#one of them will probably scratch herself to bleeding at some point bc she gets so stressed when doggo is here that long

[seekingthestars]

sometimes i get the General Melancholies and i hate it a lot

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

your writing is so so great! could I please request a one shot where maybe Toni falls of a cliff/gets injured badly in order to protect Shelby and her friends and they are insanely worried (both for Toni and Shelby’s mental wellbeing) JUST LIKE IN YOUR LAST ONE SHOT, I actually think the girls are the best thing Toni could ever get and she deserves all of the comfort and love

it’s 2.3k of hurt/comfort fresh off the presses. i have not even read it. initially it was gonna be a lot angstier but i couldn’t make the stakes high enough in that so we’re sticking with this for now. i’ll post it on a03 as soon as i get positive feedback bc i crave validation and also i ahve not eaten lunch and am running on three hours of sleep and if you’re wondering if that’s your fault. well.

Toni woke up and groaned, her head pounded and she was cold all over, shivers wracking her body.

She gave a slow cough, and dust rattled around in her lungs.

She was alive, at least. That was something.

Fuck, Shelby.

“Shelby?” Her voice was so hoarse it barely pierced the gloom, but it was clear. Toni was alone.

The worst of her injuries seemed to be her leg, which was trapped under a rock she didn’t have the leverage to move. She didn’t have the space to move at all actually. There was no light in the alcove, or the space between rocks she was in, but hopefully it wasn’t airtight.

Her head was bleeding, and her back was bruised, and there were scrapes up and down her arms, but she could really barely feel her leg.

There was water, which was very very bad, but it was only ankle deep, and the soft trickle she heard did not indicate she only had a few hours left.

The thunderstorm had come on suddenly, tropical ones sometimes do. It wasn’t Toni’s first time caught up in one, usually they were in the trees and they had to race for a nearby cave or the beach just in case lightning decided to strike. But she and Shelby had been by the cliffs, looking for more caves or maybe a place to get ten minutes to themselves.

The rain had dropped down like a hammer, the wind was strong enough it carried them both off their feet. Toni remembered, vaguely, being slammed into something hard. She grabbed Shelby’s hand and kept them going against it, wind and hail pelting them hard enough to bruise. She hadn’t heard the distant rumbling, stupid, but had shoved Shelby into a cave and at the wrong second her grip slipped and the wind picked up, and she was flung away.

She crawled into some pace between rocks and the rumble had been a mud slide. Everything was kinda hazy after that.

At least the storm seemed to have stopped. She rubbed her eyes and winced at the pain in her head. Probably a concussion.

God what if Shelby was buried too? What if Shelby was dead?

That was a nasty storm, what if the other girls were hurt, even if they were on the beach?

What if Toni died here, alone and cold and bleeding and hurt?

“Toni!” Someone screamed.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the relief. From how far away they were, and muffled by the rock slide, she couldn’t recognize it, but she’d give anything that it was Shelby.

“Toni!”

She tried to call back but her voice wouldn’t let out much more than a rasp and a series of coughs that shook her to her spine.

She tried slamming her fist against the rock ceiling but that made the water at the bottom start trickling faster.

“Toni!”

The voice sounded further away and she began to panic, what if that was her last shot?

“Toni!”

She settled for slow scratching at the mud trapping her in and the voice started getting closer again.

“I think I hear something over here!” Someone called. “Toni, is that you?”

“Yes,” she tried to rasp out, “Yes, I’m here!”

“I can’t hear anything,” someone said.

She kept scratching.

“There’s definitely something there,” someone said. “Maybe it’s an animal or something.”

“She has to be around here somewhere,” someone said. “TONI!”

The water around her ankles was filling up faster, had almost reached her navel. The more she scratched the higher she got, the rocks behind her head felt less stable.

“Toni if that’s you knock twice okay?” Someone said.

She knocked twice.

“Guys she’s down here!”

There are more voices, scratches and banging around on top of her head. It all feels incredibly dangerous, like they might get sucked down too, but she doesn’t have a way to warn them.

In the end Dot managed to get them to their senses, got them to stand back and used the hatchet to slowly carve a hole in. It was enough for her to peer through and Toni realized what she must’ve looked like. Bloody and pale and broken.

“Yalright Toni?” Dot asked.

Toni shook her head, and with the penlight she knew Dot could see it. At least the fresh air was nice, she suspected the ventilation wasn’t as great as she thought it initially was.

Dot pulled away to address everyone. “Okay guys, it’s filling with water which means we have to be super careful.” Dot reappeared, “Any major injuries?”

“Leg,” Toni tried to rasp out.

“What’s that?”

Toni pointed at her leg.

“Ah shit, is it trapped?” Dot asked.

Toni nodded.

Dot disappeared again and her voice was too quiet for Toni to make out.

“Toni?” It was Martha, which at least meant she was okay. “We’re gonna get you out of there you just have to stay calm.”

Where the fuck was Shelby?

The hole they dug got a little wider, she could hear Dot over-exerting herself, Fatin simply exerting herself, Leah going into hyper drive. Nora gave instructions from the sidelines and Martha kept talking to her.

Where was Shelby where was she.

When Dot’s hand finally managed to reach her hand Toni let out her first audible noise in hours and it was a scream of pain. Her leg felt like it was falling out of her socket and she collapsed back into the water with a splash, it now at chest height.

“Toni,” Martha’s voice returned, “We might have to amputate.”

“No,” Toni rasped, tears streaked down her dusty face. “Please no.”

She knew they couldn’t hear her but still. She found herself begging, begging like she never had before.

“Shelby wants to talk to you,” Martha said, she sounded unsure. “Is that okay?”

Toni nodded, as aggressively as she could. So Shelby was okay, it was her voice in the beginning.

“Toni,” there was Shelby’s voice, she almost closed her eyes at the sound of it, but she didn’t want to miss her eyes. “Toni I’m here.” She reached her hand out and Toni bent as far as she could, letting their fingers intertwine in a loose hold before she collapsed back down again. “We’re gonna get you out of this, okay?”

Toni wiped at her eyes. “Shelby.”

“I promise,” Shelby said, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

They managed to carve her out, Toni wasn’t quite sure how. She faded out after a few hours, when the water reached her chin. When she woke up she was back on the beach, in clean clothes in the shelter, her leg was elevated and wrong looking, and her head was in Martha’s lap.

“You’re awake,” Martha said, Toni’s hair was probably filled with a million different braids. “Let me get Dot, alright?”

Toni nodded and to her horror tears started streaming down her cheeks the moment Martha left. Maybe it was exhaustion, pain, but it felt like fear. That all consuming crippling terror.

“Hey,” it was Shelby’s voice, not Dot’s, that came through the shelter. She spotted the tears immediately and Toni closed her eyes, willing them to stop. A soft, calloused finger, wiped them away and Toni leant into the touch so desperate and cold and her arms wrapped around Shelby as Shelby lifted her just a little into her arms.

“You’re alright,” Shelby said. “I’ve got you.”

Toni was aware she was shivering and shaking, her entire body felt weaker than it ever had.

“I’ve got meds for you, alright?” Shelby said. She pulled away. “You need to eat somethin first, and drink somethin, you’re probably dehydrated.”

She helped Toni sit up against one of Fatin’s balled up sweaters and gave her some of the goat jerky Shelby had managed to smoke. Toni chewed slowly and felt exhausted afterwards, and didn’t argue when Shelby handed her a pill and some water. She fell asleep to Shelby’s hands caressing hers.

Things faded in and out. Shelby and Martha were both there as much as they could be but it was Rachel who took up the mantel more often than not. One hand meant taking care of Toni was about as productive as she could get.

“How does the leg feel?” Rachel asked, when Toni was more lucid than usual.

“I can’t feel it,” Toni said. “Probably not a great sign.”

“Well I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Dot said we got to wean you off of the painkillers because you might get addicted.”

Toni rubbed her eyes, the last thing she wanted to think about right now was her mother.

“I’m also probably blowing through the stash,” she said.

“Hopefully this is the last major injury we get,” Rachel said. Toni looked at her. “Fine. Be that way.”

They were silent for awhile, Rachel picking at some of her bandages and Toni focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore.

“I don’t think Shelby’s a homophobe,” Rachel said. Toni looked at her, “I know I know but—she was really freaked out when we found her. She’s definitely got a major guilt complex or something, but I don’t think she hates you. At least not anymore.”

“Okay,” Toni swallowed hard.

“I just mean—ugh,” Rachel went from picking at her bandage to picking at her clothes. “Listen I’m not saying you have to forgive her but just like. You didn’t see her once we found you. She was freaking out man, kept saying how god had taken you. Remind me never to go to Texas like she and Dot keep inviting me?”

“Can’t be all bad,” Toni said, ignoring everything else Rachel just said. “I hear the Mexican food is great.”

Rachel hummed.

“Hey,” Toni kept her voice soft when Shelby came in that night with dinner. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Eat first,” Shelby said. “I need to check your scrapes. How does your head feel?”

“Like I have a mild concussion,” Toni said.

Shelby re-bandaged the worst of the scrapes, and cleaned them again. A lot of them were so bad they were yellow with pus, and likely Toni would have wicked scars there.

“Nora said it was an off shore hurricane, one of those that dies before it reaches the mainland. It was probably almost dead which is why it only last a few hours.”

“Oh,” Toni said. “Does that mean were close to somewhere?”

“It could, but it might mean we’re closer to Japan,” Shelby said. “How’s the leg?”

“I can’t feel it,” Toni said. Shelby nodded.

“Dot wants you to only use the meds to sleep,” Shelby said.

“It’s a good idea, with like—my mom and everything,” Toni looked away and Shelby took her hand.

“You know I don’t think less of you for that, right?”

Toni nodded.

“Good.”

They ate in relative quiet, for dessert there were lychees which Shelby had evidently picked up for the two of them if her blushing was anything to go by.

“I wanna talk to you about something,” Toni said at last. Shelby nodded. “Rachel was talking to me about how they found you.”

Shelby frowned, “alright?”

“Did you—“ Toni furrowed her brow, “Shelby did you really think god had taken me away or something?”

Shelby looked away away, fidgeting with that damned cross necklace. “Toni you didn’t see it.”

“Shelby I’m pretty sure I’m the only other one who did.”

Shelby shook her head, “No, no Toni you didn’t see it—not the way I did. The storm came on so suddenly, and there was lightning and thunder everywhere, and your hand was in mine but I turned around I just barely saw you go flying, like you were actually being sucked up into the sky.”

“But I’m okay,” Toni said.

“No,” Shelby kept shaking her head, “It was my fault. If I had held on a little tighter, or if I hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have been there at all.”

“I would still be on this island—“

“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here,” Shelby said. “Don’t you see? I had feelings for you and you got food poisoning, we kissed and everyone nearly starved, Rachel got attacked by a shark after we had sex—Toni what more do you need?”

“Shelby,” Toni grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I mean you got pulled away by Him when I was about to tell you I—“ Shelby cut herself off. “It’s a sign, is all. It’s a sign.”

“Shelby look at me.”

When Shelby does her eyes are red and wide and scared.

“Shelby do you really think God would kill me for this,” Toni traced a thumb over Shelby’s hand. “For loving you?”

Shelby swallowed hard. “I can’t rightly say.”

“Shelby,” Toni’s voice cracked, and she couldn’t even blame it on the dust. “You really think he’d do that? Kill some random ass teenage girl because she happened to love another teenage girl? I know I don’t know a lot about the Bible but I’m pretty sure Jesus was too busy turning water into wine to worry about if a couple of girls were kissing behind the church.”

Shelby kinda smiled at that and Toni ached to pull her into her arms, to run her fingers through her matted her and kiss her until the cows came home. Or the goats. But her body was too weak, and she had to settle for pressing a kiss to Shelby’s knuckles.

“I love you,” Toni said. “Now say it back.”

Shelby looked at the door to the tent, worrying her jaw, she looked back at Toni, “I love you too.”

She flinched and waited, but all they heard was the gentle crashing of distant waves and Shelby seemed to sag.

“I’m gonna be fine,” Toni said. “And we’re gonna be fine. And I love you.”

Shelby nodded, “I love you too.”

[honey-hippie-harper]

through the bleeding shell (Re-upload)

This was @obsidianfr3sk ‘s Feel Better gift asfghadsfghadfsghja. It turned out to be pretty depressing in the end bc idk how to write happy stuff but my good intentions were there, ok?

This is a Humon/Renegays fic :’). Which, basically, is about how the Renegays didn’t kiss during the trilogy...sort of. I can’t think of an specific reason why they didn’t besides bad writing and queerbaiting, but I’ve always seen Hugh as this...detached entity. Idk x’d. He shows a pretty dense attitude. And so, I thought that it was partly the reason why they’re not that affective during the trilogy. Not that they aren’t on a daily basis. I just think their relationship was in a bad place when the events happened, because, among other things, Hugh wasn’t grieving Georgia in a healthy way (I headcanon them as best friends </3) and wouldn’t allow Simon to help him. 

idk why I felt the need to talk about that.

tag list (tell me if you want to be in or out): @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @razzmooncake

through the bleeding shell

Being around someone for so long…

It allowed you to know things. Some of them important.

Others, not so much.

Simon had married a person he had been around his entire life; he had slept next to him almost every single day since he was very young. And his name was Hugh Everhart.

Simon knew every spot on Hugh’s body; he knew every mole, every random sun freckle here and there; how his body mass seemed to be well-distributed at plain sight but, in reality, his chest was naturally wider than the rest of his body, as if he had been born with the figure of a baseball player; how he scratched his nose because wrinkling it so much while laughing made it itchy; he knew the way his knuckles turned yellow when he turned them into a fist; he knew there was one single scar below his rib cage area…

He knew everything he had to know about Hugh Everhart, his husband, whom he loved so much that sometimes it hurt.

Yet, Simon was yet to know how and why, lately, he was so cold, despite still being a human furnace who was sometimes annoyed by the blanket on winter nights.

Kasumi frowned, and Simon wished she were misunderstanding, but whatever thing she was thinking, she was probably right.

Cold was a pretty wide term, which could basically mean anything. Being brutally honest, not even he knew what he was trying to convey by using that word, so he supposed he was referring to anything it could express, as a whole.

Thinking about it… yeah.

That option sounded about right.

Another thing that sounded about right, was the idea of Kasumi judging him because of it, which was something Simon knew wasn’t true and, instead, it was just his anxiety trying to ruin his day even more. But sometimes things were like that. He tried to avoid it, but never managed to do such thing. Ever.

“Not to be rude or anything.” She started, but before proceeding she seemed to realize that, maybe, that hadn’t sounded as intended, and her cheeks became extremely flushed, until Kasumi looked like she had ran under the burning sun while wearing a wool sweater for hours. “Really, Si. I don’t mean to be rude. As in...I’m...telling you this...so you think…”

She clicked her tongue, and then both Tamaya, who was also in the room, and him, stared at her as she talked to herself under her breath, making a couple of hand movements, as if she were writing her sentence in the air so she could phrase it correctly.

Sometimes, when Kasumi was nervous, she tended to struggle at putting her ideas together in a gentle, polite manner.

“...I was telling you that, so you don’t think I’m trying to offend you or minimize your pain.” She corrected herself. “Yeah?”

“...Yeah.” Simon nodded.

“Well…” Kasumi rubbed her hands together, more as a distraction than as an actual mannerism. “You know I’ve...never understood. Back at home...when we all lived together and...ugh. You know? Just...don’t mind me. Tam, you tell him.”

“No, no. What you’re saying is important too.”

“I want to listen to you, Zoomie.”

Upon the two pairs of eyes in the room being fixated on her, Kasumi kept fidgeting with the paper cone she now had between her hands, absently.

“Fine.” She whispered in a breathy voice, and then she stared at Simon, who stared back, not because he wanted to be polite or something like that, but because he genuinely wanted to listen to her.

