost on the need for a one year time jump. Like why did Alex take a whole year off just to come back and try to be Spencer again? It made no sense to me whatsoever. Much like the fact that JENNA and a HORSE solved who A.D was. How have these girls spent seven seasons hiding from anonymous murdering stalkers to reveal one in half an hour with the help of their biggest enemy and a horse? Like come on. It was so rushed in that the finale spent an hour focusing on the romances, which although they’re cute and everyone got their happy ending, have always been a side plot, or supposedly, to what the show really is, a MYSTERY, a concept which the writers lost and upsets me a lot. So an hour on romance and then 40 mins on A.D? Just shows the lack of relevance to the entire thing really doesn’t it.

 I feel like I have so many more questions and annoyances about this ending, and I really didn’t want to feel this way about the end so I need to stop talking about it. In reality, this is the direction it took, and it’s over. I don’t want to sound entirely negative as I love the show and in consideration of how boring and lost I’ve found the last season and a half, the last five episodes were majorly good in comparison. I just wanted more. I feel like to introduce a new and complex character like Alex and expect it all to be over was a stretch and was bound to leave people with more questions, which isn’t really fair. Although her story and flashbacks made sense so much more than Charlotte’s which did make me very happy, I don’t feel like it’s over. The final scene of the girls made me cry (right up until they ruined it with Addison) so I feel like that’s a happy note of closure.

Overall it’s safe to say I’m glad it’s over and I don’t have to focus apparently more time and energy than the writers into theorising who A is, even though I will miss it, and I am planning on rewatching the whole thing just to piece it back together. Hope you’ve enjoyed this rambled mess of thoughts on the finale, please comment your own as I’d love to read them.

Hopefully I’m back to regular posts as it’s summer so.

Thanks for reading. Until next time.

  PLL GAME OVER: Reaction. Well last night was the Pretty Little Liars episode we've all been waiting for; the ending. Considering the last two seasons we've suffered, I was content with the reveal of A.D as it became obvious it was only relevant to this season.