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#''guess ill just try to convince myself he's annoying or something and hope it goes away''
aroaceleovaldez · 1 year
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the “canon” fatal flaw that bugs me the most is that Nico’s is allegedly supposed to be “holding grudges” but LITERALLY EVERYTHING HE DOES SAYS OTHERWISE
the only instances we get of Nico even remotely doing anything with a “grudge” is him spontaneously, randomly, on rare occasion referencing being grumpy at something - THAT HE IS ENTIRELY VALID TO BE UPSET AT - and then does nothing with that. other than maybe continue to be vaguely grumpy about it and then drop it. In fact, Nico is consistently EXTREMELY forgiving to people despite him having perfectly valid reasons to not forgive them. Percy literally choked Nico and ditched him in the Underworld and Nico STILL brought Percy to the River Styx and faced off against Hades to bring THREE gods and an army of the undead to Percy’s aid, despite Hades actively suggesting alternatives to Nico and encouraging Nico to not do that.
Nico’s fatal flaw is so clearly either that he does not let go of things (not the same as holding grudges) OR that he’s far too willing to put others before himself, often directly putting himself at risk instead. He’s too self-sacrificial. He was explicitly willing to trade HIMSELF for Bianca and extremely resistant to letting go of her. He put himself on the line facing against Hades to help Percy MULTIPLE TIMES. He risked getting in trouble with the Underworld to bring back Hazel. He WILLING WENT INTO TARTARUS to try to close the Doors of Death himself. He offered to shadow-travel the Athena Parthenos for Reyna despite knowing it would most likely kill him. Etc. etc. The closest Nico has ever gotten to “holding a grudge” was being mad at Leo for faking his own death, and even then he was only Mildly Annoyed and got over it pretty quickly after Leo returned.
Nico “holding grudges” is a load of bull. Percy’s loyalty? Annabeth’s hubris? Absolutely true. Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth and Annabeth’s hubris are what got them pulled into Tartarus (also, interestingly - Percy’s hubris in TLO and Annabeth’s loyalty taking a knife for him is what nearly got them killed then). Nico, though? Nico’s willingness to put himself on the line for the sake of others is what nearly got him killed in BoTL and TLO and HoO and brought him to Tartarus multiple times, now! “Holding grudges,” yeah, right.
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ablognoonewillsee · 1 year
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This blog is basically like a diary I guess and helps me process things a little better. And i’m really glad no one follows it because i don’t want to be perceived.
Anyway, this is something I actually will talk about to the person involved because it’s about my relationship. Or past relationships? Mostly my own anxiety and fear. I’ve been dating my boyfriend for almost six months now. And he’s really good to me and I think he’s good for me. I love him very very much. And I know that he loves me. We’re long distance, but I’m okay with that, because eventually it won’t be an LDR.
Except of course for my crippling anxiety and Ghosts of Relationships Past. I’ve never had a relationship last more than a few months. The longest being 11 months exactly and being dumped on the anniversary. Most recent was 3 months. Dumped over text when they lived in the same city as me. I’ve been really happy with my current boyfriend. But tonight the mental illness struck. I started thinking about if he finds me annoying or too clingy or too emotional. Or what if he gets bored with me? I am so in love with this man. He makes me laugh and I feel so special when I’m with him. But part of my brain whispers and says what if it’s all fake? What if he doesn’t feel this way and he’s just saying he loves me because he just pities me? I know I can be over dramatic and extremely emotional. I cry over the littlest and stupidest things. So my stupid anxiety brain is just replaying the scenario in my head that never happened of my boyfriend telling me…all that. The same things I’ve been told before. “I just don’t love you the way you love me.” or “It’s too much” or any variety of things that can and will break my heart.
I’ve always been obsessed with the idea of True Love and Happily Ever Afters. I want that Happily Ever After, but I’m not so foolish into thinking it’ll just happen. An HEA is something you work for. And I think I am. So why does my mental illness have to fuck things up and make me cry myself to sleep over shit that hasn’t happened? It’s not fair! Why can’t I just be Neurotypical and not have Anxiety and Depression and who knows what else? Why can’t my brain let me be happy in this perfectly good relationship I have? I’m going to ask for reassurance from him in the morning. But if I do, is that annoying? I mean it’s not that he doesn’t tell me he loves me because he does. Maybe it’s just my own insecurities resurfacing. Thinking I’m not good enough to be loved. Which is silly of course because everyone deserves love and kindness.
I had him here for a whole week. But it felt so short. And I miss sleeping next to him. I miss his kisses and seeing his smile in person, not just in photos. I miss holding his hand. I didn’t ever think I’d actually be dating him. I never planned on telling him how i felt until certain events happened one weekend and then I couldn’t keep my feelings in. And now I have him. And every time i get a notification on my phone i hope it’s him. And when it is him I smile. My ex-coworkers used to tease me about how much I blushed when talking about him or thinking about him. And I love him. This I know for certain. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be having this awful anxiety of him not loving me. So here I am. Crying myself to sleep over the man I love with a made up scenario I never want to think about. Hugging the little plushie he made me for Christmas. Trying to convince myself to stop thinking bad things.
I just hope everything goes well when I talk to him about all this.
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yoonpobs · 3 years
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alone | pjm
pairing: park jimin x oc
genre: angst, hurt no comfort, unrequited love?
warnings: hints of mental illnesses
words: 1, 141
summary: you'll never be ready
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"Why do you keep running?"
Jimin hasn't seen you in months except for the occasional phone call. He alluded it to school being extra demanding, or that you were just caught up in the throes of life.
But Jimin always wanted to help, to be there. It's just that you've never let him.
"What else can I do but run? Pretend that my life isn't falling to pieces? That every person I know ends up hurt or hurting someone? I'm collateral and I'm sorry if I don't solve my problems healthily like you do, Jimin." You snap.
Jimin's eyes soften, attempting to reach out to you but you're pulling away like you always have.
"I just want to be here for you ..." Jimin whispers.
You purse your lip to give him a glare so vehement that Jimin almost doesn't recognise you.
"You just want to feel like a hero picking up a lost cause like me. I don't need your help so stop looking at me like I'm some abandoned cat that needs a home!" You shove your fingers into his chest.
Jimin's eyes widen but he grasps your wrist, looking at you with a desperate expression on his face.
You're breathing heavily and you hate that Jimin looks so put-together. A clean cardigan with expensive jeans and hair styled perfectly because Jimin was annoying, pretentious and always-in-your-business but never unprepared.
It's a stark difference to the fact that you've lost the energy to care about anything. You want to care about yourself and to a certain extent, you do. You know you couldn't be the saviour of your family when your parents argued about money. And you couldn't be your brother's therapist to deal with his anger issues—but you couldn't be anyone for yourself if you've lost all hope.
"Can you please calm down for a second and listen to me?" Jimin exasperates.
Your eyes narrow at him and you feel tired already. You haven't slept and you didn't expect Jimin to turn up at your dingy apartment to see if you were alive or not.
"So you can tell me how I'm throwing my life away or making problems out of nothing? I don't need your blind optimism and I sure as hell don't need you acting like my fucking guardian."
Jimin still has a grip on your wrist that shows his stubbornness as he levels his eyes to your own, seeing the sullen depths of your irises that could only make him feel guiltier for nor being there for you.
"You can think of my presence as anything as you wish but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be here, ______. I've always been here and I've never once judged you for anything because that isn't my place to do so. All I want is to be in your life and all you're doing is pushing me away—"
"Why don't you think long and hard as to why I'm doing that, Jimin. It's because I know people like you—the perfect, has your shit together and goes for weekly therapy sessions because you've got the cash to spare and the time to go. You don't get to be here for me and berate me with your coping mechanisms when I've finally found peace in mine!" You yell at him, eyes drooping shut because you're so exhausted.
You're exhausted about worrying. You're exhausted about arguing with every person that you've spoken to. You're exhausted about waking up to be welcomed with a new bundle of problems that you have no idea how to go about.
You're exhausted because Jimin keeps trying to fix your problems for you.
"I'm not asking you to go to therapy or buy yourself an expensive meal to feel better!" He throws his hands into the air, "I'm asking you to let me be there for you."
You roll your eyes.
"Oh spare me your altruism, Jimin. Go save someone closer to your level." You hiss.
Jimin grits his teeth before caging you against the wall so you don't have anywhere to run. He knew you and knew the look on your face when you were about to flee the scene so he wouldn't be able to get another word in.
"If you keep waiting to be ready to deal with the world then I've got some bad news for you, kid. You'll never be," He whispers and you bite your lip to hold the tears in. You don't want to cry in front of Jimin because his presence is already making you feel so small, so worthless in comparison to the life he's built for himself.