Kasumi wasn’t a talker. That wasn’t an exaggeration or an act of fake modesty. It was just that Kasumi didn’t enjoy a lot of things, and one of them was speaking, to the point where sometimes she didn’t consider it necessary. There were days when she just...didn’t feel like speaking. And she didn’t. Because she didn’t want to. Because she didn’t need to. Because people could understand her anyway.

Still, everyone was willing to listen when she felt there was something she had to explain in a way that was verbal.

“I love my husband very much.” She said, placing a lock of hair behind her ear. “But, still, sex it’s not...a huge part of our relationship because I’ve never understood. When you joked about it back at home, I would just assume you were just doing that. Joking. I...literally didn’t expect you were serious when you talked about experiencing that type of attraction. Because I didn’t. And it’s not that I think it’s repulsive or anything like that. I just don’t get what the fuss is about. When I’m with him...it’s...usually not my first option. To think about that, I mean. And he understands and respects that, which I appreciate a lot.”

The more she spoke, the more confident her tone became. It meant she was growing more comfortable with the conversation, and that her train of thought was getting itself together, nice and slowly.

As for Simon...he was strangely comfortable, too, because this felt like a mature, adult conversation to him. Like a safe space.

After all, he was serious when he told them he needed to talk (now that Evander wasn’t here, because Evander was...not very sensitive). Hence, he was very glad they were being serious about it too.

“I understand that Hugh’s not in the spectrum.” Kasumi cleared her throat. “But...sexuality is fluid. Maybe, if you were talking about only that, it could be a good idea to talk it over. Only if he wants to, of course, because you never know; again, we can’t just assume, because one cannot do that. It’s rude. But what I mean...it’s that, whatever that’s going on in his head, maybe he’s trying to figure it out by himself. It might have nothing to do with his sexuality at all, actually, because, after all, that was just a comment...but it all comes back to the same point. Maybe he just...needs time.”

“Hugh’s pretty dense, Simon.” Simon saw the steamy cup in front of him, but he didn’t realize what it was until the smell of black coffee reached his nostrils. He hadn’t even noticed Tamaya was making coffee.

“Thank you.” He whispered anyway, as Tamaya leaned against the table, putting her weight on her elbows.

For all he knew, and all he cared about, it was pretty easy for people to judge Tamaya and label her as a bad person; she was quiet, although not in the way Kasumi was. On the contrary, she was rather serious, and her resting face was more intimidating than it was warm or welcoming. She was also really bad at controlling her temper, which didn’t help at all, but she wasn’t as bad as people wanted to portray her, or as bad as the recruits talked about her in the halls. Because, when it came to the recruits, Tamaya was strict, yes.

But somebody had to be, because being a Renegade was not a game, and the great majority of the advice she gave was extremely useful and clever.

Tamaya was caring.

Deep, very deep down. But she was.

“He’s pretty dense, but…” She sighed. “Most of the time, that’s not his fault. It’s not a good thing either. It’s not healthy for him and we shouldn’t condone it...but yeah. He can be pretty dense sometimes. He’s like that, most of the time it’s not his fault but...I don’t think you should feel like it’s yours either.”

Simon couldn’t help but flinch a little.

The thing was...he knew that.

It might’ve sounded crazy coming from him, but he knew it wasn’t his fault, even if his anxiety was determined to convince him otherwise.

Also, he was one to know that one couldn’t just fix a person. That’s not how mental health worked; of course, a romantic relationship or a relationship of any kind was a huge source of support and stability, but he knew it wasn’t enough to “heal” a person.

He knew about that, just like he knew that Hugh loved him and he loved Hugh, but that didn’t mean they could fix each other. They could make it a little better, yes; hold each other when things were rough; let the other know they weren’t alone.

But…”fixing” the other.

Not really.

They were humans.

They were people.

And the only thing people could fix, were objects, not other people.

“Like Kasumi said, sexuality is fluid, but it might as well not have to do anything with that.” Tamaya continued. Her voice sounded...soothing, strangely motherly. And she was calm.

Very calm.

It reminded Simon of someone.

They both reminded him of someone.

“Hubby and I, we both experience sexual attraction. It’s an important part of our relationship, and we enjoy it, but sometimes it’s just not the right time. He’s a doctor, I’m a Renegade Council member, and we have three wonderful boys together. Sometimes we don’t have time, so we just sit by the balcony to stargaze, holding hands, or we go out on dates like high school sweethearts, and I stand by the doorframe waiting for him to tell me I look pretty.”

Simon laughed a little.

It was evident she was trying to play it off as something dumb, but he found it absolutely adorable.

“And sometimes I’m too tired or he’s too tired, and that’s normal. It’s not our fault, and it doesn’t mean that we love each other less because…”

“Having sex doesn’t define love.” Kasumi said, and Tamaya nodded.

“Exactly.”

But again.

Again.

Simon knew that.

He really knew.

Hugh and him had busy schedules too. They both were Renegade Council members, and Hugh had it worse because not only was he a member, but also the leader of the Council. He had to be everywhere, at the same time, and people tended to think that just because he was invincible, it meant he didn’t have the right to feel emotionally drained, or at least tired.

Of course he was going to be tired.

He wasn’t a robot.

Hence, Simon understood what they were trying to say, and he agreed with Kasumi and Tamaya.

But the problem was…

He wasn’t referring just to that.

It was...part of the problem, yes.

But now that he knew their opinion about it, he had come to the realization that he still felt...empty and lost. And just...frustrated.

“We’re not only talking about sex, are we?” Tamaya asked carefully, and Simon refused to stare back at her, as he took a sip from his coffee, before answering:

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well...If you’re telling us this, it’s because you do want to talk about it, right?”

“I do. Yes.”

“Well. We’re listening.”

At the same time Tamaya spoke, a cold, little hand, laced between Simon’s.

A hand that felt like the sea and, even if he hadn’t known she was the only person in the room besides Tamaya and him, he would’ve recognized it as Kasumi’s.

So Simon squeezed her hand back.

“We’re listening, Si.” She confirmed. “We’re here for you.”

He knew that, and it was something he was extremely grateful about.

Now he just had to figure out how to put into words what he was feeling, because at this point it felt impossible for him to know.

There were just...so many things, but at the same time such a limited number of details he could recall.

It just felt...unreal.

And weird.

Very weird.

But Simon didn’t feel numb, unlike anyone would’ve expected from him.

In fact, he felt so sad he couldn’t even cry.

And it was the worst feeling ever.

“I don’t know.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I just...don’t know anymore. It’s just...I…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” He clarified. “...But maybe that’s why I don’t know what it is.”

For the shortest second, Simon came to the realization he was talking to himself instead of talking to them, or perhaps it was something that, deep down, was giving him the answer to why this whole situation was making him so uneasy and upset. Like, of course it was making him this upset. It was his husband they were talking about. Hugh was his fight. Hugh was…

Simon didn’t know.

But what he did know was that, maybe, it had nothing to do with himself, and that’s why he just couldn’t…

He just couldn’t understand.

Why couldn’t he understand?

Why did it have to be like this?

“I want to know what it is.” Simon took a deep breath, trying to make himself understood; trying to make them understand what he couldn’t. “...So I can...make it better...So I can...help him. So we can...look for help together.”

Simon scratched his brow with his free hand.

“But he’s just… so cold. He doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t come closer. He doesn’t...do anything. We don’t do anything. And I can’t help but feel like...he’s not here, even though he’s…” Simon scoffed, painfully. “...He’s right there, in front of my face.”

His eyes became fixated on a blank point, as if he were staring at an invisible Hugh, who wasn’t staring back at him.

“And I want him to...tell me. Because if he doesn’t tell me, then I have no way to know what’s wrong. And if I don’t know what’s wrong...then I don’t know for how long I can take it, you know? It’s just...I can’t bear to stand there as he pushes me away.”

Kasumi started running her thumb through his knuckles, and Simon felt Tamaya’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them, gently.

“I’m just scared...that when he finally wants me to come closer again, it might be too late...and maybe I won’t want to come closer again.”

Tamaya’s hands stopped moving for a moment, and Simon could almost feel her and Kasumi’s shock. He hadn’t even planned to say that. It just slipped.

And when Simon noticed it had slipped, it was far too late for him to hold it back.

“Maybe you should talk to him, after all.” Kasumi said, slowly, and Simon stared into her eyes.

He didn’t realize that was the thing he didn’t want to hear until he felt nothing but hopelessness.

Emptiness.

Fear.

A type of fear that became more intense in the moment they heard the door opening, and that’s when Simon saw him.

Hugh was standing right there, staring, and when his eyes laid on Simon, he arched an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused and worried.

“What’s happening here?” He asked. “...Si? Are you okay?”

Are you?

Simon didn’t want to answer. He really didn’t.

He didn’t want this to be about him.

He didn’t want Hugh asking him what was wrong if, harsh as it sounded, everything that was making him uncomfortable or upset had to do with him, not because Simon was blaming him, but because he was genuinely worried.

Let me help, Hugh.

“I’m...fine.”

Let me in.

“...Yeah. I’m...fine.”

Please, love.

Let me in.

Simon could see him hurting, but where he saw hurt, Hugh saw some type of burden that was meant to be concealed, committing treason against his own advice; dodging the sound of the voice of a younger Hugh, who guided a younger Simon through the dark, telling him it was alright.

That pain was alright.

And that pain didn’t make him less human.

Hugh’s pain, in particular, was a grey, bleeding shell that was so thick Simon couldn’t find a way to get in, and Hugh couldn’t find a way to get out.

So they just pressed their palms together through the bleeding shell, staring at each other's eyes through a polarized surface, that stopped their skin from touching, and stopped their lips from finding the other.

And the worst thing...was that Simon was craving that. He craved Hugh’s lips. He craved everything physical about him, just like he craved everything that wasn’t physical too. And he craved him so much he felt like dying every time he was close. He craved him so much it made him feel like a teenager again.

Which, in his case, wasn’t a good thing.

He wished it was.

But...teenage years weren’t fun if you had to spend them trapped in a closet. Things were never good when lived from inside a closet.

He didn’t want his life outside that closet to be like that too.

“Did you have an attack? ...Si, did you take your pills? … You did, right?”

“Hugh.” Simon heard Tamaya’s voice. “Is there...something that you needed?”

Hugh blinked, knowing that, maybe, he had interrupted something.

Mostly because it wasn’t like Tamaya was trying to hide it either.

“...Yeah.” He said, resting his arms on the nearest chair.

Tamaya pulled away from Simon, and Kasumi let go of his hand. They didn’t become fully focused, nor did they put on their “I’m working” mode either, but they did manage to...pretend. Even Simon managed to do so.

“Uh...I…” Hugh snapped his fingers in front of his own face, trying to remember what was it that he had to say.

“....Yeah.” He concluded. “Yeah. Uh… Tam. I need you to head downtown because they want you to supervise some of the floats for the parade. From...up, I mean. So you can check some of the details. I already checked from the ground and everything’s looking good, but now they want you to give them the green light.”

“Right now?”

“Preferably.” Hugh scratched his nose. “Were you...in the middle of something?”

Tamaya filled her cheeks with air, and then let it out, making a little trumpet with her lips.

“No.” She lied. “It’s fine. I’ll go. Just let me put some stuff in my locker, alright?”

“Be careful when you fly, okay? It’s kinda hot outside. If you get dizzy...”

“If I get dizzy, I’ll land. I know. I’m the one who’s flying.”  

Given that she was already heading by the door, Tamaya patted his shoulder, and they said goodbye with a very polite kiss on the cheek, before Tamaya left the room completely, and Hugh drew his attention towards Kasumi.

“Margaret White is acting out.”

Kasumi frowned. Deeply.

“Margaret...what?”

“Uh. White? You know? The Renegades’ ward? The kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know who Maggie is.” Kasumi waved her hands in front of her own face. “...Who named her that?”

“Who named her what?”

“White. Who on Earth…?” Kasumi clicked her tongue. “Nevermind, okay? Just...what did she do?”

“Zoomie, I had already told you.” Hugh laughed, confused.

“I thought you were being rude, Hugh.”

Margaret White was the Renegades’ protégé. Her powers consisted of detecting and attracting metals which, evidently, was not something that was out of this world. In fact, she had been recruited at such a young age not because she had extraordinary abilities, but because she was problematic as heck.

She was Max’s age, more or less but, unlike Max, Margaret had no chill.

Her life was ruined from the moment somebody saw her and decided that White was a suitable last name for her, Tamaya used to say.

Margaret’s skin was tan, and she had slanted eyes. Naming her “White” almost seemed like a tasteless joke.

Simon himself thought Hugh was just being disrespectful the first time he told him her name, and he had to hear it a couple of times before he just...accepted he was serious (and that Hugh himself didn’t seem to like the idea of her being named like that very much).

Maggie was really problematic. For real. She had been kicked out of a couple of orphanages already, and maybe she would have been kicked out of this one too, if it hadn’t been a prodigy orphanage, which happened to be under Kasumi’s management, meaning it was directly related to the Council. And they were supposed to make sure nobody got kicked out of there.

Simon liked Maggie, because he knew that there was a chance that everything she ever did had reason behind it. An emotional reason. Perhaps she wanted love. Perhaps she wanted attention.

Perhaps she just…

Wanted someone who didn’t give up on her at the minimum inconvenience.

So he just...tried not to.

Hard as it was, because Maggie tended to make it hard; Kasumi had tried to canalize her to a psychologist many times, but her response always was that “she wasn’t crazy” (perhaps because kids her age were mean and “crazy” was one of their favorite words to use as an insult) and...well...part of the process in children, was understanding when it was the right time and when it wasn’t.

Sometimes forcing kids into treatment made it worse, and Maggie was pretty mature for her age, while painfully childish at the same time. Respecting her space and giving her time was their only option, if they didn’t want to turn her into a ticking bomb.

“Are you for real? I’ve been addressing her like that for like…”

“Just tell me what the little bundle of joy did now.”

“Pff.” Hugh scoffed. “Bundle of joy.”

Then, he cleared his throat the moment Kasumi fixed a glare at him.

“Well...the usual. She stole something from one of the nannies, Carrietta Ferland saw her and she locked her in a cellar so she wouldn’t say anything.”

“She locked Carrietta Ferland in a cellar.” Kasumi rubbed her forehead, and before she left the meeting room, she squeezed Simon’s wrist.

She didn’t say goodbye to Hugh.

Simon didn’t, either, when he excused himself under the sort of cheap white lie he needed to wash his face.

-.-

But one could only wash their face so much, before their partner suspected.

When Simon didn’t come back, Hugh didn’t go after him. He never did at first.

As in…

Hugh always went after him, just not at first; over time, Simon had grown to accept it wasn’t a pride thing.

When Hugh left, he never wanted anyone to go after him, and he was the type to believe that just because he didn’t want something, it meant nobody wanted it; Simon had gotten used to it, because Hugh was his husband, and they accepted each other just like they were.

What Simon refused to accept, was the bleeding shell Hugh was inside of.

He hated it.

He despised it, especially at night. It would grow around Hugh in slow motion, and then he would bleed through, and the whole room would turn red, overflowing it with unspoken, suffocated anger and pain.

Hugh turned his back at Simon that night, so Simon turned his back at him too, not because he was mad, but because he didn’t feel like staring at Hugh’s back today.

Their room became as cold as an industrial fridge, as they both fell deep into the notion the other was not asleep, and that they both were listening to the sound of a room that was currently filled with deathly silence.

Deathly as the bone-chilling cold penetrating their limbs, their organs, and their everything.

Deathly as…

Deathly as feelings.

All the stored feelings, and the way Simon craved something he knew was right there.

Hugh was right there. Right next to him. And his body, which he knew so well, was laying next to him, turning his back at him, with every mole, every sun freckle, a chest wider than the rest of his body…

And one single scar below his rib cage.

The same rib cage that protected his heart.

Say something, Simon.

The same heart Simon had felt beating so many times.

Say something.

Anything.

Maybe…

Maybe this had a reason too.

An emotional reason.

Perhaps love. Or attention.

Say something. Anything.

Because you do go after people from the very first moment.