"I just want to support you. If that means being the person you cry on, or just the person who's there—I want to be there but you're being stubborn and avoiding every form of confrontation I try to offer you when I try to talk about my—"
"And you think that'll change my mind, Jimin?" You say softly, energy drained, "You think telling me you love me will make me realise how much I need you in my life?"
The anger returns and it's tenfold. It's because Jimin thinks that he loves you—that he loves you enough to help you or deal with your hourly mental breakdowns or erratic behaviour. He thinks he loves you but he doesn't know a single damn thing about you.
"No _____ it's because I love you that I want to be in your life." He says.
"Then let me tell you something, Jimin," You shove him away from you, "You're right. I'll never be ready. But at least I'm aware. You think you're ready to be with me because you've convinced yourself that this is just a phase, right? I just need companionship and suddenly all my problems don't exist? Well, guess what? My problems existed before you came into my life and they're still very much here when I met you."
Jimin's face falls because you've turned your body against him and the only thing he sees is the hunch of your back.
"Why won't you let me in?" He whispers.
"I wasn't able to protect myself from life so I'm protecting you from me," You say simply.
"______—" He sighs, another hand reaching out.
The glimmer of his rings just reminds you of how different the two of you were. That he was always safe despite any falls. That the world favoured the rich and the capitalistic structure was in the same hand that tried to reach out of you.
"Get out, Jimin. I don't want to see you ever again."
His eyes widen, but you don't turn around to look at him when you hear him splutter for a response.
You retreat to your room and don't even bother to shut the door.
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newhologram · 3 years
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I've been doing some thinking and realizing just how far back this all goes. Those of you who know me and my family IRL may have a hard time believing the emotional abuse and gaslighting because whenever you've met them, they seemed fine. They may have even bragged about me to you which made you think that they thought very highly of me. They also may have neglected to inform you that I have been disabled by chronic illness the past 10 years (many of my other family members had no idea until they spoke to me personally. It's... really fucking weird? To just not tell anyone that your offspring is in bed all day in horrible pain and constantly at the doctor/ER?). Unfortunately this is also part of the gaslighting, putting on a persona of parental perfection so that no one believes me when I try to talk about it. Instead people, even within my family, make excuses for the abuse and say that I should just be grateful. Behind closed doors it's always been very different. In the event that me processing this in private spaces gets out to them (which WILL endanger me): This isn't about *~exposing~* or *~revenge~* or *~punishment~*, it's about putting the pieces together and saying, yeah, I'm right to finally put my foot down about the way I have been treated. This is my experience. This is my trauma. I'm finally claiming that after a lifetime of being told that these experiences and my pain around them are apparently "not real" (gaslighting). By talking about this, I am not victimizing myself, but empowering myself. Because none of this treatment was ever my fault. None of it was ever deserved. And none of this is to be blamed on my "response" to abuse. I hope that by talking about this I can paint a picture of the dynamic and inspire investigation into the health of your own family dynamics too. "But they're family" is literally what enables this kind of abuse to continue. And I'm done. My health and survival is more important than upholding a toxic family system. They're learning that the hard way, finally. I don't think my family members are bad people. I truly do love and care for them. They have some amazing qualities. They love animals and they've come a long way to now being LGBTQ+ allies even if they don't always use the right words. But they have a lot of flaws that most likely come from their own trauma... But these aren't just self-contained flaws. Because I am the one who will be undoing the damage for the rest of my life. I don't know if they will ever go to therapy themselves, but I certainly won't be waiting around for them to work on themselves if it means I'm going to continue to be mistreated and re-traumatized. - It's always been this way but things definitely got worse in my home when I became disabled (possibly bc it triggered insecurities in them?). Both parents ignored me to my face all my life. I'd say or ask something, and there'd be no response most of the time. If I said, "hey, I'm talking to you, that's rude" they would blow up at me about "WHAT. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY. I HAVE THINGS ON MY MIND OKAY I HAVE MY OWN LIFE". This happened even when I was a literal child. I grew up believing that nothing I had to say was worth hearing and that if they ignored me that it was because I was unimportant and annoying. But if I ignore them or take too long to respond because I'm thinking, they scold me me about being rude, that they are my parents and I need to respect them. My emotions and pain have been invalidated since I was a child too. I would get picked up from afterschool care, or my bully's house, and of course I'd be crying from enduring a day of bullying. I would say, "I didn't do anything to them, it's not fair." And my dad's response was always, "WELL GUESS WHAT LIFE'S NOT FAIR. WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE AN ADULT IN THE REAL WORLD." He has continued to say this to me on a regular basis whenever I am struggling, either with work, friends, relationships, a death, or my chronic illnesses. I wonder why he has never considered my world to be real? Why is my reality not real to him? What
makes that even more painful is that I was still sent day after day to the school where I was bullied, to afterschool care with my bullies, and to my bullies' homes. No matter how much I was always crying when they picked me up, they just kept sending me back. And then a few of my dad's girlfriend's had children who bullied me too. I literally could never escape it. If it wasn't that, his response to me crying about something would be, "YOU HAVE NOTHING TO CRY ABOUT. YOU'RE LIVING THE LIFE OF LUXURY HERE, YOU DON'T PAY RENT! JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE OUT THERE HAVING REAL PROBLEMS!" Again, he said this to me when I was a 24 year old who was suddenly in the span of a year so disabled that I could barely work. I was scared for my future, because I had taken the time to educate myself about my illnesses, and I knew that things were going to be hard for me. What I needed was support, not "tough love" and emotional invalidation. I was also scared of the situation I am in now. I was scared that I was going to be too sick to afford to move out and that by age 30 I would still be stuck at home with a parent who did not see my reality, my pain, as real. I am living that and it's not fun. Whenever I tried to talk to him about this invalidation, it just turned into a fight, because he refuses to admit the things that he said, and says things like "That's a You Problem" which he has said since I was a child in response to him hurting my feelings. I have always thought it was worth the effort to communicate to my loved ones this sort of issue, because that's what I was taught at school. If there's an issue, you talk about it. But my family doesn't believe that I guess. - When I first got sick, I was throwing up a lot. It had built up over several years since I was 19 but then after I was officially diagnosed with my Big 4 (colitis/fibro/ME/narcolepsy) I started having really dangerous vomiting attacks. The first attack I had lasted 6 days. I lost 12lbs. I overheard my dad complaining on the phone to a friend that I was keeping him up all night throwing up. I felt so bad for bothering him, I had learned to value his comfort over mine. But after the third day of nonstop vomiting, I told my dad I needed to go to the ER, that something was wrong. He sighed and rolled his eyes and said I didn't need to go. He was so annoyed with me for being sick. I was completely pale. I hadn't eaten anything. I could barely keep water down. I argued but he wouldn't listen. I went back to throwing up, at this point just dry-heaving. A while later I said, "I'm taking myself to the ER." I grabbed my car keys and my dad stopped me. He said, "That's ridiculous, you aren't driving yourself to the ER, I'll do it." But he still wouldn't take me for some reason. I don't know if he just didn't want to pay the copay or what. But I was literally trapped. I tried to fight it and said, "If you're going to take me, then take me. If not, let me take myself." I kept throwing up for three more days before he finally agreed to take me. The ER was packed so I ended up going to urgent care, where the nurse scolded me. She said I really should've gone to the ER after the third day of vomiting. She said that if I had gone a 7th day I could have collapsed. I didn't know how to tell her that I had tried. She asked where my family was and I said my dad had to go to work so he had just dropped me off. She had tears in her eyes and she held my hand. She said, "he should be here with you." THAT is how sick I was. That year, I went to the ER three more times. Each time I would be sobbing and ashamed of myself just for bothering my dad and for him having to pay the copay since I was too sick to earn the money myself. Again, that's how little I had learned to value myself and my health. By my birthday that year, I was suicidal from this shame. A few months later, in the new year, I started having vomiting attacks again. My dad stood over me while I was hunched over the toilet gagging and he said something I will never be able to forget, "You need to snap out of it
because I can't go through this again." He was the victim of my illness. He was the victim of my pain. This year was when my dad told me that he and his gf had been "talking" and that they had decided it was "time for me to be independent". He said they'd even help me find an apartment. I cried and said, "Dad, I'm sick. I've been so sick the past year. How am I supposed to afford even splitting rent with a roommate when I'm in bed in a neckbrace all day long?" and his response was, "But your dad needs his bachelor pad." I couldn't even identify what I was feeling. I was so shocked. Did he really think having the apartment to himself so he could have girls over was more important? But he was always telling me that I was the most important person in his life. I was so confused.