Slowly, as if he had never moved before in his life, Simon rolled to the other side, and as his trembling hand rested on Hugh’s arm, he became alert, awake as they both were, and he looked over his shoulder.

“Hugh?” Simon asked, the name leaving a familiar firm in his mouth that tasted like home.

He didn’t answer, because that was his name. Hence, he knew he was trying to talk to him.

“Come here, Hugh.”

And Hugh came over, hesitantly, rolling to his side too, as they faced each other, and Simon ran his finger through his face, just...exploring every spot he already knew, as if he were visiting his comfort place, of his favorite bench in the park.

His blue eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, and Simon felt he could’ve gotten lost in them and never come back.

But he didn’t get lost.

Because he had to find the love of his life first.

“I’m never giving up on you.” He whispered. “...you know that, right?”

Perhaps he didn’t.

But, on the other hand, perhaps he did. And Simon was left with nothing but the mere hope it had meant something.

“I’m never giving up on you either, Si.”

But Simon did know that.

Boy.

Did he know.

-.-

What he didn’t know, however, was the answer to the what.

He wondered what that had felt like.

He wondered what Nightmare had felt when, the morning after, she tried to shoot Hugh in the eye from a roof.

Not because he were mad at her.

No. Not really.

She was young after all.

He just wondered what she had felt.

[reblogcentre-2]

TW 

tw for: sh & trans stuff & blood & auto-surgery 

So you asked about my experience with auto-surgery. I actually wrote a vent fanfiction so I copy-pasted it & added more notes & stuff. The notes I added after are in ((here)) & the rest of it is my vent fanfic. The fanfic is p much accurate to the experience & any inaccuracies are pointed out ((in the)) notes.

I've dreamt about this before, but I never thought I would actually do it. It's completely an impulse decision. Well maybe not completely. I have the sense to find supplies first. Like a pack of razor blades. ...And scissors, toilet paper, rubbing alcohol, ice packs, a needle and thread, and a glass of water to keep me hydrated. I may be making a stupid decision, but I'll at least do it right.

I sit on the floor of my room, and take off my shirt. While holding an ice pack under my… on my chest ((don’t wanna say boobs)), I tie some fabric around my waist so there’s no bloody mess I have to clean. ((didn't work.)) Damn this ice pack is so cold, it almost hurts. Though, that's a good thing. It means my nerves will be numb.

Right.

I look around at my setup in confusion, I've lost my train of thought, ((adhd)) what am I doing what next- Ah, razor.

A thin piece of metal, flexible, yet strong. It doesn't glint in the artificial light. It's a matte metallic grey. I pick up my little prize, and having sanitized ((sadly not sterilized tho)) it in the alcohol and let it dry, letting down the ice pack. I bring it to the underside of my chest- but I can't see it. Disappointment. I put it down.

I need to get my fat ugly breast out of the way. Then it occurs to me- tape! ((I shoplifted this tape)) I use the tape to pull my chest up and back so I can see underneath it, or as much as I can, considering the size of it.

Now, I take up my razor. I remember reading about this one lady who gave herself a cesarean section with three long slices of a kitchen knife. She was a Mexican butcher. ((k so she had to go to the hospital after to get her intestines re-arranged I think. Also, this is what I would ask you to do, If I’m numb I won’t feel it so you can just boom three long swipes with a nice sharp chef’s knife & boom my boob is gone.))

Taking a deep breath, bracing myself for what's to come, I put the razor to my skin and pull. But I don't pull. I lift. I was too afraid, too cowardly to actually try. ((this is why I want someone else to do it)) Thankful to have lost some sensation from binding, I replace the ice pack and breathe again. Ok. I've got this. This is good. This is ok.

I lift the ice pack again, and this time I test my skin slightly. I… can't feel it. At least, not much. So, with the tape pulling back the offending tissue, I use my right hand to swipe across my left chest. It's barely a scratch. I try it again, this time closing my eyes before opening and doing the cut. It's much faster this time, and slightly deeper. How did she do it in three slices with her kitchen knife?

The blood is warm, and it drips down my chest. I unravel some tissue to dab at the blood. Then I make another cut, following inside the first, deepening it.

Yes.

I can't easily reach all the way across the bottom, so I'll have to settle for my scar being slightly on the inside. ((I can legit send a pic of the scar if you’re comfy with that)) I wipe the blood, then replace the ice pack. I need some more freezing. In a moment, I get back to it with the razor.

I can sometimes feel the pain, but I try to ignore it, or freeze it away. I keep slicing, wiping, and icing my chest. ((ok so only the skin felt painful & if you’re good, you can get thru the skin rly fast with the knife)) All the way until I see something unusual.

That's not skin.

That's… something.

Subdermal fat maybe? ((I had seen this already, but this was written as a vent fanfiction)) I keep going with the razor, another slash or two. Then I take hold of my scissors. ((oh the scissors were shit)) I can pinch my loose-from-binding skin to make a slight fold where I can use the scissors. So I do.

I use the scissors to open up the hole wider, ((idk if I actually did a lot of this or only a little bc scissors were painful af)) and I can see the fat in it. It's lumpy and greasy.

I'm disgusting.

It's a yellowish ((in culinary, the paler the fat the healthier the deer/animal. I think it might have just been discoloured from the blood. Btw there was no blood in the fat bc fat doesn’t have caapillaries)) white, made up of little bubbles, or maybe they just look that way because of the mutilation I'm committing. It's covered in red blood, so it looks more of an orange pink.

My gash is about 10cm long, maybe less. Probably less. ((I can measure if u want)) I use the scissors on the fat under the skin, and surprisingly, I can't feel it. I wipe up the blood, ready to strike again, but when I pick up the scissors I've bled again. I wipe again, pick up the scissors again, and prepare to slice again, again; but like last time there is too much blood. ((ugh I remember this, it was so annoying & my rag was already blood soaked))

I try to wipe it up enough to continue with my surgery, but I keep bleeding. and my ice packs are getting warm. ((I had to ask my brother to get me another ice pack but he brought me one that was only partially frozen))

So…

Shower.

I can do this in the shower.

I'm covered in blood, but the water would wash it away, keep it clean, moist, prevent it from clotting, and the cold water could provide numbing. Yes. I'm a genius. Shifting my pins-and-needles legs, I gather all the supplies I can carry, and peek my head around the corner. Nobody is coming.

Perfect.

I dash through the hallway, and my supplies are dumped on the washroom counter.

What do I do now? I… turn on the tap.

The cold water is uncomfortable, but I lean my body down, supporting my weight on either end of the tub, so that the water only runs along my chest. I tense as it cools the flesh. Then I step out of the shower, thankful that only my chest is wet, and try to keep on, but it’s so bloody. ((I remember thinking it literally looked like a murder scene. I was a Sherlock fan t the time))

It would make perfect sense to just bring my tools into the shower with me. I bring in two of my sharpest razors and my scissors, as well as one ice pack. ((I didn’t want the water to warm up the ice)) I run the cold shower over my laceration again, numbing it more, and once I’m done with that, I take my scissors and I put them inside.

Repeat repeat repeat. ((ok I think here is where I try to separate my skin from my breast tissue? I got such bad bruises bc I didn’t manage to take it all out))

Soon, I’m done separating the skin and extending the opening up a little higher. I keep rinsing the blood, the water runs down my entire body at this point, but I’m used to the cold.

I use my scissors to cut in deeper, I can’t feel it in the mammary fat at all. The scissors are opened and closed in rhythm, without being taken out of me between snips, and I reveal something that looks less like skin, and less like the bubbly pale fat. It might be a mammary gland- I’m not sure. It’s a different texture though, and-

Ouch! I can feel that! Damned fuck! I mean heck! ((I think I legit tried to not swear. I hurt a lot to cut that part. If it’s just done in one swipe tho it wouldn’t be as bad))

I water my wound again. I can’t have my body in pain. Just a few more seconds of cold water, and I can get back to it. Or maybe I should use my ice pack too… The ice pack helps freeze whatever that thing is, so I can cut through it with my scissors.

I’ve made a thick cut now, but I’ve seen surgeries before, I’ve watched so many videos of top surgeries, even some full surgery videos. I know what to do.

So I take my razor from the soap-bench in the wall and run it between the skin and my tissue until I get enough space for my scissors. ((oh! no- here’s the part where I separate the skin & get bruising)) My scissors go right between them, opening and closing as I move them around under my skin. I can see my skin stretch around them, like seeing someone’s legs under a blanket.

Now that I have it separated, I could maybe cut out an entire chunk. I rinse my scissors under the shower, and put them down on the floor of the tub, then I look down.

I’m covered in blood.

I open the shower door and look in the mirror across from me. It looks like a murder scene. There, my skin held apart by tape, a gaping slash under my- my breast, blood drips coming down from it, blood spread all over my torso from the water, blood in the hole in my body, ((yes a hole in my body, kinda wish I  took a pic)) blood bright red from being mixed with the water, blood clotting on my belly. I made jokes about some things looking like murder scenes before, like when working with food colouring.

Oh how I was wrong.

This is what a murder scene looks like. I’m so bloody. Part of me wants to take a picture, ((lol I was just thinking this!)) but oh hell (I mean heck) that would be messed up. As though I’m not already messed up!

Well I can’t stare, I have work to do. Work. I close the shower door, and bend down to pick up my ice pack, but I need to be careful, I don’t want to disturb my broken chest.

Numbing my chest again, I continue with this routine, pulling out chunks of my own body and flushing them down my shower drain like the serial killer I read about a little while ago. ((I don’t remember much about the chunks. It might have been less chunks than I’m making it sound. I have memory problems so : / ))

At some point I look in the mirror again, and I’m almost disgusted at what I’ve done.

My family probably needs to use the washroom, I’ve probably been showering for an hour now, they might get suspicious.

The smell is metallic & meaty, almost fishy even.

Thankfully, when I look down at my chest, it seems like I might be slightly smaller than before. ((not rly. It partially looked that way bc of the tape)) It definitely looks smaller than the one on my right. I haven’t been using my ice pack much lately. The blue liquid in the plastic pack has lost most of its cold.

I rinse off my less sharp scissors and razor, and spray all of the leftover bubbles of fat and drops of blood down the drain, trying to get the bloody footprints and handprints ((I forgot I made hand/foot prints!! If I had forgotten them mum could have walked in to pee & seen bloody handprints lol)) from the edges of the tub where I supported myself before getting used to the completely cold shower. I rinse off my torso, too now. Blood is strewn all over it, and some has dripped down to my legs, which has now dried. As soon as I rinse it off, I bleed some more. Ah. Well.

Onto the burgundy red floor towel I step, and I try my best to dry off my bloody chest and abdomen, but of the two rags I have, one of them is wet from taking it into the shower, and the other is already soaked with blood. Neither can help. I do my best nonetheless, and decide I should move on to stitches.

I know how to sew, and I’ve gotten stitches before, I should be able to do them. ((irl I                                  had only gotten stitches once & I already gave myself stitches once))

But I can’t find my needle, ((yeah I just couldn’t find my needle when I moved from my room to the washroom)) and the water hasn’t numbed my skin enough. Inside my body, in the fat, I can’t feel it, but, seemingly, I would still be able to feel it if I were to perform my own stitches.

Alrighty then, I can just tape myself together until I dry. But the tape won’t stick. ((ugh this was so annoying! I literally used all of my skin tape)) Neither will the bandaids. I have no sewing needle. I don’t know what to do, crap! I don’t know how to fix this! The tape won’t stick! Screw this fucking hell! I mean hecking heck!

Eventually, I go to my room. I put on my faux binder. It’s an old bra with a piece of fabric of my measurements sewed on the inside to compress my chest, the bra is just for the straps. Over that loose and torn excuse for a binder, I put on bra after bra, binding my semi-detached chest down so that I might be able to sleep without causing more damage.

I have a.. A thing tomorrow. ((practice for my baking competition)) I can go to the hospital a few blocks away from my school ((20 minute walk)) and get stitches there. Maybe they’ll even say I need to get top surgery an’ the gover’ment will pay for it. Yeah that’d be nice. I can jus’ wai’ ‘ntil tomorrow... and tomorrow I can take more ibe- ibu- ibupropen- ibuprofen... ((I wrote like this for the dramatic effect in the vent fic)) I can't take any more t’day. I’ll just go to sleep now n’ then I’ll wake up for school and when mom... asks me whaveter she asks I'll just tell her I have carpentry, and I'll tell the instructor that I’m not working today. ((irl I went to culinary, then told my teacher “actually I’m going to pick up my supplies to practice with & skidaddle”)) He’ll unsterdand, it’s not like I have school, it's the teacher’s comvemtion, I’m not obligated to stay, I can lust jeave. Mum will be none the wiser. Yah. Sleepy time. Hospital tomorrow. 

((so yeah. I go to sleep & ppl always say they can’t sleep on their sides so I tried that but I couldn’t handle it so I slept on my side while hugging a pillow to make sure nothing fell. I’m shaking too. Tbh I was just thinking “I’ve been in the bathroom for an hour or more, why has nobody knocked asking to brush their teeth?” I wake up the next day & put on a button-up shirt bc ppl say they can’t lift their arms, I practice walking on google maps to the hospital, then mom drives me to school. I had my learner’s license but I didn’t want to drive bc of my injury. I go in, I tell Chef I’m leaving, he’s cool abt it. So now I’m loaded up with a huge backpack, it’s february in canada & I forgot a jacket (bc I was driving in a warm car to a warm school & busy planning other things), I also brought my fiddle bc I waited for 4 hours last time & was bored, & I have a huge toolbox & a tub of fondant. I walk 20 minutes to the hospital, get in, & I need to change from my mask to the hospital mask. I go through talking to ppl & stuff. Eventually I’m called up for triage & I tell the guy what’s up (& take my meds bc I forgot that morning & she thought I was doing drugs) & sheasks me for my healthcard number & stuff. I think she was able to put my preferred name in the notes. I’m unbuttoning my shirt & she says “actually come in here” so I go into the nurses’ station & she peels up my bras a bit (apparently I’ve bled) & she’s like “wtf bro” & I’m like “what?” & she’s really concerned that I wanted like 12 hours to come. It was like 9-10pm that I was doing it & it was probably 10am at the time I saw her idk. So she gets me into a private room immediately I think (idk I might be mixing this up with the hospital trip where I had to wait for ages. Idk whether I had to wait here too.) Oh I forgot, I also plucked my violin while waiting for triage or to get called to a private room, but I wasn’t allowed. So eventually (really soon by hospital standards) I get taken to a private room. They get me to change into a gown (all of my bras off too) & now my breast isn’t secured. So while I’m waiting I play my fiddle & look up chords on my phone. Everyone likes it. The nurses & doctors & porters are like “where’s that music coming from?” & “It’s like we’re at the beach” bc chords on violin sound like chords on ukelele despite the fact that I was singing mostly mother mother. Ppl come in a lot tbh. I think the doctor comes in but he says “my shift is over soon & you will take a long time, bYe!” also I’ve been asked so many times if this was a suicide attempt & I’m like “nah bro if I wanted to be dead I would be, I’m not actually suicidal anymore.” Eventually a porter comes to move me from my nice private room to some curtained one. I’m plucking my violin quieter but some fuckin security guard says it’s loud & might be disturbingother patients so I play a really quiet eidelwisse & then I think I might stop. The guard called me miss too & it sucked. Eventually the doctor on shift comes & asks me about things & why & he’s also got his hands on my boob. (when I saw the first doctor he asked if I needed a female doctor & I was like “nah dude ur a doctor & I’m a trans.) So he’s going to sew me up & at some point he asks “tdo you want me to take the rest off?” I’m super confused until I realize he’s making a joke: “do you want me to finish the job & take the rest of your boob off?” so I laugh & say “I wish” & he says “I’d do a horrible job” & I’m like “BRo I AlreAdy did a hOrrible job!” so that was funny. He also asked me about trans stuff bc he didn’t understand a lot (he was respectful even tho he didn’t understand) & he even suggested I claim back pain to get a reduction. I have back pain (mostly from binding). Anyways he drops the needle with novacaine or whatever the hell& needsto get a new one & nobody can touch it bc it’s sharp. A few times it hurts but it’s fine I just close my eyes. He asks “do you need more anesthetic?” & I’m like “bro I did this with only a fucking ice pack” but w/o the swears. I ask him if I can bind after & he’slike “idk” so that was fun. I have a dip in my scar now. Then a nurse comes in & puts a fuck ton of bandages & gause on me but it’s stupid bc I was lying doen & as soon as I stood up (& worse when I put on a bra) it changed everything. So they give me a bag for all my bras & I walk back to school. Now it’s like 15.00 or 3 o’clock so I get back to school… & my phone is at 1%. I text my mom “hey I’m done at school” on google hangouts but my phone dies before I know whether or not the message sent. Chef is already gone, so I can’t get into the school. I can’t call mom. I walk around for a bit, assuming she’ll pick me up when she thinks it’s time. Nope. I’m outside in the cold. I start knocking on doors asking for a phone but it’s fricking covid season! I walk to a nearby coffeeshop & borrow the phone of a nice couple. Mom got sus of that. I warm up in the nice coffeeshop, mom takes me home, but she knows I skipped practice. I think she even called my chef. So yeah that was stupid. I told her “haha I went to get drugs” but she didn’t believe me & also what kind of a lie is that? She knew I cut myself, I guess I just didn’t want to worry her or have her demand to see or cry & ask me why I felt the need to change my body. I’m pissed off that she caught me (she caught me last time I gto stitches too). I can’t jump anymore *& I’m wearing my size-up binder. The doctor told me to scrub my stitches in nthe shower, the nurse told me to wrap in in plastic wrap. I’m wearing button shirts for ages after this, I’m avoiding lifting my arms, everything sucks. Whenever I think of it, I could smell it. I smelled the blood. Every time I smelled a glass that was washed in a dishwasher, I smelled my injury. Every time I remembered it, I could smell it. I don’t get that anymore but I was literally in mild shock & I think I may have traumatized myself. There’s more to say but I forget it all & idc so good night))

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

The Girl in The Blue Dress

Chapter 22: The Final Attack

@megatraven and @catlovingwitch and @aallotarenunelma

Heheh >:)). This is the end of this lifetime!! I believe I've said it multiple times, sorry if that's a spoiler lol. BUT YEAH!! I hope you enjoy!! It has fighting, emotions, and some lore.

And btw, this war isn't necessarily history based and written properly. and probably bad. I just kinda wanted it to lead up to Rose's death and I'm just saying that bc like...ancient greece's wars were different and I'm just giving that information lol.

There is proofreading but if something is off or spelt wrong, then my bad! But I hope you enjoy!

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The next day was the start of the war. Everyone woke up early, still getting ready. Apollo felt ready, but that's because he was a God. He had this power always ready, but everyone else didn't. Especially, Rose.

He practiced with her even more that morning, and he could sense her anxiety. She was distant, giving short replies, and focusing on nothing more than her training. It had been normal recently, and he didn't like it, so when he got her alone, he tried to tell her everything.

They were standing in the war room, ready to leave for the battlefield, both already in armor, and waiting for the other to speak. Rose stood on on side of the table, and Apollo stood across from her.

"Rose, I know that you're uncertain of your feelings, but I have to tell you how I feel," he told her.

She didn't say anything for a few moments, her mind not knowing what to do. "How do you know?"

He paused and felt confused. "How do I know?"

She nodded and took in a shaky breath. "How do you know what you feel? It's too hard." She looked down at the table. "My heart feels weird and heavy, and I don't think it's because of the war."

He stood in silence, making sure she had her time to speak. When she was done, he walked over to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's hard to know, Rose. It's like that for everyone. This won't make sense, but you know when you're in love. It's when you feel a feeling that you've never felt for anyone else."

She placed a hand over his and slowly looked up at him. She had a small smile and her eyes seemed to glow a little. She turned to face him and moved his hand to be against her chest. "I think I get what you mean, and I think I understand my problems. Andy, I-"

The door opened before she could speak another word and they looked over to see a warrior in their armor. "Hate to interrupt, but it's time."

"We're coming," Rose replied. Her voice was confident, but Apollo saw right through her. She was scared. Once the warrior left, she looked back over at him. She cupped his cheek and rubbed his cheek with her thumb. "Live for me, please."

He placed his hand on top of hers and smiled. "I will if you'll live for me," he asked her. This would've seemed like an innocent question, a lover wanting a promise, but this was more than an ordinary promise to him. He knew she was getting to the end, or at least close to it, and he needed something to comfort him during this. If she promised him that she'd try, then it would ground him.

"I promise you that I will live today," she said with confidence. That confidence made his heart ache, but she didn't know that, and it was okay. She squeezed his cheek once and pulled away. "Come on. It's time to face this head on." She exited the room and he followed after her.

.

They walked to the front lines and listened as Anastasia said some few words. Apollo got to see the king standing amongst his soldiers, ready to fight. He looked at Rose and gave a cruel smile, but Rose didn't back down. She bared her teeth at him and showed no fear. However, Apollo drowned out most of the words and sounds. His mind just focused on how he would fight, what he would do, and how he could protect Rose. He knew she was strong and able to defend herself, but there were many soldiers here, and he promised he'd protect her, and he didn't intend to break it.

He only tuned back in when he heard the other soldiers shout as they ran towards them. He shouted back and readied himself to fight.

And fight they did. The shouts as soldiers clashed together rang in his ears, the sound of metal on metal hurt, and he got hit several times. The spears made it easy for them to attack him, but he used that to his advantage. When they thrusted it towards him, he'd grab it at the last second, pull the soldier towards him, and end them in a few seconds. Part of him was disgusted at this, but another part was excited. The rush went through him and it went on for awhile. He didn't know how long it was, but when he finally looked around him, he saw that there were only a few warriors left.

However, his attention was brought to something else. He saw Rose and the King fighting at their own part of the field. She was blocking his spear with her own, jabbing at him and pulling back when he jabbed back. He saw her let out a shout when the spear scratched her skin, almost stabbing her. It made him panic and he almost ran over to her, but he saw other warriors running towards him. He knew she could handle herself, so he let her fight her own battle and focused on his.

.

He let out a shout of his own when he ended the warrior below his feet, and he looked around to see many bodies and a few more warriors fighting, but far away. He let out a sigh and he knew his power was running out. He felt like using the rest to help the other soldiers, but that thought went out of his mind when he heard a scream. This was a scream of pure pain and he knew who's voice it was.

He turned to the direction where it came from and saw Rose on her knees sitting up straight, blocking the Kings spear with her own, and bleeding from her side. It could've been a mere scratch, but he knew it wasn't. He knew it was worse than that, so he didn't wait anymore. He began to run towards them, pushing many warriors out of the way, even if they were on his side. He saw them talking and he could imagine her saying the most vulgar things she'd never said to anyone else.

.

"I guess this is the end for this mercenary," the King said through his teeth. He pressed his spear down harder.

Rose bared her teeth back at him as she groaned at the strain. "Even if it is, you know we've already won."

"How so?"

Rose groaned as she pushed the King back in a sudden sprout of strength. He fell on his back and she moved to be on top of him. "Because you will die," she said with venom in her voice. She raised her spear in the air, the tip pointed down at the kings head, and was moving to end him, but stopped when she felt a sudden pain in her stomach. She gasped and looked down to see the King's dagger stabbing her. She looked back at the King and he smiled.

"This is your end and you should just accept it. Get ready for Tartarus!"

After a moment Rose gave a small chuckle and leaned closer. "Well, if I die today, then I won't be going alone. I'll drag you down with me!" She thrusted her spear down, it's tip landing right through the King's head. It was a gruesome sight, but she felt relief when she knew the King was dead. She forgot about her injury for a moment, but only a moment. Her hearing went a little fuzzy and she felt dizzy and she knew this was it. Her body had gone through enough.

She let out a breath as she fell to the side, her body going limp and her consciousness fading. The last thing she felt was someone touching her shoulder and pulling her onto her back, saying something to her.

.

.

Apollo saw her fall onto her side and he felt his heart stop. He ran even faster to her, and when he got to her side he got on his knees. He pulled her by the shoulder onto her back and looked at her. Her eyes were almost completely closed and unfocused, her breathing was shallow, and she had blood everywhere. He began to breathe faster in panic, but managed to scream out to the others for help.

He held her cheek and made her look at him. "You'll be okay. Live for me," he told her. He watched her let out a noise, almost a word, and close her eyes as she went unconscious. He picked her up gently and carried her to the other warriors. They all looked over at him with worry and surprise and ran over to him. "She needs help! Now!"

The warriors nodded and explained that she had to be taken to the castle. "She won't make it that far!"

"She will if we hurry!" A warrior said, her voice filled with worry.

He nodded and carried her back to the castle. It wasn't a very far trip, but it wasn't close and he could barely hear her breathing. He knew this was it, he knew this was dangerous, he knew her time was up, and he knew this was goodbye. She accepted death in each timeline, now it was his time to accept hers.

.

.

When they got to the castle, guards led Apollo to a medic. There was an area for treating the wounds of the warriors, but the medic knew this was serious and more important, so he took her to another room in the castle. He grabbed all of his medicine and tools and made Apollo lay Rose on a bed in a room. It looked like a guest room, but it was still safe for her.

The medic made Apollo leave, and he did, but he didn't go far. He went and stood by the door. He was leaning against the wall beside the door and began to think. His head filled with terrible ideas, horrible memories, and gods awful things. Rose was dying and he had to accept it. But he didn't want to. Another part of him kept saying she could live, she would make it, and that this one promise would be kept, but he knew deep down it wouldn't be.

After a few minutes, his thoughts were broken when he heard a distant voice shouting for people to move. It was familiar and he knew it immediately.

"Oizys?!"

"Apollo?!" She yelled.

He heard her heels click against the floor as she ran to him, and he was scared to see her. Her sister was dying and he couldn't stop it. However, when she turned the corner and ran to him, she didn't look angry. She looked desperate.

She grabbed his arm when she got to him and panted her words out. "Please, let me be the one to see her."

"What do you mean?"

"The doctor. He won't be able to save her, but he'll make her stable enough for someone to see. Let me be that person. Please," she begged.

Apollo wanted to see Rose, he wanted to see her so bad. He wanted to say goodbye to her, but he wasn't heartless. He knew she deserved to see her more than he did. He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Of course. You deserve it."

Oizys let out a sigh of relief and let him go. She joined him on the wall as they both waited. It felt like agony, but they knew the doctor was doing all he could. He was going through every method he could, doing everything he could to save her, and it took time. Time they were more than willingly to give.

They jumped when they heard the door open. Oizys got in front of the doctor with a frantic look. "Is she okay?"

"She's stable, but she won't make it."

"Can I see her? Please?"

The doctor thought for a moment, but nodded with a sigh. "She might not be fully conscious or even able to respond, but you can go see her."

She smiled and thanked the doctor as she practically ran into the room.

She opened the door and looked at Rose. She was laying on a bed with bandages wrapped around her middle. It went from her collarbone to her stomach. Multiple spots had blood stains and it was clear the blood was barely stopped.

She was going to die. This wound was the last one she would be able to handle.

Oizys shut the door harshly and ran to the side of the bed. She sat close to where Rose's middle was, and reached for her hand. It was barely warm. She was barely hanging on.

She took in a shaky breath and spoke in a whisper. "Rose, can you open your eyes?"

Rose groaned as if her voice was too loud, even though it was so soft, but she slowly opened her eyes and they focused on Oizys. She was slightly leaning down to be closer to her and when she saw her blue eyes, she smiled.

"Hey, Rose. I'm here for you." She said all of her words slowly. She didn't even know what to say to her. Yet, Rose smiled at her and squeezed her hand slightly.

"Hi, Oizys." Her look turned to confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Oizys smiled at the fact that she could still speak and realize that she was here. "I wanted to see you before you go." Her voice cut off at the end, her sadness slipping through.

Rose let out a little laugh that ended in a cough. "I guess this is my time?"

Oizys nodded and looked down at the bed sheet as she thought. She didn't know what to say, what to talk about, or what to do. She couldn't do anything. Her sister was dying in front of her eyes, and yet she couldn't do anything but sit and hold her.

"Don't look so sad," Rose said in a soft comforting voice. She sounded like a mother. She reached her other hand up and placed it against Oizys cheek.

Oizys looked back at Rose and she saw her eyes watering. It in turn made her own eyes water, but she couldn't let herself cry. She held them back and held the hand that was on her cheek. "I'll try for you." She leaned into Rose's hand and closed her eyes. "I'll always try for you. Always."

Rose closed her eyes as a headache started to form. She pushed it aside and tried to focus on Oizys. She opened them back up and took in a painful breath to speak. "Did they let you in here?"

Oizys opened her eyes and nodded. "I had to beg to get in here," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Dang. They almost never let anyone see someone."

"Well, I'd do whatever it took to come and see you."

Rose groaned as the headache came back with a sharp stab of pain. It was gone as soon as it came, but the headache was still slightly pounding. Oizys gasped quietly at the noise and grabbed one of Rose's hands, holding it against her chest.

"I know it hurts, but please try to hold on," she begged. She held her hand against her chest, right over her heart. Her heart was beating out of control and Rose noticed it.

"Your heart sounds like it's about to jump out of your chest," she said with another laugh. She was in pain, but she tried to keep things light. Like she always did.

Oizys nodded and smiled. "Really? I would've never noticed." Her snark caused both of them to laugh. They were like old friends even if they barely knew each other.

"I know I already asked, but why are you here? To see me off?" Her thumb stroked Oizys cheek to comfort her. She didn't let her hand go off of her cheek and it was a comfort to both of them.

"Yeah. I wanted to see you one more time. I wanted," she paused for a moment, "I wanted to know more of your stories. You're a mercenary, so you have to have some good ones."

Rose smiled and nodded. "I definitely have good ones. I remember when I went to collect fur for a woman, I went into the woods and got lost. But I didn't have time to just look around because I heard a growl from behind me. I turned around and saw a wolf a littles away from me. I jumped so high in the air and ran away. I eventually found my way back into the town, and thankfully the wolf decided I wasn't worth it."

Oizys smiled at that story. "I never thought you'd be the one to get lost. You're always the one guiding," she said with a fond voice.

Rose groaned again as another painful stab came. Once again, it was gone as soon as it came, but now the headache was a little louder and more painful. She pushed it aside once again and kept looking at Oizys. She tilted her head slightly as she stared into her eyes. "I never noticed your eyes. They're a slight red color."

Oizys eyes widened slightly and she nodded. "Yeah. They've been like that since I was born."

"Where are you from?"

Oizys struggled to find an answer. She wanted to tell the truth, but she couldn't. "I'm from someplace far away. I'm glad you don't have to see it. It's not that pretty."

Rose let out a noise of disagreement. "How could a place so bad let something so beautiful escape?" She gave her usual smile and Oizys's heart dropped.

"You've been there before," Oizys whispered out.

Rose closed her eyes as another stab of pain happened, and instead of the headache getting worse, it disappeared. It felt like a bubble popping and she suddenly remembered who she was and who the woman in front of her was.

Oizys noticed it as soon as Rose did. Those blue eyes of hers began to slightly glow and Oizys just knew she was back. "Elpis!" she gasped out.

Rose blinked several times before she finally could look at Oizys clearly. This was her sister. The Goddess of Despair. "Oizys...you're here," she said slowly. She felt like she was waking up from a long sleep, and her thoughts were tangled together. But she couldn't focus on it for long because the edges of her vision began to go black.

"Elpis?!" Oizys voice was loud and begging for her to come back, to hang on, but she couldn't.

Her grip on her cheek began to go limp and her body began to go cold, but before she closed her eyes, she gave one last smile at Oizys and a few words. "We'll meet again. I promise."

And then she was gone. Her eyes closed and her body went completely cold.