He gave me a time frame to move out and I was terrified. I thought my life was over. But most of all, I thought, "it's not fair to my dad that I'm sick." I thought so little of myself and my pain because that is what I learned as a kid. I blamed myself for not being "strong enough" to power through these debilitating illnesses. I blamed myself for my dad's money troubles. I literally could not live with myself knowing that my dad had to support me. I was so ashamed that I learned to vomit quietly so that he wouldn't notice. I was in a constant state of suicidality for several years after this. And it's no wonder, because year after year my dad has barged into my room to harass me about "it's time to be a Real Adult! It's time for you to Contribute to the household! You need to Make Money! I'm HEMORRHAGING money supporting you! I'm having to use my savings!" and because I was too sick to do this, I felt like a complete failure who did not deserve to live. I was self-harming constantly because I hated myself for "doing this" to my father. He had convinced me that I was the villain. I would start freaking out about money, forcing myself to work even if it meant vomiting literally on set (and almost being sent home bc of it, but I insisted I was fine to work). But I still couldn't make enough to afford my medical expenses. So I would shame-spiral and be suicidal again and then suddenly the story would change. My dad did a complete 180 and said, "Why are you even worried about money? We're doing fine. Even if I didn't have to support you, it wouldn't make that big of a difference in the money that I spend on this household. Don't worry about it." And then as soon as bills were due, he was back to telling me that I needed to make money. Back to saying we spent too much money on food despite me not eating that much. Back to refusing to try shopping somewhere cheaper when I suggested ways to save money. When I brought this up to my therapist back then, she said, "He's giving you mixed messages. Maybe you should bring this up to him so he realizes he's doing it." But when I did bring it up, of course my dad denied doing this and called me ungrateful even as I worked two jobs. When I eventually got a third job (fucking up my health more) to pay off my medical debt, my dad patted my back and told me how proud he was. When I told my therapist that he denied it, she suggested I bring him in so she could help us communicate. When I asked him to come with me to therapy, he got angry and said, "I am NOT going to therapy with you, that is ridiculous." But even with those 3 jobs it still wasn't enough and I was constantly being pulled between "YOU HAVE TO MAKE MONEY RIGHT NOW END OF THE WORLD" and "uhh why are you even worried about money, you need to work your mindset..." When bugged about money I would ask, "What else do you want me to do? I'm working 3 jobs. I'm not hiding money from you. I'm sending you everything that is leftover after I pay my own bills. I've even been buying a lot of my own food, I've been living off ramen and cans of ravioli." And he never had an answer except "just make more money." -- Now to the dynamic I'm currently living in. My dad moved his gf and her dog in without talking to me about it to see if it was going to impact my health. She was only supposed to stay here for maybe 4-5 days while she figured out a new home situation. But when I asked my dad about it in the days leading up to her arrival, suddenly the answer was "oh, she's staying indefinitely." I had no say in it. But we had a talk about what I needed to make this work. I said to my dad that the most important thing was that I have some scheduled quiet time. If I'm recording content or editing audio, I'm going to need quiet that morning so I can get my work done. If I'm resting, I need there to not be shouting or slamming doors happening in the house. He assured me that this was fine and that it'd all be easy for the three of us. The first weekend she was moved in, I let my dad know that I was editing audio that morning and needed
some quiet. He was cheerful and said, "No problem!" I thought wow, this is different. This is nice! This is going to be great for my productivity and health. As soon as I started editing, his gf was blasting music in the kitchen (right next to my room) and they were both laughing and talking loudly just a few steps away from my door. I thought, okay, we talked about this. But I'll just power through. When I was done, I went to my dad and said in a calm manner, "Hey, so this morning I let you know ahead of time that I was editing audio but there was still a ton of music and stuff in the kitchen, so it made it take a lot longer for me." His eyes immediately went dark. He put on an angry parent voice and said, "Okay, I am about to pop. I have enough going on without worrying about making too much noise for you." I said, calmly still, "We talked about this, though, and you assured me it wasn't a problem that I needed this quiet time for editing. So I'm not sure what to do. I'm just letting you know that there was still loud music right next to my room even though we had talked about it." He responded, "Then you need to be more specific because I don't know what you're doing in there." I corrected, "But I told you this morning that I was going to be editing audio and you said it was no problem to have some quiet in the kitchen while I did so." He got more aggressive, "No, you need to be more specific." Again, "I was specific. I told you the time frame that I was going to be editing audio in. You said you understood. I don't know what else to do to fix this other than by openly communicating to you about it." I started crying because--I mean, uhh?? This is gaslighting. I couldn't believe that mere hours after I had specifically told my dad that I was editing audio and that he had assured me it was no problem to have some quiet, that he was accusing me of not telling him what I needed, and that he had not agreed to it or something. Like wtf. He got nastier and blamed me for his stress. But me crying triggered his guilt so he tried to soothe himself by hugging me like he does and I pulled away. I tried to emphasize to him that I'm not just making content for fun. I'm literally trying to make money and contribute to the household like he has told me I need to do for the past 8 years. And when he disrupts my editing process, it just makes it take longer, and it makes it harder for me to earn extra money. His gf was also super rude to me when I tried to be friendly and have a conversation with her. I was telling her about how great it felt to have my sister initiate a conversation about my gender identity and she interrupted me (like she does constantly) to say, "YOU KNOW YOUR SISTER DOESN'T ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT, RIGHT?" (wtf...) After this, I didn't speak to them for three days. I was feeling the urge to self-harm that whole weekend and all I could do was stay in bed crying after that. I knew if I spoke to them I would just get triggered so I was protecting myself. My dad felt guilty and tried to talk to me in my room. I tried to explain how triggering this whole situation is for me and he said he would do anything to make it easier for me. I had told him what I needed but that he had gaslighted me about it. - This next and last part is going to illustrate the priorities in this household. A few years ago, I started having problems with hives. I spent almost a whole year having very painful breakouts all over my body. It kept me up all night and caused me so much discomfort during the day. I kept telling my dad about it (no response, or annoyed responses), I went to the doctor several times about it (useless ointments), and suffered month after month. I tried so many things, I thought maybe it was bugs, spiders, etc. My asthma was also acting up and I remembered that an ex-neighbor had been suspicious of mold because of their health issues getting better the second they moved out. They had told me back then that we should test for mold. I brought it up to my dad that I had been suffering from this for
long enough and that we should do something about it (mold also makes fibromyalgia and ME way worse). He angrily snapped, "What do you want me to do about it?" I suggested we ask the landlord to mold test the apartment. He refused bc he doesn't like to bother the landlord. I said that I would just order a mold kit myself and he said, "No, let me do it, I'll pick the right one." But he wouldn't even after I kept reminding him. Even after I sent him links to mold kits that we could order. After I got rid of my mattress, my hives got a lot better but I still have issues every now and then. For years I have just lived with this because I couldn't get him to even care about the fact that I was spotted with these big pink hives. When his gf moved in, we had a random rainy day, which seems to have activated the mold. His gf got one tiny little hive and the sniffles. She said to him once, "Hey, I think you have mold in this house." Want to guess what happened after that? You're right. He immediately ordered several mold test kits. I said to my therapist, "How am I supposed to feel about that? Is it really unreasonable, am I really in the wrong to feel hurt by that?" My therapist said, "I mean, I would feel completely invalidated and like I didn't matter." This isn't the first time empathy has been withheld from me obviously (above examples during my flare ups), but sometimes even when it's right in front of him he just can't bring himself to care for some reason. One time a big piece of glass was in my thumb. I said, "Ahhh, glass, help! Glass!" He was eating snacks in the kitchen and just glanced at me, didn't move or say anything. I realized he wasn't going to help, so shaking and bleeding, I managed to pull the glass out with tweezers very painfully. It bled so much and I stood over the sink trying to stop it. My dad just kept eating his snacks, not asking if I was okay or anything, he didn't even look at me. After 5 minutes I still couldn't get the blood to stop and asked my dad if he could help, maybe get me some gauze. He put food in his mouth and sighed, "Just put pressure on it" and walked away. It feels like he's just disgusted with me. I know that he does love me and that he's trying the best he can with all of his mental/emotional/personality flaws but he thinks that just because he puts a roof over my head that he can treat me however he wants and not work on his issues, that it's my fault for being hurt. He thinks that his issues are all on me to learn to endure and it's not right. I know that he resents me for getting in the way of him having a relationship because that's the only message I have gotten since childhood, with every woman he's brought into my home. But in the end his relationships always fall apart because the woman ends up realizing, and stating to him, that he is "emotionally absent". And every time, I comfort my dad through the break up. When he has tried to blame his ex I said once to him that therapy can really help him with his emotional issues and relationships. But he refuses, so. That's on him. But I refuse to believe that I am in the wrong here for saying enough is enough. But he's going to keep trying to make me believe that the problem is just me and my feelings, not his behavior. Nope. Boundary is up. I just have to keep to myself and do what I need to do to stay safe until I can move out. Because I guarantee you he's going to realize he doesn't get enough validation from his gf and then come running back to me as always and then be angry that I'm still holding my boundary strong. I know that this will hurt less as I get distance from it, but I don't like the idea of my pain being my fault when I grew up with this toxic stuff. I'm working so hard to make it hurt less but I can't heal if it keeps happening, so all I can do is back away from what is hurting me instead of being surprised when I'm hurt again. THAT is on me 100%. Hopefully he doesn't grab my desk and slam it against the wall again like in 2014 when I first tried to set this boundary. And of course when he
"apologized" he accused me of "punishing him" by not spending time with him. Jee-zus, dude. Get therapy. I can't be the only one in this family bearing this weight and working on my shit.