Oizys gasped and felt her heart shatter. "Elpis? Elpis?!" She called out to her in pain, needing to hear her again. She couldn't believe she was gone, she didn't want to, but it was clear she was. She was completely gone, and this time she was on the edge of becoming herself again. Her true self.

Before she knew it, those tears came rolling down her cheeks. She saw her sister finally, finally got to talk to her and almost had her back, but Fate wasn't kind to them.

Oizys let out a loud sob and laid her forehead against Rose's. She cried as she thought of her sister, the way she sang, the beautiful dresses she liked, and the person she was, not knowing that out that door, Apollo was waiting and heard her shouts of pain.

He felt confused as he heard her shout that, but he knew something was wrong. Something had slipped through Oizys, something big, and he had to know.

.

Once Oizys came out of the room, he asked to speak to her. He saw the tears still falling from her eyes and he knew this was bad. Something inside of her broke because of Rose and he wanted to know what. He wanted to know why she said Elpis, who that is, why she called Rose that, and what happened between them.

He walked her to another room in the palace. It was a spare bedroom and he sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn't relax and he knew she couldn't either. She was still standing, facing the closed door, arms crossed tightly, and he could hear her sniffling.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

She didn't say anything to him. Her throat hurt from her shout and it felt too tight to say anything. The only thing that escaped were quiet sobs.

He let her be for a few moments and he let his own tears fall. He lost her again. She slipped out of his fingers again. He turned his back for one moment and she suffered again. But after a few minutes he cleared his throat and did his best to be cautious. "Why did you say Elpis? Did someone enter the room when I wasn't looking?"

"No," she croaked out. "Rose is Elpis, you idiot." Her anger was rising at him. She didn't understand how he couldn't sense her power, how he didn't have any clue that she wasn't human.

"Who is Elpis exactly?" He was confused because he'd never heard that name, or he hadn't heard it in a long time.

"Like I said before, she's my sister." Her voice broke when she said 'sister'. That connection of theirs was hurting her.

"But how?" Apollo asked with confusion. He didn't know everything about family trees, but now he knew these were two goddesses he was talking about, and he had to know the history.

Oizys sighed and turned around to face him. Her arms were still crossed and she showed no emotion on her face. "We are both from Tartarus. We are daughters of Nyx. When she was put in Tartarus, she had six children. They have a father named Erebus, but then she had children with no father."

Apollo tried to intervene, ready to ask questions, but she held up her hand and he knew to be quiet.

"She had the Hesperides, and had twins. The twins are me and my brother, Momos, who represents blame and mockery. We are meant to go together." She looked down at the floor and Apollo knew she was upset.

"Do you still see him? Is he here?" He asked with curiosity. He didn't understand how this related to Elpis, but it had to. He spoke quietly, trying not to alarm her or push her. He didn't know much about Tartarus, but he knew it wasn't the best place to be, and it was clear it had an effect on her.

She looked back up at him and shook her head. "No. I do not see him. I wasn't close with him, anyways. The only thing he did was encourage my terrible behavior and make me want destruction. All until I found her," she finished with a smile. Her tone was lighter at the end and he knew who she was thinking of.

"You found Rose."

She nodded and looked out the window behind him. Her eyes were distant and she was remembering the moment, but it turned sad when she remembered everything fully. "I was living there with the other children, and it was dark. The feelings I felt were awful and it hurts to think about them now. But as I walked in Tartarus and lived, I one day found a girl." She closed her eyes and was running the events through her head.

"I was older, I guess I looked eighteen, and she looked the same. She was in a dark corner, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on her arms that were folded on her knees. She looked scared, and I couldn't help but walk up to her. I was drawn to her, and when I got close enough, she looked over at me and I finally got to see her fully. She had black hair, bright blue eyes that glowed in the darkness, and a blue dress."

Apollo smirked at that and huffed. "Just like always." He remembered every time he met her and what she was wearing. She was always wearing a blue dress and her favorite color was always blue. The only difference was that her eyes didn't glow and that her hair was brown.

She looked back at Apollo. "Yeah, I guess so," she said with a smile. She rarely smiled at Apollo, but them both having Rose in common made them slightly get along.

"I sat next to her and I could feel a warmth spreading through me. And I knew a coldness was spreading through her. We were both scared. I never felt that feeling before, and it was coming from her. At first it felt suffocating and I hated it, but after only a few moments, it felt natural and comforting, so I stayed. We looked at each other for a few moments before we talked. I told her my name and she told me hers."

"So she's just like she is now. Spreading warmth and love to everyone around her."

She shook her head. "No. It was more powerful. Just like me, she had an effect on people. Not just because of her personality, but because of her power. She was the light that managed to survive in the darkness, even with a dark force right next to her. She was born from darkness, yet was full of light." She explained Elpis's power to him, trying to make him understand who she was. Who she is.

"And we talked for a long time. I realized she was my sister when she followed me back to my mother. Nyx greeted her with love and her eyes lit up with a spark of something. I guess you would call it love mixed with happiness. She showed love to all of her children, but she never looked that happy at any of us. But Nyx didn't treat her different, which meant she was still in the dark." Her face turned to one of anger and her grip on her arms tightened. "It...made me really angry. I saw many of our siblings messing with her, asking her why she was the way she was, why she even existed, and I grew tired of it. Mother stopped it most of the time, but she couldn't stop them from following the urge inside them."

"Then how did you even get out? Isn't it impossible to leave Tartarus?"

"It is, but someone let us out. One day someone tried to take me and Momos to the surface. I didn't know why at first, but I felt fear. I wanted to leave to go to the surface, I wanted to be anywhere but there, but...I didn't want to leave without her." Her voice was shaky at the end and he knew she still felt fear from that moment.

"You didn't want to be without Elpis."

"Yes. I didn't want her to be there without me, and I knew that we could take anything as long as we were together." She laughed softly. "And I don't know how it happened, but when I was being pulled out, I felt a soft hand holding mine. We were surrounded by light and I couldn't see, but I knew it was her and I pulled her close. I woke up in a garden area soon after, and right beside me was Elpis. She was still unconscious, but alive. I felt relief until I found out who brought us here. Zeus came and found us and he was confused."

"He didn't expect two girls?

"No, he didn't. He expected me and Momos, but he knew she wasn't him. He was angry and didn't understand how she was there. I didn't realize why until I was told what my purpose was. My purpose was to punish the humans, make them feel the feelings I felt, make them do the things that I felt like doing deep down. I felt excited, but when I saw him look at my sister, my excitement was gone and replaced with fear once again. The king has a stronger influence than I do."

"And eventually she woke up. I helped her up into her own estate that was waiting for her. But then I was told that it was meant to be Momos and mine. All of it was meant to be for me and him. And when he saw that he wasn't with me," she paused for a second and he saw tears in her eyes. "He tried to take her away. He wanted to send her back because he didn't need her, he only wanted to punish the humans, but she wanted something different. She didn't even meet one yet, but she knew she wanted to protect them. She wanted to help them. She wanted the opposite of what I did, but I still didn't want her to leave." Her voice was tight and she was holding back more tears.

"That's when I met Aphrodite and Hades. They were with him and managed to calm him down and say that she could stay there. But only there. She couldn't go to the humans, she couldn't go do what she wanted. She could live on Olympus and effect them in any way she wanted, but they didn't need any more. They had enough. If she wasn't with me and didn't spread her own effect on humans, then the world would be a terrible, terrible place."

"Then, how did she do it? Zeus is very strict and the Gods follow his every will."

Her face went back to anger and she scoffed. "Well, I don't. I went to the world and I did what I did. I spread terrible things and I saw the world begin to turn into a dark place. It didn't happen instantly, but it slowly happened. I witnessed terrible things, and...I didn't want to anymore. Even I couldn't take that much. I went to her and managed to sneak her out. She was scared, but I comforted her and she was so happy. She met a few of the people in one town, and they smiled at her. I saw happiness in her and she seemed to glow. She spent time with them everyday and her idea was spreading."

"Idea?"

"The concept of Hope. The concept that the world isn't just despair, death, misery, and tragedy. They learned that the world is full of light, too, and they just needed to find it. And she helped them find it. She brought it to them and they accepted that hope and faith with no hesitation. It made me feel happy for once in awhile and I loved seeing her happy. I made sure she was safe every time she came down here." She smiled as she remembered every memory of her with the people, of her with her sister, and her living with her. Being with her.

"But, I eventually realized that my presence wasn't that great. The people feared me when I wasn't with Elpis, and I liked it. I liked that they still had fear in them, while also having hope and happiness. But I know my sister didn't exactly like that. She wanted just hope in this world with no sadness, but she knew that was not possible. And she didn't hate me for it either, she loved me no matter what. I could see it on her face every time she saw me. She knew I made people scared, but she still wanted to include me in every thing she did on the surface and on Olympus."

Apollo felt a pang of sadness in his heart. She found a sister she didn't know she had, let her into her heart, watched her get hated on, and then finally got her to a better place, only to realize her own presence wasn't good. They could be together, but they would contradict each other.

"I didn't want to hurt the people, I just wanted to make them scared and make them do whatever they wanted. My death, pain, fear, misery, and sickness only spread while I was there. I felt guilt, but my sister never pushed me away. She always invited me to go with her, to enjoy time with her, and continue to be with her. But I couldn't do it. I knew that I would keep hurting the people she cared for, so I left."

His eyes widened. "You left her?"

"She had Aphrodite and Hades and a few other friends. She had them! I saw the happiness on her face when we were all together, I saw it and I didn't want to ruin it. I wanted her to be happy, even if it meant I had to leave." She turned around to face the door, and those tears finally fell. They fell from anger and shame. Her head was down as she closed her eyes and remembered everything. "She was with friends, and I heard she was happy. I got updates from other divine beings and I knew she was safe. They always told me that she missed me, but she was safe. But then it went silent for years. The people stopped coming to me, but I kept living thinking things were okay."

She let out a sob and fell to her knees. Apollo got up quickly and moved to kneel beside her. Her head was down, hands were folded together on her lap, and more tears fell. He placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, and she didn't have the strength to push him away.

"And then maybe thirty years later, someone came back to me, but not with good news. I found out that...she died. She was murdered by someone, and the gods didn't even know who did it. How is that possible?!" Her anger was clear and her power was slipping out again. Her voice was full of pain and she didn't care how loud she was anymore. "And I learned that I have a niece! She has a daughter that I had no idea about. And Elpis tried to find me. She TRIED APOLLO! But they stopped her from going, they were afraid of her getting hurt, and I understand it, but why did no one come to me? I would've come back, but they didn't want me back!"

She banged her fists against the floor and sniffled. "But they didn't let her go. They knew my presence was bad, and they made sure I stayed and did my job like I was supposed to. I was supposed to cause chaos, and how could I cause chaos if I wasn't on the surface? They stopped me from seeing my sister and the next time I even hear her name, I find out she's DEAD!" She banged her fists against the floor again, pain going through them. "And I couldn't do anything...I just had to accept the fact that she was dead. I didn't know what to do...". She sniffled and coughed from the pain in her throat. "So I didn't do anything. I just...lived. I kept moving from place to place, never staying, never meeting new people, just letting my presence be known. I enjoyed it, but I also hated it."

She went silent for a few minutes, but eventually continued. She sounded tired and pained, and her power was back in control. "I was alone for so long. Until one day I felt it again. I felt that warmth come back into my life. It was there, but it was distant. She was distant, but somewhere. I couldn't find her, but you did." She looked up at him and had a look of despair. "I couldn't find her, but you did. You helped her, but at the same time doomed her. I found her the third time when she was in the war. I was proud that she was still trying to find peace, but I also felt proud that she accepted not everything can be peaceful. She was learning, but I wasn't there. And then I found out she was cursed. I learned that she had already died twice."

She looked back at the ground and banged her fists against the ground. "I found out she was cursed and I couldn't do anything. I STILL can't do anything."

It went silent for a few minutes and Apollo wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He dealt with losing Rose, but Oizys dealt with losing her when she wasn't there. She didn't know how she died, why she died, she just knew she was dead, and she dealt with the grief hard. She didn't have anyone to go to, but he did. She felt the pain more than he ever could. And he would never suffer the way she does.

"I'm sorry," he whispered out. It was the only thing he knew how to say. It became a common thing for him to say.

Oizys didn't say anything in return, she only kept trying to pull herself together. And when she did, she stood up slowly and wiped her face. "Do not be sorry. We can't change what has already happened. We can only try to change the future." She sighed and walked out the room. She closed the door quietly and Apollo was left with the silence in the room.

He felt relief, sadness, and still confusion. Relief because he now knew who the mystery woman was. He knew why she looked like Rose. It's because she is Rose, but her real name is Elpis. She is a Goddess, who died at someone's hand, which caused the sadness. But then he was hit with confusion because...how did a human kill a Goddess? Why didn't Elpis find her sister? Why didn't they let her leave? Who is her daughter? How doesn't Olympus know who killed her? Many questions went through his mind and he knew he had to go to Olympus to find out.

.

.

SOOO!!! I!! LOVE!! THIS CHAPTER!! I hope y'all enjoyed it too >:)). There's a lot of sadness but also a little bit of lore. I was going to include another scene with Olympus after Oizys explaining to Apollo, but I changed my mind because this is already long enough lol. But yeah I hope you like it! It took me too long to think of the fight scene but it only took me like an hour today. Weird but yeah-

Once again: I did proofread but I could miss things, so sorry if something is wrong or messed up.

[asillydreamer-on-a-crazyworld]

I think it was a setup and the practicing and I’m gonna teach you was for this moment, everyone’s freaking out but I’m like bring on S3 lmao

LOL WORD!

Same here, anon.Same here. I’m not worried whatsoever for next season or even Brio.

 I think that since the beginning they were not meant to be a functional, healthy ship. And honestly? I don’t care that they are like that. Sue me. It’s good to have some dark tastes too when it comes to ships.

We learned yesterday that he actually just taught her how to shoot, probably LOL. And I understand Rio bc like I was talking about it with some friends here, the guy recognized parts of himself in Beth. They were so much alike. Rio knew Beth was a smart person, that she had it in her to be a king someday, and I believe that was why even with the “I’m giving u the keys to the king” thing he actually didn’t intend to give her shit.

 Not this kind of power or control. Rio knew Beth had the potential to become a boss bitch. He said it himself. He warned her that if she wanted to be the king she HAD to kill the king. And we saw a few times in season one, that she wanted to be. The show gave us all the hints: from how she organized that “book club” in her house, to how she lied to  Ruby and Annie when she said she went back to Canada and told that guy I forgot the name that Detroit was theirs, in episode 10, I think?

But Beth was still learning, still afraid of this dark side of hers, and fighting against it because she wanted to be a “good person”. But Rio showed her she was not 100% good. And so, I think Rio didn’t want to risk giving Beth any proper training at how to be a successful boss bitch bc one day she could bring him down.

She would be good competition if she embraced that dark side of hers. So he just kept playing the game, not letting her turn into a queen piece or a king, just being the pawn there.

And yeah, I do think, looking back at the season, that he used her to get rid of the FBI. Or at least use her in a way that would take the focus off him and on someone else while he tried to come up with something to be done with Turner and the FBI for good.

We all debated to the point of exhaustion about how Rio could have killed Boomer himself and his guys, right? And some of us believed he didn’t want to get his hands dirty and that the feds would quickly trace the murder back to him, and some said he needed to give Beth a lesson, bc of what he said to his son “clean up ur own mess”. I think both are true. He forced Beth to kill Boomer bc he didn’t want to get his hands dirty and avoid the FBI linking another murder to him and he also liked the idea of making her do it bc maybe in his fucked up head, shooting her hubby wasn’t payment enough for getting him in jail. 

back then I agreed that Beth had to take responsibility for Boomer’s mess and I still stand to it, since what she and the girls did only made it worse, but Rio and his guys knew who Boomer was. The idiot was getting paid to keep his mouth shut.

Another murder in Rio’s account wouldn’t have made his record worse. Also, he is doing this for quite some time now, Sure he didn’t have a way to make it look like it wasn’t him? But ok, maybe it was too risky with the heat he was feeling from the feds.