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unsaidmar · 3 years
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WC: 2.5k (long winded girl, I know)
Plot: They share stuff and it changes how they see things. Connection ensues. 
CW: Mentions of death, illness, hospitals I guess, violence.
a/n: Hello y’all. This is part two of whatever the fuck is going on inside my pea brain. Hope you enjoy.
Part one, the meeting. 
Two; It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
She laughed at the awkwardness of the text and the perfect grammar Dr. Spencer Reid maintained while texting. Ollie made a mental note to care a little more about the phrasing of her own texts, especially considering the circumstances. To say she wanted to impress him was an understatement.
“Good, germs are yucky.” Sent at 7:45 am.
“Also, hi. Good morning” Sent at 7:45 am.
Good morning? Too much too soon? She fell victim to her overthinking for at least twenty minutes after sending her last text, realizing she had to slowly build up the courage to ask about the next time they would be seeing each other, which apparently would have to wait, since Spencer had an inconvenient schedule and could be out of the state in a matter of 20 minutes.  Ollie exhaled and stood up from her awful office chair to go and make herself some coffee, hoping to stop her mind from reeling and sending her into her usual never-ending pit of despair and anxiety that came with stepping out of her comfort zone.
A ping echoed in the room and her screen lit up, displaying a text from the one person she had been thinking about. Ollies mother would be crying laughing if she saw the state she was in, positively losing hair over the fact that a cute, smart, witty man was texting her back. A man she had spoken to for the first time not even 24 hours prior.
“I’m a nice person, I’m funny sometimes, I offered him coffee.” She whispered to herself, rationalizing every aspect of their interaction. “That’s how friendships start” She laughed bitterly. “I’m here… freaking… wishful thinking, and maybe he has a significant other… maybe he doesn’t even like women… maybe he just thought I was nice and he thought ‘yay, a new friend’… fuck” she plopped herself back on the chair and threw her head back.
Lia would have known what the right thing to do is, she would come up with a cool thing to text back on the spot, and she resented her absence like she had a million times before. Ollie had gotten used to writing her letters like her best friend was living somewhere else in the world and she would eventually read her friend’s attempt at keeping her updated, which she knew was not healthy and definitely not helping her move on.
The thing is, Lia’s death was not a surprise at all. It was a possibility to the point of actually being expected. She had been diagnosed as a terminal patient for a little over a year before she passed and almost everyone around her had made peace with the fact that she could go any day and that life would have to go on without her, but no amount of grief counseling and encouraging talks with Lia’s family could have prepared her for the unimaginable pain Ollie felt when it happened. She had heard about experiences that made the world turn upside down and how some life events made you go numb and make your legs give weight, but had never come face to face with a happenstance that painful.
She figured she was going to have to carry the burden of her loss till the day she died, and even then, the words “I missed you, till the very end.” would be carved in her grave.
Coming back from her spiral, she remembered how she fell down the rabbit hole in the first place. She took her phone with the intention of texting Spencer back and smiled at how stupid she had been to worry about seeing him again.
“Hey, arrest made successfully. Are you busy right now?” Sent at 7:57 am.
Sighing with relief, Ollie smiled and tried to sound casual with her reply as to not sound like seeing him again was the only thing she had been thinking about.
“I’m the boss, I can un-busy myself. Why? Were you charmed by my Keurig?” Sent at 8:00 am.
Spencer was not the kind to send sassy texts, or any text for that matter. This was completely new to him and he was determined to get it right, so he channeled the Derek Morgan that lived within him and prayed to whatever deity was looking out for him to make him sound cooler than he was feeling.
“I’m a sucker for coffee so, yes.” Sent at 8:05
 “I’m a sucker for you, apparently” Ollie nearly screamed at how quickly that came out of her mouth. “Fucking loser, dear God” She shook her head, scolding herself and whatever hamster was in charge of her brain and thought process.
“Mi oficina es tu oficina, then. I’ll be waiting.” Sent at 8:07
Twenty minutes later, he was there, coffee cup in his hands. After what felt like no time at all, they were four coffee cups deep into their conversation and had learned a lot more about each other. Turns out Spencer had a day off after they landed from an away case, he had a thing with germs, his favorite color was purple and his co-workers were more his family than just the people he happened to work with. He liked a bunch of sugar with his coffee and had an eidetic memory that was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.
He was impressed at how this girl was not what you would expect her to be, every aspect of her seemed to make no sense and at the same time, it made perfect sense. This purple haired girl had ADHD and a PhD in history, she was the oldest daughter of two of the most stubborn Mexican immigrants and had a sister that made even the most patient of humans go mad. She loved music, and was not ashamed to admit that her taste in music was far from sophisticated. “I am Taylor Swift’s bitch; I know the words to every single one of her songs! Same goes for One Direction too” She argued when Spencer said that it couldn’t be that bad.
A blaring ring halted their conversation to an unexpected stop. Ollie picked up the office phone with an annoyed grimace and exchanged a few words with whoever was calling.
“Hold that thought, I have to go sign a thingy at the front desk” She dashed out of her office and left Spencer there.
For the first time, he felt compelled to look around and fixate on the details. There were a few old looking pictures and some newer ones with people who looked a lot like her. There was one picture that caught his attention, isolated from the rest like it deserved a spot of its own. In it, there was a red-haired girl that looked around Ollie’s age, one of her arms around her waist and the other one cradling her head that was laying on her shoulder. Ollie’s eyes were closed and the red head looked like she was caught mid-sentence. Stuck to the frame was a little post it note that read “I love you, head ass. -Lia” It looked intimate, they were clearly comfortable with that kind of physical affection, and if Lia hadn’t called Ollie a head ass in the post it, he would have assumed they were together romantically.
Ollie came back in a hurry, apologizing for having to run out like that and sitting back down to resume their conversation.
“It’s okay, don’t worry” Spencer assured her. “I was looking at your pictures, I hope you don’t mind” He said, suddenly very aware of how invasive that could be.
“Not at all, those are there to be looked at” She shrugged, bracing herself for the question she knew was coming. Somehow, talking about Lia with him did not feel as dreadful as it had all those times she was asked about it before, perhaps it’s just him and his calming presence.
Sure enough, he pointed at the picture Lia had framed for valentine’s day and asked, “Who’s that?”.
“That’s Lia, she was my best friend. She is my best friend.” She smiled fondly, something that had never happened before when talking about this specific topic. Maybe sharing Lia’s memory with someone who didn’t know her was different. “She passed away almost a year and a half ago. 468 days ago, to be exact. She was really sick, it was inevitable” Ollie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, reaching for the post it and tracing the words over with her finger.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been”
“It was… heartbreaking. Even with all that time we had to process the news, it still took me off guard.” She shook her head trying to ground herself. “Anyways, that’s a sad topic. I don’t want to bum you out with it.”
He knew the feeling all too well, he had apologized to several people when he rambled about Maeve, feeling like he had said too much and gotten too personal. He was not about to let this beautiful, vibrant soul feel the way he had for so long. Like he still did, truly.
“Don’t apologize, I get it. You’re not making me sad” He felt like he needed to elaborate to actually convey the message. “I went through the same thing with someone I loved too” he said, looking down at his hands, the very familiar feeling of oversharing creeping in. As he looked up, he noticed the sad look Ollie was giving him, but if the profiler in him was right, she was inviting him to share, not to stop.
“Her name was Maeve. She… she was a geneticist. She helped me through a rough time and she became my friend. It’s a long story…” he looked away.
“I want to hear it, long or not. But only if you want me to.” She gave him the warmest smile she could muster, which convinced him to keep going.
“Um, I started getting some headaches a while ago. I went to a few doctors but none of them gave me an answer. I reached out to Maeve for help and… We bonded, I guess.” He took a shaky breath.
“You don’t have to continue if you feel uncomfortable” she whispered in the most delicate tone.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never told this story before. Everyone in my life that I care about was there to see it.” He said, meeting her eyes so she could see how honest he was being. The man got a hold of himself for a minute, and continued.
“Maeve had to go into hiding. She was being stalked by some woman she met at work. Beyond talking on the phone, we hadn’t even met. I had no idea what she looked like and vice versa. This girl, the stalker… She wrote a paper, and Maeve dismissed it because it didn’t have a good enough foundation. When she started stalking her, she scared her into hiding and eventually started dating her ex-fiancé to try and get closer to Maeve, assuming he knew where she was. They ended up finding her and confronting her. She shot herself and the first person I ever loved. Right in front of me and my friends. The first five minutes I got with Maeve face to face, were the last.”
Baring his soul to a person he had known for a whooping 18 hours was the weirdest thing Spencer had ever done, so unlike himself it was almost funny. But at the same time, he felt like it had to happen. By no means did he believe in fate or destiny, but this one moment made him feel like maybe whoever does believe in that stuff, is not completely wrong.
She was not a therapist. She listened because she was going through a similar thing herself and her interest in Spencer’s loss was not rooted in psychoanalyzing him and helping him cope. She was just a mundane human that did not look at him with condescension and pity, she looked at him like she, too, had found a person who wouldn’t ask her “And, how does that make you feel?” in a monotonous voice. They both knew better than to assume they had all the answers.
“Spencer, that’s horrible. I am so sorry you had to see that. Jesus, fuck. I- “She thought about her next words very carefully. “That’s enough to crush anyone’s spirit” She looked at him like he was turning green. The reason being, he did not look like he was crushed. He had a beautiful smile that shook Ollie to her core, he was easygoing and conversation with him was carefree and it flowed easily. If he had not told her about Maeve, she would not have guessed the man sitting right in front of her was as affected as her.
“How did you manage to get through that?” Ollie questioned, fully intending to take notes.
“I don’t really think I have yet…” Well, time to come clean. Spencer thought. “The whole reason I was here yesterday, and a lot more times before that one, is because she and I talked about this museum. She told me about some conferences she had attended here and we made plans to visit together. Doesn’t quite sound like someone who’s over the whole thing.” He fiddled with his fingers, suddenly too aware of how cold it was. “How did you get through Lia’s death?”
“Yeah, well. I don’t really think I’m quite there either. Not like I’m trying, anyways. I can’t seem to get away from the Grey Roots either” Mental images of two little kids running around with dusty books in their hands came to her and she couldn’t help the small smile she broke into.
“I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, I have always thought that the way Lia and I found each other was pure magic. We met when we were in the second grade, right in this museum, we were on a field trip and we clicked. It was crazy to me that I actually met my best friend at such a young age, and the kind that lasts forever too. It sounds like when people meet the love of their lives on their first try. It sounds dorky, I know”
“It doesn’t. If anything, it sounds like you consider yourself lucky to have loved her like you did. We need more people like that, people that believe in magic.” Spencer reassured her with a shrug. He wished he could believe in cute stuff like that, but he was happy Ollie led a life that made her believe.
“Yeah, but us crazy people, we get our hopes up too easily. Sometimes it hurts.”
“Tell me about it.”
And just like that, in the not so well-lit office of the head Conservator of the Grey Roots Museum and Archive, something in the world had shifted.
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averykedavra · 4 years
Text
Valley of the Dolls 3/10
The wonderful idea of apathy!Roman goes to @caffeinated-cryptid, an amazing artist and all-around great person. Check out their @ts-unsolved au, it owns my heart! This is mostly in line with their ideas, but I took it in a slightly different direction. These chapters are getting steadily longer and I’m sorry. You can find this fic on Ao3 here.
(Title is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. Chapter is based around The Record Player Song by Daisy the Great)
Pairings: platonic DLAMPR
Warnings: gun mention, blood mention, eating and food, slight NSFW jokes, depression and depressive symptoms, very minor body horror, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation, sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Janus, a ton of angst (but I’ve got a happy ending planned). Set immediately after Putting Others First.
Summary: After the disastrous video and a week of spiraling, Roman becomes a Dark Side, Apathy. At first, Remus is thrilled, dragging his brother into all sorts of trouble. But Roman’s no fun anymore, the other Sides are paying a visit downstairs, and it’s becoming clear that Thomas can’t survive without Creativity by his side.
Chapter 3: Change of Pace
First. Previous. Next. Masterlist.
Wipe my eyes and cut me off I'm just crying for attention I wish I'd been a teenage rebel Never even got detention I don't really love you I just said that for a change of pace I'm sorry, sometimes I don't recognize my face ...Sometimes I think all I'm ever doing is Trying to convince myself I'm alive.
“So.”
Jan didn’t respond. He was still staring at the door.
“So,” Remus said again, hoping something would happen this time.
“One minute, Remus.”
Remus tapped his feet together and waited. Ten seconds in, he got bored. “So?”
Jan pinched the bridge of his nose. “One. Minute. Remus.”
“It’s been like five minutes already!” Remus complained. “Are you having a mental breakdown?” Remus poked Jan’s cheek. “You seem the type to have a mental breakdown.”
Jan swatted Remus’ hand away. “I am not having a breakdown. I am considering my options.”
“Really?” Remus asked. “What are the options?”
“Forcibly dump Roman back with the ‘Light Sides’, groom him in the ways of evil and selfishness, let him waste away on his own, or burn the entire Mindscape to the ground so I don’t have to deal with this insanity.”
Remus nodded thoughtfully. “I like the last one.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
“But I think you’re forgetting the most entertaining option.” Remus spread his hands. “How about—”
Jan glared at him. “Do not say murder.”
“Ah...” Remus shifted. “Theft! Of his life and internal organs!”
Jan gritted his teeth. “Of course you want to murder Roman.”
“I don’t want to,” Remus protested. “It would just be the most entertaining. He’s more fun when he’s alive! I can stab him and cut his fingers into itty bitty pieces and—”
A vein throbbed in Jan’s forehead. “Remus, be quiet for a second.”
Remus obediently waited a second. “—but I bet we could strangle him without too much trouble, unless you want to be really kinky and get some knives involved—”
“Remus.”
“—I dunno if you’re into that sort of thing...hey, we’ve never found out if you’re poisonous to eat! This could be our chance to—"
“Remus!” Jan snapped. “This has been a very long day. Thomas is sick as a dog from the reconstruction of his entire Mindscape, I had to comfort a sobbing Patton and a panicking Virgil despite not being an empathetic or comforting person, and now I find out that Creativity has been dumped on my doorstep like an unwanted magical orphan. Please, if you have any mercy, let me think.”
Remus looked Jan over. “So...you’re having a breakdown now, right?”
“Why haven’t I killed you yet?”
“Beats me!”
Jan leaned forward and slammed his forehead into Roman’s door.
“JanJan?” Remus tapped his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”
“Praying for spontaneous human combustion.” Jan squeezed his eyes shut. “Give it a second.”
“C’mon.” Remus lowered his volume and tried his best to sound not entirely maniacal. “Let’s say hi to Roman already! Maybe he’s slept off his weird funk. Or maybe this was all thanks to sleep deprivation or a calcium deficiency and he’ll be back to normal in no time!”
“Should we be so lucky.” Jan slowly raised his head. “I suppose I should greet him, despite him definitely not wishing to see me.”
“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Remus confessed. “It says so on the door.”
Jan nodded and knocked twice. “Roman? Can we come in?”
There was no reply.
“Let me in,” Jan ordered. “I am not having a repeat of the past nine days, Roman. I need to speak with you.”
Remus looked at the still-locked door. “Um, JanJan? Try not to sound like you’re going to yell at him for stealing your old record player or disown him for stripping. Just a thought.”
Jan sighed. “Fine. Roman, please. I don’t want this to be the case, but...you’re here now, and I want to help. Preferably to get you out of here as fast as possible. Whatever the case, I—I look after everyone down here. That’s my job. I suppose you’re technically part of that now. So...could you let me in?”
There was a long pause. Remus shuffled from foot to foot, ignoring the itch in his hands and feet. Jan glanced at him and tossed him a fidget cube, the one with the buttons. Remus grinned and began to fiddle with it immediately.
Finally there was a soft click and the door swung open.
Jan breathed a sigh of...relief? Who knew with JanJan. He stepped inside and Remus followed, still enjoying the satisfying click of the buttons.
Nothing in Roman’s room had changed. Roman still lay curled on the bed, staring at the wall.