But here I wanna u to notice something: Rio started to push Beth harder here.

Following her around to the point it got creepy. And I’m guilty here bc Like many others I was all like “lol Rio is so fucked up. this guy is really into this weird game with her right?” but honestly, that was the first sign that Rio was not that stable.

Then, we had the Brio sex in the bathroom after she said she was out, and don’t tell me that for Rio was more bc I think for both it was like an itch they needed to scratch or the tension would be too much. But again, Rio forced his hand in his game when he came back again, this time at Boland Motors, to “propose” a partnership to her. Like she rly had any choice, right? RIO WAS THE ONE WHO CAME BACK. NOT BETH.

and she accepted. Then, came the “stay in ur little lane” comment and we were all like “wow, Rio. ok, we get it, maybe he is trying to protect her bc she can mess things up and they both will pay”.

yeah. This is right, but he was also protecting himself here, bc it was a huge investment he was making. Like Manny Montana said, at the end of the day, it’s all about Money. And she found out he did something behind her back even when he said they were partners and yeah his motives might be good for him but WHAT ABOUT HER? After all, he said they were partners and partners don’t hide things from each other. And like Beth said in the car with the girls, if something wrong happened, she was the one going to jail. HA. isn’t that what almost happened? Can you really say Beth was wrong here?

And Rio did nothing to help her with it. Which, ok, fair, she did it to him first. Like he threw at her face in a not very subtle way with his comment in the car back in episode 12.

But again, that was her checkmate to him when he took her out. So again, more proof of how these two are not that sane with this dangerous power play between them.

Next: the body parts he sent her. I agree with a comment Heather made on TT that this was the first sign that Brio would go downhill. Many of us didn’t even care that much and again, GUILTY UR HONOR. That was fucked up but EVERYONE EXCUSED A GUY SENDING A WOMAN BODY PARTS BC HEY, HE IS A CRIMINAL. But WHAT IS WRONG WITH US HERE, DRAGGING A WOMAN DOWN- NO MATTER IF SHE IS WHITE, LIKE HOLY SHIT THIS IS SOME FUCKED UP THING TO DO, SHUT UP- BECAUSE SHE WAS SALTY TO HIM AFTER GOING BACK AND SAYING THAT YEAH, SHE BLOCKED HIS NUMBER AND WANTED OUT? YEAH, IT WAS KILLING HER BUT HE DIDN’T EVEN GIVE HER A CHOICE AGAIN.

I think that if Rio waited just a bit more, she would go back by herself. She was dying to go back to the crime world. And she would eventually, but probably not with him as a boss, but Rio just liked to have her around so much…She entertained him.

But notice… AGAIN SHE DIDN’T LOOK FOR HIM. HE FORCED HER TO GO BACK USING SOMEONE ELSE’S BODY.

AND FINALLY:

Kidnapping her and trying again to force her to shoot Turner this time, bc yeah, I agree with Rio, I don’t believe Turner would leave Beth be, bc his reputation was ruined. He would lose the case he spent so many years, probably, working on.

now one question: He succeeded in kidnapping Turner and hurt him. Why did take him so long to do this?

Why didn’t he kill Turner sooner?

 Again, I think he was waiting for the best moment to do it. Maybe, just like he didn’t want to get his hands dirty with Boomer, he didn’t wanna the same with Turner. Good thing he had Beth there with him now, in the game.Right?

again, he was RIGHT. The man wouldn’t stop chasing her or him by default.

was this his “grand gesture”? in his fucked up mind I think it was. Manny himself said here that Rio is, and I quote: “ a dude that has a screw loose.”.

but I believe he was reaching his breaking point, acting on survival mode. He took his things out of the loft. He kidnapped Beth when I believe if he just called her, she would meet him there ( writers, EXPLAIN THIS!). 

but ok, it was done. But the way he kept pushing her, started to scream at her to just shoot Turner, calling her bitch, advancing on her? He lost it. And so did she. The pressure was building between them since episode 11, I think, and it finally exploded. 

She did what he wanted her to do in S1 but she wasn’t ready yet and I don’t think she was in 2x13. It was just a thing of the moment, not something she planned. She just acted on instinct, survival instinct, just like Rio did I believe, with his actions. U can see on his face he was surprised.

And then he laughed at Turner when he was laying on the floor, bleeding.

Rio set up the grand finale to his game with Turner, even getting that camera on his place to again mess with Beth and honestly, this was all fucked up since the beginning.

he always bet high on his moves in this thing with Beth. They both don’t know much about the other and people can surprise u in bad and good ways.

 I honestly don’t think Rio will be furious with her, not long.  The woman actually had the balls to shoot him, a crimelord, well know in Detroit streets, and she just got three bullets in his chest.

I think he can kind of respect that. But of course, it will be hell for Beth to pay, bc the king will get his crown back. 

Beth is not ready to rule yet anyway. I think we’ll see that in season 3 but one thing I liked that the show let us know: Beth embraced this other side of her bc yeah, she is gonna be a mom still but she will also try to run her own criminal enterprise. She finally believes she can do this. Rio was a daddy and he could right? And I believe she will start with something small, obviously.

However she will struggle, and I wonder if word won’t get out that a mom, a Stepford wife, shoot the great Rio and almost killed him.

I wonder what she is gonna do when she finds out Turner saved Rio’ life in a way, bc I believe he did call 911.

I don’t trust Turner or his apparent truce with Beth.

I do believe Season 3 has a lot of potential. And I can’t wait to see how Beth and Rio will fight over their territory and how these two alphas will find common ground again. I agree that in season 1 Beth was the one who went to Rio and asked to be part of this world he lives in. 

 And I’m not saying she didn’t like it bc she did. but I think season 2 was her really struggling with what she wanted and how she wanted, and Rio didn’t give her any space to breathe bc he kept pushing her to just decide and get done with it.

Manny said Rio liked the girls and especially Beth around and that they made things more interesting. I think he knows his character enjoyed this cat and mouse game he had going on, but even when Rio felt something for beth money, again, was at the forefront of his mind. And with what Manny said about Rio, trying to find a way to understand this man mind takes way more than we thought. Let’s see where we go down from here.

[fuckthis-and-fuckthat]

His loss, My gain. PART 5

JokerXChubby reader

Summary- Not saying anything bc I’ll give it away!

Warning- No smut this time. It’s very triggering. Talk of self harm and suicide attempts. Please don’t read if you are triggered. Angtssyyyy! Don’t worry, it gets better next chapter. 

A/N- I made J like super soft but also super mean and rough. I love playing with the different sides if him and how the reader fucks with his head and heart. Not quite sure if the Joker has ever cried, but in my story he does! Well, not like ball out cry, just a tear. Also, I made Harley like a super bitch in here. I love her too death, though.

Part 1- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173544548545/his-loss-my-gian

Part 2- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173576126505/his-loss-my-gain-part-2

Part 3- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173650770775/his-loss-my-gain-part-3

Part 4- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173740290955/his-loss-my-gain-part-4

Part 6- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173765326075/his-loss-my-gain-part-6

Tagging- @haileysarahmarie @xxqueenwxtchxx @indifitel6661

@i-m-p-a-l-a-6-7 @lovermrjoker

So, I completely forgot to tag you @indifitel6661 but, the masterlist is up there^^^

Joker’s point of view.

Joker’s point of view.

She was driving me crazy. Her smell was on my clothes, in the bed, in my office. It’s like she ripped herself apart and placed pieces of her inside of me. I need to get her out and soon. The sooner we get the show on the road, the sooner she won’t feel anything and she’ll be numb. If she feels nothing for me, I won’t feel for her. 

I couldn’t even look at her as I walked by her. If I did, I’d lose my hair and flip the tables. My head was turning and I couldn’t think of anything but her, and I needed to clear my head. I texted Lucas and told him to bring around the car. 

Right as we walked out the house, my feet stopped in their tracks, meeting faces with a very pale woman with red and blue hair. Harley. I nearly spat at her and killed her, but also curious to what she wanted. Grabbing her by the hair, I slammed her into the back of the black SUV.

Pulling out my gun, I aimed it at her head, making her frown. “Whatcha’ doin’ pointing a gun at me, puddin’!?” She squeaked. I surely did not miss that obnoxious voice and accent. 

“Why are you here?” I growled, pressing the gun against her head. 

“I heard yah replaced me, puddin’! I couldn’t sit here and do nun! come ooooonnn, didn’t yah miss me, daddy?”

I didn’t miss her, but she was exactly what I needed to get my mind off if Y/N. I looked down at my phone when it buzzed, noticing it was a message from Fost.

-Y/N left. Brick took her to her apartment and to her editor. Said they wouldn’t be back for an hour or two.

I growled and threw my phone across the car. Opening the door, I stepped out onto the side walk in front of the house since we never left. How did I miss Y/N leave? Grabbing Harley by her hair, I dragged her into the penthouse and up to my room, pushing her on her knees.

“Show daddy how much you missed him.” What am I doing!? I was screaming at myself for doing this, but it had to be done. I was falling too hard for Y/N and I needed Harley to get my mind off of her. Although, it is true I hate the bitch, she gave pretty good head, but not better than Y/N. No one was better than Y/N.

Growling at Harley, I ripped open my pants, pulling out my cock and shoving it in her mouth. She quickly wrapped her lips around my length, bobbing her head back and forth. 

Closing my eyes, I tried to picture something other than Y/N, but all I could think of was how perfect she was, how her mouth felt on my dick and her pussy clenching around me. I gripped Harley’s hair harder, shoving my dick into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat, making her gag. 

I looked up, meeting eyes with a pair of vibrant Y/E/C ones. There stood Y/N, eyes wide and bloodshot at the door. I wasn’t thinking clearly and didn’t think about shutting the door. Before I could do anything, she slammed the door closed, darting down the stairs. I was quick to pull Harley away, throwing her across the floor, making her scream. 

Tucking my shit back in, I ran down the stairs and to the road, watching as Y/N’s new lambo sped down the road. Screaming, I got on my phone, calling the henchman and letting them know to find Y/N and tie up Harley. 

I jumped in my car as fast as I could, going straight to Y/N’s house, finding her car there. Running upstairs, I ran through her house, finding nothing but a note on the mirror written in lipstick. 

You fucked up, J. What ever happens to me is your fault. 

Xoxo, the soon to be new Harley Quinn. 

“AAHHHHHH!” I punched the mirror, sending shards of glass flying, some cutting my knuckles. I sprinted back to the car, tracking down Y/N to the chemical plant. My knuckles were bleeding all over the steering wheel and were squeezed tight as I hurried there, hoping to get her in time before she does anything stupid. 

Hopping out of the car, I run into the building, finding the stairs and jumping up them, finding Y/N standing at the edge. “You come near me and so help me, I’ll kill you.” She says, holding up a gun, I notice how blood drips down her arm, dripping underneath her long sleeve Shirt.

“Y/N, please, baby. Put down the gun and come to me.” My voice was soft and trembly, filled with nothing but emotion.

“DON’T CALL ME ‘BABY’! You think you can call me that and try and sweet talk me after I walk in on you with your dick in some sluts throat!?” She lets out a maniac laugh, scratching her head with the gun. “Down Harley Quinn’s throat.” 

I take a deep breath, stepping toward her to where I can pull up the sleeve of her shirt. She lets me pull up her sleeve, smearing blood over carved leters reading “I hate myself.” Pulling over the other sleeve, there’s a huge gash down the middle of her forearm and is dripping blood heavily. 

I feel my Herat break in my chest at the sight if her. Blood dripping from her arms. I could feel everything inside of me break. The wall I built around my heart came crashing down and for the first time in years, a tear slipped down my cheek. The thought of me breaking her killed me. I couldn’t watch this girl...the girl that I was falling desperately...who I was IN LOVE with die. Not over me and not over Harley. 

Y/N’s eyes closed, wobbling lightly, but not enough to lose her grip on the gun. I tried smacking it out of hand, but she twirled it in her hand, hitting me with the handle. I grunted, moving my hand to my now bloody lip. I was trying to hold my composure, to not let anger take over me. I felt my eyes stare as she went completely insane. And then a tear fell.

“you think you can manipulate me with a fucking tear and try to take my gun....don’t, don’t you think you’ve hurt me enough?” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing and keep her eyes open. She was probably about to pass out form the blood loss, or die. “You know what, J? I love you. I’m...I’m in love with you. And If you cared...about me...” I watched as she stepped to the edge “you’d save me.” I reached for her arm, but was too late, she was already over the edge, falling into the bubbling acid. 

I grunted, walking backwards, thinking about leaving her, but I rip off my jacket.

Jumping in after her. I hit the acid, slightly burning my skin, swimming to the bottom and grabbing a hold of her and dragging her to the top. I took a gasp for  air, expecting Y/N to do th same, but she didn’t. I looked around us, noticing black swirling in the yellowish chemicals. I brushed my lips against hers, again, expecting her to make up, but she didn’t. Pressing down harder, the taste of chemicals envaded my mouth, still not waking Y/N. 

“J!” Looking up, I saw frost and my henchmen coming in. 

“Frost! Get us out! She’s not waking up!” I growled angrily, kicking over to the side and started to push Y/N up, letting the henchman grab her. I climbed out of  the chemicals, falling on to my knees beside of Y/N. “Come on, baby. I need you to wake up.” I looked up at frost eyes wide with desperation, somthing he’s never seen before...something I never felt before. 

“What happened, J?” 

“Harley happened. I couldn’t get my mind off of Y/N so I used Harley and she caught us. Then she said that she’d be here....and then....” I motioned towards her, my breathing ragid. 

“Why isn’t she waking up? Harley woke up.” Frost was looking confused, pressing his fingers to Y/N’s neck, finding her pulse. 

“Her wrists are slit.” 

“That explains why there’s barely a pulse. She lost a lot of blood. We need a hospital, J. Now.”

We barged into the hospital, Y/N in my arms, limp. Frost started screaming for a doctor, making multiple rush to us, stopping as soon as they saw who it was. 

“Save her and you won’t die.” I growled, placing Y/N on the bed. “Do I...make myself clear?” I pointed my gun at her as she nodded her head. “Good....now, she has a slit wrist and she jumped into acid. Now.....do your job...and save her.” The lady cut of Y/N’s top off and I watched as her lace clad breast came into view. Forcing my eyes away, I watched as she peeled her shirt off of her body, pulling it away from the dried blood. The cut was deep and thick, and the other arm with the letters craved into it was still bleeding a little.

“We need to hook her up to Iv’s and have a blood transfusion. If she looses too much blood then we’ll lose her for good. Sir, do you know her blood type?”

“A+.” I answered. How I knew, that’s a funny question. I had a file on her, I knew everything about her, I studied it day 

“I need an A+ and the Iv’s. Hook her up. She should be awake in an hour or two once we get her set up.”

Frost and I went home so I could change and get Y/N clothes so we could get her once she woke up. Frost’s phone started to ring and he answered it, a look of concern washing over his face.

“Sir, Y/N’s gone. It was the bat.”

[betterwithchocolate-blog1]

Sherlock/ Sherlolly headcanon

I tried to make it a bit more realistic/ different from what I usually see. Hope you enjoy! :)

Warning beforehand: Gory scenes, swearing and violence

Written by @betterwithchocolate​

Length: about 2000 words

***

It had been a rainy day in London. Though as nightfall approached, the gentle afternoon drizzle had twitched into a heavily pouring shower with wind so vile it scratches and burned every inch of exposed skin raw.

Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, was walking down Baker Street, thankful he had a large upturned collar to protect him from the harsh weather. He did not mind it, though. In fact, he liked the rain, especially when it came storming and breezing as heavily as it did tonight. It reminded him of himself in a way, of his unstoppable obsessive energy, of the way his mind could spin and race in every direction.

Ironically, the storm never caused his thoughts to run wild. The heavy rainfall caused doused the sounds of the city in white noise, and allowed him to think.