“Hello,” Jan said delicately, fidgeting with his gloves. Remus chewed on his lip and wondered if Jan needed the fidget cube more than him. “Uh, Roman?”
“He’s listening,” Remus explained. “Just doesn’t bother talking back.”
“Okay. Alright.” Jan tried for a smile. “So! You’re Downstairs now? A ‘Dark Side’, to use your terminology? Do you know why that happened?”
Remus chucked the fidget cube at Roman’s back, but even the small thump didn’t make Roman respond.
“Right, I suppose you couldn’t answer any of my questions if you’re currently mute.” Janus flexed his fingers. “Look. Can I be honest with you?”
That got a small derisive huff from Roman. Remus grinned.
“Yes, haha, I’m Deceit, very funny, let’s continue.” Jan tented his fingers. “You’re upsetting the delicate equilibrium I’ve scrounged from what I was given in this miserable dump, and your presence has implications I’d rather not think about. So I would, if you’d be so kind to let me, like to return you Upstairs and have our darling friends the ‘Light Sides’ figure out how to fix this. Do you understand?”
Roman stared at the wall.
“This is very disconcerting,” Jan muttered. “Roman, please move. Or speak. Or convey to me your sentience.”
“Look, he’s not gonna.” Remus shrugged. “Just roll with it and drag him anywhere he needs to go. He’s, like, really depressed.”
Jan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Depressed?”
“Yeah, he’s blue da ba dee da ba die.” Remus waved a hand. “It’s obvious.”
Jan gave Roman a piercing look. “If that’s the case, maybe we should summon that strange therapist with the pink shirt?”
“Roman’s side of the Imagination,” Remus said. “Dunno what it’ll look like right now. I guess we’ll have to explore...other avenues.”
“I don’t know whether you’re implying sex or torture, but no.”
“Hey, they don’t have to be mutually exclusive, if you—"
“I’m going to stop you right there.” Jan clenched his fist. “Why did I take that oath to never silence you guys?”
“Oh yeah!” Remus turned to Roman. “One of the perks of being down here—JanJan doesn’t shut you up! I mean, I guess he never did anyway ‘cause he says you’re easy to manipulate, but—” Janus coughed loudly. “Anyway! It’s actually pretty cool down here, Ro-Bro! We’ve got a couch and everything!”
Jan’s face worked. Remus didn’t know if he was about to smile or frown. “Yes, because Upstairs, they sit on a giant dinosaur plush to watch TV.”
“That sounds really cool though!” Remus exclaimed. “Remind me to make that later. Then we’ll have a couch and a dinosaur plushie and this handsome face and Jan’s cooking and a ton of other cool stuff!”
“Thank you,” Jan said, “for helping me list more reasons that support my claim: Roman should leave now.”
“I’m just trying to make him feel welcome!” Remus crossed his arms twice over so they slipped in and out of each other like slimy spaghetti noodles. “Look, either we stick him back with the Light Sides who are kind of the reason he’s like this, or let him hang out. Or murder him.”
“No murder.” Jan held out a finger. “I draw the line there. The others would be furious and I’m this close to infiltrating them and gaining their trust.”
“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it?” Remus grinned, darting out of reach. “What about that time you almost cried last week ‘cause PatPat gave you a hug—”
Jan hissed. “Be quiet!”
“What? Can’t handle the truth, Deceit?” Remus glanced at Roman. “Anyway, I really don’t think he’ll be telling anyone.”
Jan was silent. Remus took that as a cue to check Roman over and make sure he hadn’t died while they were talking. Out of the dimly lit hallway, he could see the gauntness of Roman’s face and the paleness of his skin. He had a small cape, and the edges were tucked around him in a makeshift blanket nest. His hair was greasy and unwashed, the dark section stiff like someone had rubbed turds into it.
“I could kill him,” Remus said conversationally. He knew he was repeating himself, he knew Jan didn’t want him to keep bringing it up, but the silence was awful and ill-fitting like an itchy Christmas sweater. “I could just knock him in the skull, he wouldn’t feel a thing!”
Jan opened his mouth, probably to tell Remus he was being annoying—yeah, like Remus didn’t already know, like that wasn’t the whole point of his existence—
“Sounds nice,” Roman mumbled, curling tighter into his blankets.
Remus’ train of thought derailed, smashed through the station, and caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people.
Jan stared at Roman, eyes wide.
“Okayyy,” Remus said slowly. “Um—”
“No!” Jan threw up his hands and stalked towards the door. “No! Absolutely not! I am not equipped for this! We are taking him Upstairs immediately, Remus, and if you get in my way because you want another guinea pig, so help me I will lock you in your room!”
Remus glanced at Roman on the bed. His brother, usually so grand and loud and bold and annoying, looked very small.
“Jan,” Remus called. “Wait.”
Jan paused in the doorway, not turning around. “This had better be good.”
“I—” Remus searched for words. He wasn’t really good at stringing sentences together like Jan, because his thoughts didn’t really come in sentences. They were just bursts of feeling and vivid images.
“Can he stay the night?” Remus sucked in air through his teeth. “I know you hate him, but...maybe a few days?”
“He’s not welcome here,” Jan fired back. “He’s not safe here. You know this.”
“And he’s safe with them?” Remus laughed. “They’re the ones who made this happen in the first place!”
Jan turned around, frowning. “Remus, that’s not what—”
“Please.”
“What?”
“Please,” Remus repeated. “I bet you really want to help but you’re just being slippery about it. Please.”
“Of course I want to help!” Jan snapped. “I protect the ego—helping Roman is, quite literally, in my job description. But I don’t believe letting him wallow in sadness in this hovel hotel will do him any good!”
“So you’re saying you couldn’t do a good job?” Remus laughed. “Hey, I turned out fine! And Virgil’s alright except for the neuroses and panic attacks, but who’s perfect?”
Jan stared at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”
“You know I don’t understand sarcasm!” Remus clasped his hands. “Pretty please, JanJan? Pretty please with mucus and intestine on top?”
A muscle jumped in Jan’s jaw.
“Fine,” he ground out. “He stays. For now. Only because I am not in the mood to go upstairs and deal with that mess again.”
Remus beamed, running up to Jan and spinning him around. “You’re the bestest, Double Dee!”
“Don’t call me that,” Jan muttered, extricating himself. “Let’s go, it’s time for dinner.”
“Goodie!” Remus clapped his hands. “Can Roman come too?”
Jan gave Remus a weary look. “...I suppose we couldn’t let him starve.”
“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist. “You won’t regret this, I swear!”
“I’m sure I won’t,” Jan agreed, watching Remus with a vaguely amused expression. “Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Get Roman down the hall without maiming him, if possible.”
“Will do!”
Jan nodded and swept out the door, leaving Remus alone with his conked-out brother.
“So, Ro-Bro.” Remus stuck out his tongue and licked his eyelids. “You ready to get carried again?”
To his surprise, Roman sighed softly and rolled off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
Remus winced. “Um...good job! You planning to roll to the kitchen?” Roman made a weak gesture.
“You want me to roll you.”
Roman shook his head.
“You—”
Roman slowly, painfully slowly, started to sit up. “Oh!” Remus said, grabbing his hand and helping him to his feet.
Roman slouched, Remus noticed as he finally stood all the way up. His chin was dropped and he didn’t make eye contact. His cape curled around him, a safety blanket. Roman yawned and stumbled.
“Hey, no!” Remus yelled, clapping loudly. “It’s not sleepytime anymore! It’s dinnertime! Do you want to starve to death? Actually don’t answer that, I’m already worried enough about your mental state.”
Roman obligingly didn’t answer. He just sunk out. Remus idly wondered if Roman could rise up anymore or if he’d just appear like the rest of them. Then he thought to wonder where Roman was going.
There was a scream and a crash, and Jan yelled “Please do appear behind me!”
Remus snickered. Question answered.
He sauntered down the hall, pausing to work on a mural he’d been making on the living room wall. It depicted what Remus thought the inside of a stomach would look like. He added a few globs of red on one end before licking the paint off the brush and tossing the brush to the floor.
Jan was boiling water in the kitchen, his extra arms pouring drinks and setting the table. Roman was slumped in one chair, chin in his hand, picking idly at his napkin. Remus swung into the chair opposite him with a large smile and a squelching noise. He tossed a dead duck onto Jan’s chair. Without even looking, Jan grabbed the duck and tossed it in the trash. Boo.
“Here.” Jan ladeled the spaghetti into four bowls. One, he covered with saran wrap and left on the counter. The other three he tossed on the table. Wiping his six hands on the dish towel, Jan finally turned around. Remus saw him flinch slightly when he saw Roman sitting at the table.
Made sense. That used to be Virgil’s spot.
Jan quickly shook off the surprise and sat down, his arms disappearing into his sides. Remus frowned. He liked JanJan’s extra arms. They were all wiggly and opened up all sorts of neat possibilities. He still hadn’t found out if they regenerated after getting cut off. Like a starfish! Or a worm! Or an immortal fire golem! Maybe the hand grew a mind of its own and would scuttle around like one of Virgil’s spiders. It would be fun to have a pet hand. All of Roman’s pets ended up dying gruesomely, and almost five times it wasn’t his fault.
“Eat,” Jan said gently, winding spaghetti around his fork. He’d given Remus a fork, probably out of some delusional optimism that Remus would actually use it. Remus stabbed the fork into his shoulder for safekeeping and shoved a handful of spaghetti into his mouth. Then he popped in two meatballs, squirted sauce directly into his mouth, and swallowed.
Jan pointedly stared at his plate.
Roman wasn’t eating at all. He poked idly at the spaghetti, elbow on the table.
“Cheese?” Jan offered, pushing a bowl of grated cheese toward him.
Roman stared at it thoughtfully. His arm whipped out and he grabbed a handful of cheese, stuffing it into his mouth.
“You know,” Remus said, grinning, “I’m starting to like you.”
“There’s two of you.” Jan watched Roman swallow with disgust. “There’s two of you.”
“This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Remus wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Someone who truly understands me.”
Jan snorted. Roman didn’t. He let the remaining pieces of cheese fall from his hand and resumed staring at his spaghetti.
“It’s not poisoned,” Remus assured him. “Jan wouldn’t do that again. And anyway, I’d have been poisoned by now. Unless it’s one of the poisons I’ve built up a resistance to. Then you might be screwed.”
Roman set his fork down and pushed the plate away.
“Roman,” Jan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not poisoned.”
Roman pushed the plate a little further away.
“Cheese isn’t a meal.” Jan pushed the plate back. “You need to eat.”
Roman looked away. “Not hungry.”
Jan gave Remus a loaded expression. Remus didn’t like that. The only things he liked loaded were guns and bank accounts.
But Jan took another bite of spaghetti and his expression smoothed over. “It was a huge scene Upstairs.”
“Really?” Remus leaned forward. “I want the juicy details!”
“Well, they’re all extremely distraught about the loss of their prince.” Jan’s eyes flickered over to Roman. “Virgil had a panic attack, I believe. Logan was furious, I couldn’t tell who at. Thomas immediately collapsed with a fever, and Patton wouldn’t stop sobbing into my shoulder.” Jan brushed at the offending shoulder. “It might have been amusing under different circumstances, but this time it was just sad.”
“Damn.” Remus tore a meatball in half and stuck the halves on his middle fingers. “Wish I could have seen that.”
“They probably won’t fully recover for days.” Jan glanced at Roman again. “That entire debacle in Roman’s room shook Virgil and Thomas up. I have no idea what actually happened, but from what I heard, it sounds nightmarish.”
Roman curled into himself, grasping at one side of his cape. “Sorry,” he whispered into his spaghetti.
“No, I—” Jan stammered. “R-right. Well, doubtless as soon as they recover, your friends will be marching down here and getting you back. Virgil especially would hate to leave you in such company. They won’t trust me to take care of you, that’s for certain. Perhaps they’ll mount some sort of rescue mission.” Jan smirked. “That would certainly be entertaining. If they call upon me to play the villain, I will gladly oblige.”
“Liar,” Roman muttered. “What?”
Roman’s mouth closed. Jan stared at him. So did Remus.
“O-of course I’m a liar,” Jan said. “My name is Deceit.”
Wait—which was the lie? That Jan would want to play villain? That the Sides didn’t trust Jan? That the Sides would come for Roman at all?
Remus funneled spaghetti into his mouth. Thinking sucked. That’s why he left the smarty-pants stuff to Jan.
Jan, who was now stabbing at his spaghetti viciously. Roman’s eyes closed and he seemed to fall asleep in the table. Remus grabbed his bowl and placed it on his head, letting the remaining tendrils of spaghetti crawl down his forehead.
Jan slammed his fork on the table. “Did I do this?”
Remus scrunched up his face in confusion. “Do what? A murder? A butthole?”
“This.” Jan gestured violently at Roman. “Is this my—I mean, am I going to be held accountable for this?”
“Why do you care?” Remus asked.
“I’d rather not be burned at the stake for corrupting the good prince Creativity.” Jan bit into every word. “So? Roman? Is this my fault?”
Roman didn’t open his eyes. Remus was sure he hadn’t heard the question until Roman said,
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Jan hissed. “That is not an answer!”
Roman shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.”
Jan opened his mouth and shut it again.
“If you’re not gonna eat your food,” Remus said to Roman, “can I—”
“I’ll save it as leftovers,” Jan interrupted, taking Roman’s plate and sliding it into the fridge. “Remus, touch it and your life is forfeit.”
Remus pouted. “Roman wouldn’t mind, right, Roman?” Roman snored softly, head on the table.
“Is he asleep?” Jan asked.
“I guess?” Remus shrugged. “Must have been tired.”
“Hmph.” Jan placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “There goes my plan to force him into doing dishes. If he’s loitering around for the night, he may as well make himself useful.”
Remus looked at Roman, who was drooling on the table. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it.” Janus sighed loudly, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.
“But I can do the dishes!” Remus offered, jumping up and wiggling his fingers. “I’ll just need some hot wax, molten lava, and—”
“Never mind.”
“It’ll take like three seconds! Literally!”
“Never mind, Remus.”
“Fine, whatever.” Remus kicked his chair. “You’re full of don’ts today. What can I do?”
Jan’s face pinched. “I suppose you can accompany me this evening.”
“Yay!” Remus hugged Jan quickly. “What are we doing?”
“I was thinking Aladdin. A classic tale of lying and deceiving one’s way to the top.”
“Alright!” Remus grinned. “I like the genie.”
“You would.” Jan glanced at Roman. “Maybe a Disney movie would—get him moving.”
“I don’t think he’d get moving if there was nuclear fallout, but worth a shot.” Remus slid into the living room. “Let’s go!”
“You get it ready,” Jan said. “I have to...” He picked up the fourth plate of spaghetti.
“Right.” Remus really, really didn’t want to be alone with his brother. It would be silent and deadly. “I’ll come with!”
Jan, to his credit, didn’t look immediately disgusted. “Remus, I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“I’m coming!” Remus winked and congratulated himself for his innuendo. Then again, everything was innuendo if you said it right. “You said we’d get to hang out! So I’m sticking to you like a barnacle on the bum!”
“Sh*t,” Jan said, not looking that disappointed.
“Do you have some?” Remus asked, dancing over to the hallway. “That’d make things interesting! Come on, JanJan, let’s not keep him waiting!”
Jan pushed past Remus and strode down the hall. Remus followed, reciting every sex position he knew. It was victory every time Jan winced or said “Really, Remus?” Heck, it was a victory every time Jan looked in his direction. Momentary distraction was the peak of Remus’ social skills and all he could ever hope to achieve.
They passed Remus’ room—Remus made sure to make the door roar loudly and enjoyed Jan’s little jump—and came to the handle-less door. Jan carefully unlocked the flap and slid the spaghetti inside. As soon as it fell in, he slammed the flap shut and locked it again.
“Why do you do that?” Remus asked, summoning a bone and chewing on it.
“You know how dangerous he is.” Jan stood up and wiped off his gloves.
“No, I mean, why feed him? It’d be safer if you...let him be, right?”
Jan gave Remus a piercing look. “He’s a part of Thomas too, whether we like it or not. I’m self- preservation. I can’t just let him starve.” Jan marched back down the hallway. “Aladdin, was it?”
“Huh.” Remus tossed the bone at a wall and it cracked in two. “So how’s Roman different?”
Jan froze. “I...Because Roman has somewhere else to go. Aladdin, right? Let’s go, Remus.”
Remus spared a glance at the unmarked door and followed.
Aladdin was alright. Remus made a little ding sound every time Aladdin was shown shirtless. Janus hummed along to all the songs, though he bared his teeth when Remus pointed it out. Roman woke up briefly about halfway through, having been transplanted to a pile of cushions on the couch. Remus wondered if he would sing along. Instead he just hummed to himself and closed his eyes. For a second he nodded along to the music—no, no he was just nodding off, and okay he was asleep again.
When Aladdin ended, Remus put on The Shining. Janus took that as a cue to leave.
“Put Roman to bed,” Janus reminded him. “Well...he’s already asleep, but don’t let him stay on the couch all night.”
“He seems pretty chill,” Remus said, watching Roman’s bangs ruffle with each snore.