His feet splashed on the pavement as his flat came into view, and Holmes was immediately alerted towards the figure in front of his flat, sitting on his steps. The figure was hunched over, face in their hands, knees pulled in to the chest. They were unprotected from the weather, not even wearing a coat. From a distance, Sherlock could tell it, she, was a woman. 

As he approached the woman, more detail of her became visible. His mind starting analysing immediately, in the way he was accustomed to.

“Woman. White blouse. Approximately 1.60 metres tall. Blonde-ginger hair. No coat. Why? Did she lose it?  No. She chose to, otherwise she would’ve looked for cover. Hunched? Crying? Probably. Yes. Why? Six possible reasons. Not important. Who? Ginger hair, petite posture. Strong, unbothered by the storm. Molly.” 

As he got closer, he could see more detail of her face. “Blood. Injured on cheekbone and forehead. Two likely reasons for crying.”  Immediately Sherlock quickened his pace towards her and stopped abruptly before her, his coat moving after the sudden change of speed.

“Molly.”

She took her head out of her hands and looked up to Sherlock, she was doused in rain, though not crying. Sherlock noticed that the injuries were made by blunt object with sharp protrusions, and that they were somewhat more severe than he had initially thought, since most of them had been hidden in her hands.

She had cuts on her cheek, multiple sets of two gashes parallel to each other. One likely explanation. That arrogant prick-

“Sh-Sherlock,” Molly stuttered. “I can’t- I don’t know why-” She put her head in her hands again, but only for a brief second.

Sherlock took off his coat and wrapped it around Molly.

“Let’s get you inside.” He already felt the icy water leaking through his shirt. “Up you go.” He said as he helped her stand.

Molly wiped the rain and blood from her face, and Sherlock saw a tinge of pain move through her expression as she did. 

Sherlock helped her up the steps, making sure the coat protected her at all times.

“Mrs. Hudson! Tea!” He yelled as he opened the door for Molly. She was shivering a bit, but suppressing it.

Quickly enough, Mrs. Hudson stepped into the hall. “Sherlock, how many times have I told you that I‘m not your-” Mrs. Hudson was cut off by herself, the moment she laid eyes on Molly. “Oh dear, Oh dear, Oh dear!” Were the only sounds heard from her as she turned towards her flat, followed by the rattle of cups shortly after.

Sherlock helped Molly up the stairs. Her hands were trembling, her breath were quivering.

Upon entering his flat, he let go of Molly, and quickly fetched a pile of clothes from his room before walking back to her.

“Sherlock I want to explain...”

“No need. You are cold and dehydrated, likely in shock. Go take a shower first, warm yourself up, and make sure to clean your wounds.”

“But there’s more”

“Yes. I’ve noticed.” He said, and then thought he might’ve spoken too loudly. Quickly he added “Just go shower, we will discuss that after you get yourself warmed up. Okay?”

Molly nodded as she took the pile from Sherlock’s hands. “Okay.”

She walked towards the shower, but before she got in Sherlock turned around in her direction and said “Oh, and leave the door unlocked.”

She nodded again in understanding and then stepped into the bathroom with a small smile, even though Sherlock saw she was in pain.

He was going to tear Tom apart.

***

After Molly had went into the bathroom, he had put on his coat and went outside to face the heavy rain again, before getting in a cab and driving towards Molly’s flat, or rather several streets removed from it. The last few streets he crossed by foot with a steady, fast pace, hands in his pockets, collar upturned. He looked sternly on a fixed point in front of him, before shaking his expression as he climbed the steps in front of Molly’s flat. He put on a mask of friendliness as he rang the doorbell, as he so often had done before.

“Hello?” Tom’s voice sounded from the intercom.

“Yes tom hi!” Sherlock said, in a joyful tone. “Good to talk to you. I was wondering, is Molly home? There is a very urgent matter I must discuss with her”

“Oh hi Sherlock, No... She’s not at the moment unfortunately.”

“Oh. Good. Because I eh, actually, I came to see you.” Sherlock hated mistreating his sentences like this. However, he knew it would have the desired effect. There was a short silence.

“You, you came to see me?” Tom sounded positively surprised. “Eh, okay, yeah sure. Come on up.” His words were followed by the sound of the buzzer. Sherlock grinned. He had known Tom was gay from the moment he saw him. However, he now regretted not telling Molly about it. He just didn’t want to spoil her relationship like he did before, when he first met Moriarty.

He pounded up the stairs, letting his friendly face fall off of him like a brick, and taking off his shawl to put it in his pocket. When he reached Molly’s door, he knocked lightly. Tom opened immediately.

“Hi.” Tom had a smile on his face; Sherlock saw Tom’s knuckles were bruised. He felt disgusted.

“Hello.”

“Come in.” Tom opened the door a bit wider and let Sherlock through. “You know I doubted whether you were gay,” Tom started, as he closed the door.

The moment the door lock clicked behind him, Sherlock whirled and turned around towards Tom, cutting off his sentence. Tom started smiling, though Sherlock wasn’t smiling at all. Before Tom could start speaking again, Sherlock grabbed him by the collar with one hand, and gave a sharp hit with the palm of his other towards Tom’s nostril bone. His head snapped back, his eyes pressed shut with pain. His nose started to bleed. “What the hell!” Tom yelled.

Sherlock yanked Tom forward, letting him trip over his leg, making tom fall face first to his own living room floor. Before he could get up Sherlock quickly delivered a large kick towards Tom’s abdomen, making him curl up and groan almost pitifully. It was a kick enough to injure, not to maim. He probably wouldn’t feel a thing of it anymore in a week, in contrast to the pain molly would have to endure the following month.

“Please!” Tom yelled out, coughing out the blood streaming from his nose. “Please stop!” Tom wretched as Sherlock paused and looked down at him, his gaze disgusted. “I-I, What have I done to deserve this? Are you just doing this for fun?! You’re insane! Bloody psychopath! Get away from me!” He tried to get up, though Sherlock grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards the kitchen, in which molly had gotten stone flooring laid. When they reached the kitchen Sherlock dropped Tom the way a child would drop an insect after being told its toxicity, and then crouched down beside him.

“First of all,” Sherlock started as he held Tom’s neck backwards in an unnatural angle. “High functioning sociopath.”

“Second of all, you might want to look towards the bruises on your knuckles on your hand regarding as to why I’m doing this. Based on the intensity of the wounds, you must’ve hit with this hand at least seven, no, eight times. Quite recently, it appears, the scabs are still very fresh, wouldn’t you say?”

“Molly was just a stupid b-”

“It would be wise for you to shut up now” Sherlock interrupted “You see, Tom, if there is something I do not stand for, It is domestic abuse or other forms of physical mistreatment towards those smaller than your own size.” Sherlock got up and put the heel of his shoe right atop of Tom’s bruised hand. “If you ever again get the, I must say, extremely idiotic idea to lay a hand on Molly Hooper, please remember this visit of mine, and choose otherwise.”

Tom groaned in pain as Sherlock added pressure onto the hand.

“Actually, allow me to make that decision for you.” Sherlock said, as he lifted his foot up and brought the heel down hard on Tom’s hand, shattering at least three finger bones and two bones connecting the wrist and knuckles. Tom screamed, though not very loud.

“Have I made myself clear?” Sherlock asked. The only response he got was a painful cough through clenched teeth. After that, Sherlock turned around and showed himself out. On the front steps, he phoned Lestrade, saying that there had been a burglary at Molly’s flat, and that Tom had gotten himself quite injured in the process.

When George arrived at the scene, Sherlock told him that Molly had ran to his flat in the panic, that she was soaked wet in rain and just as beaten up as Tom was, which lestrade found odd.

“The odd thing was, inspector, that Miss Hooper had multiple pairs of parallel cuts across her cheek, and I couldn’t quite place with what object she had been attacked.”

“All right, Sherlock, We’ll look into it.”

Completely ignoring with what George had said, Sherlock responded “Have you noticed the ring Tom wears, has 2 stones in it?  An intricate design, even if I do say so myself.”

Lestrade was silent for a second. “Yes it is, now that you say so.”

Sherlock smiled at Lestrade briefly before turning around on his way home. “Goodnight inspector!”

***

As she stepped through the door, the storm behind him had calmed to a continuous gentle drizzle, tapping softly on the windows as he heard the warm crackling of the fire in his flat upstairs.

Mrs. Hudson told him John had gotten home while he was out; he had checked on molly’s injuries and was now out to get her some painkillers. He wanted to say that that had hardly had been necessary, for he had a plenitude of painkilling narcotics upstairs. Nevertheless, he decided against it.

In his living room, Molly was sitting on a pillow in front of the fire, with a blanket wrapped around her and her second cup of tea in her hands. She was facing the fire, staring blankly into it. She turned her head when she heard him come in.

“Sherlock hi, I noticed you had gone, um, out.” She looked down.

He took of his wet coat and put it on the coat hanger. “Yes I did, I paid a short visit to Tom. Though the weirdest thing happened, I got there, and he had been beaten up by a burglar.”

Molly looked up, surprised, shocked perhaps. “He was? What happened?” Sherlock walked towards her, and sat down next to her in front of the fire.

“Possible broken nose, broken hand and multiple injured vital organs. He’ll be fine though, don’t worry. However, there is one thing has got me thinking.”

“And what’s that?”

“The hand that was broken had already been injured before. He had hit someone today, multiple times, and hard.” He paused a second before he continued. “But you were the only one that had been with him all day long.”

Molly snivelled a bit, though Sherlock didn’t see any tears. Sherlock saw she realised why he had gone out, and she only said a three small words in response.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

He pulled her close to his chest

“No need.” He said. “He’s never getting near you again.” Then he leaned his cheek on her head and rocked her lightly.

“You’re safe now, Molly Hooper, you’re safe.”

***

[giroshane]

Hard Mode Questions: Rosario

So me and my dnd friends decided to do all these questions to help develop our player characters! I of course did my one and only Genderfluid Druid, my boi, my Rosario. (note: pronouns swap every question bc. you know. genderfluid). 

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Rosario doesn’t have any siblings. The only aunt who is remotely close in age, is about 7 or 8 years older than him. He’s met Tía Yolanda a few times, but she has trouble interacting with children (she’s autistic) and her quiet nature didn’t mesh well with his rambunctious tendencies. He hasn’t seen her in years now (he debated visiting her while he was in the Capital, where she was studying, but...well...then the Calamity happened. He doesn’t know if she OR Tío Emilio, also in the Capital, are even alive. He tries not to think about it--or about how he should have asked at Cranleigh...but the fear of the worst was too strong). However, were they to reunite I think they’d actually be closer. He’s grown a bit in terms of maturity and sensitivity. I can totally see them infodumping to each other all the time (once he becomes accustomed to her passion for...taxidermy).

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like? Rosario doesn’t have a mother! NEXT. Dad #1 is Si. And Rosario absolutely admires and respects him. And Si of course unconditionally loves his child. He always knows how to make Rosario laugh (puns…). The biggest contention between them is that both have a pretty nasty stubborn streak which can make them butt heads, especially since Si is the more authoritative parent. And sometimes Rosario will put her father on a pedestal, as a result of Si’s status as The Most Famous Bounty Hunter in the Desert. Even now, that pedestal contributes to Rosario’s own self-loathing and shame over her believed “inadequacies”, especially without Si around to break down the pedestal.

What is was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Dad #2 is Odell. Rosario also loves and respects him, but it is of course in a different way. Odell is the more doting of the two parents, but sometimes this translates to smothering. Nonetheless, he has Rosario’s best interests heart and always puts his child’s safety before anything else. Odell always knows how to soothe Rosario when he’s upset, and Rosario has many fond memories of Odell singing to him to help him fall asleep whenever he had a bad nightmare.

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know? Yes. It was a devastating blow to Rosario’s self-confidence and self-esteem, and shattered her belief in her own abilities; as well as being, in general, traumatizing. And absolutely no one knows.

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets? Some kind of seed probably. It’s variable, they could be anything from flower seeds to vegetable seeds to a handful of beans. Sometimes Rosario will just roll them around in his hand if he’s bored; a few times he’s had seeds actually sprout in his pants. Usually a bit of spending gold, for little things, probably a stitch marker or two, and some hair ties.

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams? In the nicest dreams, Rosario is in a forest. That’s the most common theme, but she could be doing any number of things, or any number of things could be happening. Rosario always has her full hearing. Her favorite dreams, though, are always in the desert. The sun beating down on her back, and she’s often chasing some kind of shy desert animal. She’s free.

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares? Violence, in the worst ones. Usually some kind of violence that Rosario can’t escape, no matter how hard he tries. It can vary in method, but it’s almost always head trauma. The kind that leaves him spinning, disoriented, with no control and no hope. The worst is when it’s a mace, he can see it so clearly that it haunts him even when he wakes up. And it’s always in the same place in Cartowitt. There’s also a nightmare that’s more of a memory, and it’s not necessarily a nightmare, but Rosario always classifies it as one. He’s standing in the burnt wreckage of his home out in the desert. The sun is high, there is no wind. Everything is calm, though some remains of the house are still smouldering. Rosario used to panic, but he’s had this dream so often now that he simply sits and...not really meditates, but is quiet. When he was about 12 or so his papa made some kind of error covering his tracks after some kind of bounty; a gang of orcs looking for revenge followed him home. The protection spells surrounding the property gave them enough time to gather most sentimental items, food, water, etc. and hide in the bunker, built and magically reinforced under the home for this express purpose. They hid in terrified silence for hours as the orcs raided and ransacked the home--and, when they (thankfully) couldn’t find their intended victims, set it on fire. Since there was no way to contact help, Rosario and his parents spent a better part of a week in the bunker while the fire raged. Everyone emerged unscathed, but it was a defining moment for Rosario: it was the moment he fully realized the dangers of the desert, and the danger his papa faced day in and day out. It was also the first and only time he ever saw his parents honest to god fight (in the aftermath of this event). In the dream, this is the moment where the fire finally died down enough that the metal hatch to the bunker was cool enough to touch, and the family could safely emerge. Rosario can never bring himself to turn back and watch his fathers come out of the bunker. Actually, now that I think about it, fire is also a common theme. Everything he cares about going up in flames. Sometimes himself. Lately there’s some kind of blaring noise that goes along with the raging fire before he wakes up in a cold sweat, with an ache in his neck and chest. I wonder now if choosing the spell Flame Blade was the best idea.

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target? Not a gun, but Si trained Rosario to use the hand-crossbows he uses in an emergency. Unfortunately Rosario did not inherit her papa’s knack for sharpshooting, so she has no particular draw to it. Her first targets were little balls of dried clay set up on rocks. It took a while for Si to convince her that shooting a cactus wouldn’t actually kill the cactus.

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up? Arguably it’s lower than what it was. Si often brought in enough money for them to be considered lower middle class, I suppose? Rosario was never hungry but sometimes there were dry periods where he couldn’t always get the clothes or toys (or eventually plants) he might have wanted. Now he could be considered homeless (though he really isn’t, if he reached out to his parents), or at least poor. He has trouble holding onto what little money he does have--he has been getting better at that though now that he’s a part of this ragtag group with an actual mission that requires necessities (like armor)--mostly because he’s learned how to be self-sufficient in the wilds. Can’t afford food? He saw a wild patch of onions in a clearing on his way into town. Can’t afford a bed? He has a couple blankets and he knows how to essentially make a nest/hammock in the branches of a tree. He doesn’t see himself as one, but I imagine the rest of civilized society would see him as a total bum.

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? As promiscuous as Rosario tends to be, she actually prefers more clothing! Something she’s kind of had ingrained in her since leaving the desert is the notion that she’s...well, weird. Even for a tiefling. The red skin, ram horns, the snake-scale patches on her skin, the tail, the clawed feet (and displaced toes), the glowing eyes, the sharp teeth, they all make her distinctly Other. As such she’s actually fairly self-conscious--she doesn’t even trust when other people flirt with her--she has to be the initiator or she thinks it’s a trick or joke. All this boils down to the fact that she’s far more comfortable with more clothing than less, lol. A way to hide the more undesirable parts of herself (scales, tail, etc.)

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been? [REDACTED].

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been? In the morning, as a child, he would wake up, and lie in bed, and feel so calm that he’d almost fall back asleep. He’d listen to the birds in the nests he built outside his window, and in the otherwise quiet he’d always say he’d be listening to his plants grow.

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way? I suppose it depends on the carnage. But in general? Not at all. She’s very used to pricking herself on thorns or getting bitten or scratched by cranky animals. She’s of course very concerned if others are bleeding, but by this point she’s a good judge of when a wound is actually serious or not.

Does your character remember names or faces easier? Neither, to be honest. But if it comes down to it Rosario is better at faces. He’s better with visuals than words.

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

Not really. To her, the best things in life are free. Or, are usually free. Money has become important in the more recent weeks, causing her to try and obtain more, but she’s never been obsessed with it at all.

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success? Oh happiness all the way. Rosario has always believed that you can have happiness without success. After all, happiness can come from the little things: the breeze in your hair, watching a hummingbird flit from flower to flower, nurturing a plant and helping it grow. Rosario doesn’t consider himself very successful at anything at all, and yet he finds happiness every day.

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child? I honestly don’t think she had one. Like, she had some toy dolls and the like that she would use when playing but she wasn’t particularly attached to them (considering one time she ripped off the head of one of them and attached a flower in its place, thus creating the plant monster-anti-hero Flower Face). However, she Did have a blanket that Tía Carmen knitted for her when she was born that she was ridiculously attached to. She was so upset when she wore it down to tatters that Tía Carmen decided to teach her to knit so she could make her own blankets. She rarely has enough yarn nowadays, but she loves making anything she can--knitting is soothing and helps calm her down, especially if she’s feeling too hyperactive or bored.

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Ambition, if only because it’s something he...lacks. Even though he has long-term life goals in mind…he has trouble actually focusing on them, especially right now.

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before? Gender dysphoria and general poor self-esteem. Rosario doesn’t see herself as someone anyone wants to hang around with for too long. The rest of the party she just views as a fluke, and they grate against each other enough--getting agitated with Wilhelm and Memor, Fox pushing her into a panic attack (even if it was an accident), Sky’s general...apathy, weirding out Elaris by infodumping on him (and then the recent incident with the alcohol), her habit of complaining that she knows is annoying and sometimes makes her hypocritical--that she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop and them to leave her. This notion has destroyed any relationships before they even have the chance to start: Rosario doesn’t let anything go past a one night stand with a stranger. She never believes they want anything more than that and the idea of someone knowing her body intimately and continuing to know her intimately (or at all) after the fact is terrifying to her. She’s too scared to put that kind of trust in somebody right now.

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism? Rosario doesn’t compare himself to others simply because he already knows the truth (or thinks he does): that he just...doesn’t compare at all. His flaws stand out so starkly to him that he can’t see his own strengths, just the strengths of others, so he doesn’t bother trying to measure up because he believes he can’t. Might as well just be his weird, shitty self because they’ll abandon him eventually.

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others? If there is no one clear to blame, Rosario will always blame herself. She blames herself for [REDACTED]; she blames herself for the criticisms she draws from her companions (even if it’s something she can’t control, like her appearance); she blames herself when spells or attacks fail; she blames herself for not reaching out to her parents (which...is her fault but is also the result of trauma); hell, she blames herself for not saving Kyle the Train Wizard. Despite him being a bad guy, he had a change of heart and she had the opportunity to try and save him, and she didn’t take it, and even if he sacrificed himself for them she still blames herself. To be fair, she also takes the blame for things that are legitimately her fault (standing directly in front of the Doom Train, for instance), but she also tends to blame herself for things she has/had no control over.

What does your character like in other people? Kindness, first and foremost. Not just to him, but to other people, and to nature. I would also say confidence is a biggie, since he has so much trouble with it. He admires it in other people. He honestly admires people who have a grasp of what they’re doing in their lives--people who are more stable than he is.

What does your character dislike in other people? I know this is a bit obvious, but cruelty, plain and simple. Especially if it’s without cause--which is why Rosario tends to protest if the rest of the party are killing someone who doesn’t really need to die. She has seen and been at the hands of cruelty, and personally she still can’t believe someone could just...Be Like That. It horrifies her, more than anything else, the darkest things a person is capable of.

How quick is your character to trust someone else? Fairly easy, in certain regards. There has to be a degree of trust when you’re sleeping with someone, right? He tends to trust easy at face value, though that can change depending on the situation. However, in regards to trusting someone else with his secrets, his fears, himself? It takes a good long while, and a healthy amount of respect (which is why Hemlock got a sizable confession from him in Portsmouth; if it had been someone else with him he would have clammed up completely, even while visibly breaking down). Elaris is only just beginning to chip at the surface. I should say this, just because Rosario doesn’t trust deeply very easily, he is incredibly loyal to those he’s felt earned it (i.e. the rest of the party and Hemlock).

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? Rosario can be a bit oblivious sometimes, so usually it takes a while for her to suspect someone (I’m fairly certain she was the last person in the group to realize the old lady they rescued was, in fact, The Clove; she didn’t suspect the alchemist in Hadad of ripping her off until after the fact). With people she’s close to, this does change--she actually comes to suspect them quite easier. Usually because she’s holding them to higher standards now that she knows them--but it’s also an internal suspicion. Usually unfounded, but Rosario tends to note the little grievances other party members have of her. She very easily suspects her friends of wanting her gone.

How does your character behave around children? Rosario loves kids! You know how people will shun punks but kids love the brightly colored mohawks and spiked jackets and shit? It’s the same thing with Rosario and his horns and tail! He’ll play keep away with his tail with them, or he’ll let them touch his horns. He doesn’t mind being a bit of a jungle-gym haha. He’ll lay down his life for a child (and...he kind of has hasn’t he? Back in Wolfwater and all). He may pretend that he doesn’t care for them or that he likes animals better (and...he still kind of does, just a little) but it’s very easy for a kid to melt his heart. Children are his secret weakness, honestly. If a kid runs up to him and asks him for money, he’ll give it; or if they ask for a playmate, or for help, for almost anything, Rosario is...weak lol.

How does your character normally deal with confrontation? He would usually prefer the most peaceful option--but he has fairly strong convictions, and a stubborn streak a mile wide. He is more likely to get defensive than he is to play mediator or peacemaker. It also depends on the context of the confrontation; Rosario will Avoid certain confrontations as if his life depends on it. But again, he’s more likely to get defensive than actually run.

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Rosario tries to save it for last resort--if everything could be resolved diplomatically Rosario would be a much happier tiefling. However, if you press all her buttons just right she will let loose on you; she was not afraid to get in the Diamond’s face back in Hadad, infuriated that the Diamond didn’t even seem to acknowledge her and her friends as people.

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true? For a long while Rosario wanted to become a dancer; he voraciously picked up on any kind of dancing he could get people to teach him--even belly-dancing over his teen years! At the time, he viewed his passion for greenery and gardening and animal care as just a hobby. He was even hoping to go to the same bard school Tía Selena went to, since she’s the best dancer he knew. But that all changed after a rare visit from Tío Hector when Rosario was about 14. Rosario actually really only met him on this one occasion, since Hector’s such a drifter that it’s incredibly hard to pin him down. Hector specializes in street magic, busking in different places with impressive tricks to earn money. When visiting he used this kind of magic to make flowers bloom in Rosario’s hair, or make them appear and disappear and all sorts of tricks. Rosario was absolutely mesmerized. From that visit onward he vowed he’d learn any magic he could get his grubby hands on. This eventually evolved into wanting to become a Druid as he learned about them in particular. So, technically no--but Rosario still loves dancing! He’s just had a switcheroo--dancing is now just a hobby, and his passion for nature is now at the forefront.

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting? Very similar to 23, she finds cruelty absolutely abhorrent, in whatever form it takes--animal abuse, people abuse (slavery, beating, etc.), hell, even what is arguably plant abuse (deforestation). It’s disgusting to her that people cannot respect and love this world and its inhabitants.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable. He’s back in the desert, not far from his home. A cluster of cacti and underbrush surround him. He’s knitting--it’s been a long day of, well, whatever--and he wants to unwind. A couple of baby snakes are nestled in his lap, their mother close by sunbathing with a few more babies. One baby is curled around his horn. He’ll be able to watch the sunset from here.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable. In a situation where she has no control over anything whatsoever. She can’t escape, she can’t fight. Someone or something’s bearing down on her. She can’t win.

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve? Rosario can get defensive, but more often than not he’s self-deprecating. If someone criticizes him he’s more likely to acknowledge it and own it. “Oh, they’re criticizing my abilities. That’s fair, I’m terrible.” Ever since [REDACTED] he doesn’t believe that he’ll ever improve--not really, no matter how hard he tries. Nor does he believe that he’ll ever recover from that trauma--a part of him doesn’t think he deserves to.

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method? She’ll try different things. Back in the Desert, getting stuck on one possible solution could mean life or death. You have to be willing to try new methods or think outside the box in order to survive. One time while camping she got caught in a sandstorm. She managed to take shelter behind some boulders but in the powerful winds her tent got blown away. When trying to make a new tent out of blankets didn’t pan out, she decided to go the way of the sidewinder rattlesnake (fittingly enough, her father’s namesake), and burrow herself into the sand to keep cool and take shelter from the blistering sun. While she did get sand everywhere, she didn’t die of heatstroke, so there’s that.

How does your character behave around people they like? Caring and helpful! He wants the people he likes to be okay, plain and simple. Now if it’s like as in like like (lol) he’s a mess. He’s still caring and helpful, but he also tends to be far too praising and is far more likely to stumble over his words.

How does your character behave around people they dislike? He’s more scathing in his words; his sarcasm is brutal and biting. He doesn’t respect them and he’ll make that abundantly clear. He’s not one to hide his true feelings.

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status? Her honor, or what little she has of it. She doesn’t give a fuck about status. She doesn’t really care about honor either--except when it comes to her family. She believes herself a disgrace to her family name, but god forbid anyone insult her family. She will defend their honor to the grave.

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat? He’s a stubborn ram. He’ll try removing the problem/threat until he knows for a fact he can’t (and even then, he may keep going. He still hasn’t learned…). Especially if someone else’s life is at risk. He’ll remove that problem/threat if it kills him, if it means protecting someone else.

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)? Many, many times. Rosario has a deep respect for nature, but she also loves interacting with it. It’s become a bit of a Steve Irwin situation: if an animal bites her, she knows that it’s likely her fault because she got in its face. She did get upset the first time an animal bit her--a bird pecked her fingers, thinking she had food; but not because of the pain, but because then Plata tried to crush the bird. Plata is Si’s horse. She’s very fast and notoriously touchy. Si didn’t stop getting kicked for years after he got her. There was a big fear that she’d hurt Rosario, to the extent that Si learned Speak With Animals solely to explain to her the situation and very clearly state that if she harmed a hair on his child’s head he would see to it personally that she got sent to the glue factory (or…the Dungeons and Dragons equivalent). He didn’t need to worry though. Plata became as protective over Rosario as a guard dog. She protected her as if Rosario was her foal. Rosario is the only person in the world Plata has not tried to kick (she has nibbled her though, when she gets exasperated or irritated).

How does your character treat people in service jobs? Rosario is very respectful and polite! He understands they are just trying to make a living, which is usually why he won’t rob them or even try to haggle. However, that changes if (and only if) they’re mean to him out of turn.

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first? Rosario isn’t sure if she deserves to be alive, so. She absolutely believes she must earn what she wants, in whatever way that means, be it education, money, good deeds, etc. She’s a staunch believer in karma--if you do good things, good things should come back to you.

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them? I wouldn’t say necessarily a parental figure, but when Rosario finally joined a Druid commune to get proper basic training, the chief of the commune, Sybil, looked out for him. She gave him space when he needed it and never pried into his past (during a time where even asking about his ear made him shut down and panic). She also kept him focused and encouraged him in his pursuits. I would say that he was actually doing fairly well (mentally/emotionally) under her tutelage until she sent him out into the world. He did well for a while…then relapsed.

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them? Rosario counts all plants under her care as dependents. In a way they’re little pieces of encouragement: I can keep these little guys alive, that means I’m good for one thing, at least. Also when she was younger there was a den of snakes near her home; she took care of the mother to the point that the mother trusted her around her babies just fine. Rosario always made sure Hera (what she named the mother snake) and all her children were protected and fed.

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? Rosario can say “I love you” very easily without meaning it--it often slips out in “the heat of the moment”s and such. He’s also used to saying it platonically/familially, so hearing him say it is a common occurrence among friends and family. Romantically is a whole other ball game however. It’ll take a lot of effort to earn that one. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? Hopefully a painless, endless nothingness. Just...ceasing to exist. Void. It sounds nice, honestly, not scary. The process of dying, however, terrifies her.

[myofficialventblog]

She keeps talking about separating our things and what would happen if we broke up. It gets brought up a lot now and each time it makes me more and more insecure. She won't even reassure me afterwards or give me a "yes or no." And I haven't felt connected to her since that day in the camper, and honestly it just really feels like she doesn't want to be. She'll get/make me food and she got me these really beautiful postcards for our anniversary, but outside of anything physical or material it feels like she doesn't want to make the effort. She's not emotionally available (even though she says she wants to talk) and I feel so exhausted. I'm the only one who takes care of our relationship on an emotional level and I'm getting so tired.

I just want to feel like my partner cares about how I feel. And she doesn't even pay attention. I've gone in and out of so many depressive episodes around her and the only times she's realized is when I'm too sad to do anything for her. I cut myself a bit over a month ago and she saw me completely naked and didn't even notice. They were still red and even though they were scratches they were still bleeding. She never knows when to quit and will continue on after you tell her to stop because she finds it amusing. Then she'll make fun of you for getting overwhelmed and crying and only apologize bc you refuse to rub her back. And if you hold an emotion for more than two seconds she gets mad and tells you you're oversensitive and ruining everything.

I love her so much but it really just feels like she's only with me out of comfort and not knowing anything else (I mean she even told me that, so I guess I'm just stupid). Sometimes I joke to myself and say she's only here for the wifi lol. I just know she wants to leave but she doesn't know how to do it yet. She's too scared to bc she knows that I won't be holding myself for her anymore like I did my freshman year.

God and that's a whole other thing. I wasn't even enough for her then when we were barely two years in. She constantly wanted to open up the relationship and the couple times we did she always ended it after she got what she wanted. I was always there as her safety net for her to come back to, the only stable part of her life bc I'll do anything and I'd take anything. Thinking back that's probably why I've never felt secure in this relationship. I've always felt like her backup plan and never a priority to her. I'm always fucking there for her no matter what she does and she knows it and that's the only reason she keeps me around. That's all I ever am to anyone.

She can't even say anything nice to me anymore. Back then she would at least tell me I'm nice and smart and funny and even an "I love you" every now and then, but now it's just constant insults under the guise of jokes. And honestly? Sometimes the jokes are funny! I don't hate that kind of humor bc I kind of like it to, but it's just fucking constant now and she never says anything nice to even it out with unless I fucking pull teeth so it's constantly eating at me and making me wonder more and more if she even likes me or if it's just the attention I give her that no one else does. I'm just a fill in for a caretaker and nothing else, giving her what she wanted from her parents but can't get. I've known this for so long and it nearly kills me every day. It's all I can think about at night when I'm scratching her ass.

And everyone calls me a fucking drama queen since I was a kid and that I need to tone it down but honestly??? I don't even think that's the real me! It's just some persona I made up when I was 6 in order to get attention from the people around me and keep that attention so they don't leave me. I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm just an amalgamation of every persona I've created for the people around me so that they like me and at this point I'm too afraid to look for my real self. I'm too busy with my full time job of making sure that my mom doesn't kill herself, my gf gets through the day, and that everyone else is happy.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone would even care if I die. And usually my brain tells me "of course they would but it wouldn't be because of you, it would only be because they miss what you do for them."