“Then do whatever you want.” Janus yawned. “This has been a thoroughly delightful day and I hate to end it, but my brain may explode if I have to continue thinking. Don’t burn anything down.”
“No promises!” Remus said. “Night, JanJan!”
“Sweet dreams, Remus.”
Yeah. Right.
Jan disappeared down the hallway, leaving Remus alone. It was the boring part of The Shining, so he fast-forwarded to the weird part. Roman didn’t wake up even when the screams started. Still, it was kind of nice to have company. Usually Remus spent his nights alone, bingeing horror flicks until his eyeballs were red. He didn’t really get tired, so it didn’t matter, and he did some of his best work at night.
It definitely wasn’t because of the nightmares.
Remus caught himself mid-thought. Lying would just alert JanJan. And it wasn’t Jan’s business. Yeah, maybe Remus missed Jan’s lullabies and being able to actually act on that promise that ‘My door is always open, Remus.’ Maybe it would be nice if he didn’t have grisly dreams of his friends dying every night. But Jan was busy these days. And Remus was Intrusive Thoughts. This was part of the deal. Remus was all the nasty stuff siphoned off of Roman to keep it away from Thomas. It was his job. And Remus loved his job! Just...not the side effects.
Remus turned up the volume until his eardrums rattled and he couldn’t hear himself think. Roman muttered something and turned over.
It was loud. Really loud. Remus barely noticed when someone appeared in the doorway.
He did notice when the TV turned off.
“Hey!” Remus whirled. “Jan, what gives—”
It wasn’t Jan.
“Sorry,” Patton said, “but I’d like to talk to you.”
“Um.” Remus debated hollering for backup. “This isn’t the best time.”
“I know.” Patton stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Please? Just a minute?”
Remus shrugged, catapulted himself over the back of the couch, and bowed. “What can I help you with? You finally decided to murder that really annoying barista?”
“What? No!” Patton frowned. “Remus, murder is wrong!”
“Yeah, yeah, if you’re boring.” Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, what’s the scoop? Haven’t got all night.”
“Right.” Patton nodded. “Um, have you seen Roman?”
Remus choked on air. “Say what now?”
“Roman,” Patton repeated. “Look, stuff—um, kind of got out of control today, so I was wondering—”
“Of course he’s here!” Remus laughed. “He’s a Dark Side now, PatPat! He’s asleep on the couch right now!”
There was a loud thump behind him.
“He’s asleep on the floor!” Remus winced. “Give me a sec?”
Patton nodded. Remus vaulted back over the couch and grabbed Roman’s sleeping form. “C’mon, bro, that cannot be comfortable. I’m putting up with the couch thing ‘cause I’m lazy and like the company, but you’ll put a real crick in your neck down there. Come on, up you get. There we go.” He shoved Roman into the pillows, made sure he was secure, and popped back over the couch. “You were saying?”
Patton’s eyes were wide. “He’s...he’s a Dark Side?”
“Oh, don’t act so pleased about it!” Remus folded his arms. “Thought you were trying to be nicer to us.”
“I am, I just—” Patton glanced at Roman, who was snoring on the couch. “I’m worried about him.”
“’Course you are! Join the club!” Remus grinned. “But he’s alright for now. We’ve got things under control!”
Patton didn’t look convinced. “Can you let me talk to him?” “He’s asleep.”
“When he wakes up?”
“He’ll probably fall right back asleep.”
“Well.” Patton nodded. “I’d like to talk to him at some point. Bring him Upstairs when you can.”
“Sure,” Remus said, gritting his teeth. “Upstairs. Soon.”
“Thanks,” Patton said, looking relieved. Remus noticed the skin around his eyes was red. “Um, tell Janus hi? And tell Roman...tell him I love him, alright?”
“Tell him yourself some other time.”
“I-I did.” Patton bit his lip. “He didn’t believe me.”
“Oh.” Remus clicked his tongue. “Gotcha. I’ll tell him.”
“Thanks,” Patton said again. “That means a lot.”
“Cool,” Remus said. “Are we...done here? ‘Cause I’ve got, like, things to do—”
“Right! Sorry!” Patton laughed. “I’ll get out of your hair!”
“Have fun,” Remus said, strolling to the couch. “Stay alive, don’t turn into a frog with abs again ‘cause that was weird even by my standards, and watch your step ‘cause your left foot is in a puddle of blood.”
Patton squeaked and stumbled backwards. Remus laughed as he tried frantically to wipe off his shoes. Finally he just removed the shoe altogether, pinching it between two fingers and looking at it warily.
“Bye!” Remus said, hopping on top of the couch and waving.
“Bye!” Patton called back. “Oh, and Remus?”
Remus twisted his neck around like an owl. “Yeah?”
Patton didn’t even flinch. “I’m glad Roman has you. Good luck, kiddo.”
“Oh.” Remus tried not to cry. “Uh. Cool. Yeah.”
Patton gave him another smile and walked back down the hall.
Remus sank weakly into the couch, staring at the blank TV. His stomach was doing weird things. It was all bubbly and fizzy and light like he’d swallowed a sparkler. He hated it.
So he turned the TV back on. Roman slept through the night, Remus didn’t sleep at all, and despite all the blood and guts he filled his head with it, he couldn’t avoid the memory of Patton’s soft smile.
Next. Masterlist.
General taglist:
@the17thmeatball
@most-likely-fandom
@csi-baker-street-babes
@caffeinated-cryptid
Valley of the Dolls taglist:
@marsofthestars55
@cluttered-wonder
@wouldnt-you-like-that
@gotta-love-alejandra
@mihaela-tbg
@tombombadi1
@kaefish
@not-enough-sketchbooks
@marshmallow-fluffy
@confusedhost
@ghostlygalactics
@a-salty-alto
@youthquake-in-the-making
@itriedandimtired
@aromantic-karamatsu
@fear-is-nameless
@somehow-i-got-an-account
@sanders-cider
@astronomical-bagel
@aprincehasgotoslay
@boomboxwizard14
@fancycomedypositivitypeanut
@willowaudreykeyes
@lovestruck-prince
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@shade-romeo
@glassferns
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coastaldragon · 3 years
Text
Dragon Diary 1/7/21
So...this is my resolution for the year.
I wanted to start a kin-related diary. I found myself missing how often I used to muse about myself and my experiences here, and have long since felt...detached from myself. Stuck in the loop of going through the motions of “human.”
A week late on my first entry, but so it goes.
These entries will just be flow-of-consciousness blabbles for the most part. I’ll talk about any kin-related thoughts I’ve had that day, how I’ve been feeling, how my otherkinity has affected my day, etc.
I have a lot of catching-up to do with you all, so the first few entries may seem disjointed and a little long. Lets get started. This is long. And a bit negative. But hopefully they won’t all be.
cw for death and drug mention and health talk like needles and stuff
I don’t quite remember why I dropped Tumblr like I did. I think I was getting annoyed at all the UI changes, and just overall very busy with “real life.” These things happen. I slowly drift away from a platform. Sometimes for weeks, months, or years in this case. Then I’ll drift back. Kind of like a scrap of wood on the waves.
In the time I’ve been gone life has been...interesting. The source of the stress that caused me to awaken in the first place is gone. He OD’d in...2014? 2015? Some time around there. My grasp of time is worse than ever.
We hadn’t even known he’d be using anything. Turned out he was stealing my late father’s remaining fentanyl supply. One of those guys who preys on widows like my mother. He lied about everything. His entire past as we knew it was a lie. And he was just leeching off of us.
It was...hard. I was the one who found his body upon getting home from work. My mother is still traumatized, even now. Even after all he did. She did love him.
I think all that hardened me quite a bit. And I’m sad for it. I’m still trying to soften myself again, but my trust has never been shattered like that before or since.
My now health is...poor. I had a great job working at an independent pack-and-mail sort of place for a few years. Very laid back, when the customers were nice. Helped me build a lot of strength and muscle. Quite enjoyed showing off by hefting 50lb boxes onto my shoulders. Helped me feel less weak in this squishy human body of mine.
But about...2 or 3 years ago [again, time is a myth to my brain] I woke up and my shoulders were just.
Locked.
It felt like someone had stuck paint spanners under my shoulder blades or something. Not only that, but I was weak. I barely had the strength in my arms to lift a half gallon of milk in the morning.
We thought I’d just hurt myself showing off, somehow. So we gave it some time. Took ibuprofen, used pain creams. Took a few days off work.
But it didn’t get better. It got painful. And the moreso. And moreso. And then my back began to have trouble as well. It was spreading. I felt...ill.
So. Doctors. Tests. More bloodwork than I’ve ever had in my entire life. [10 vials at once for one appt!]
My primary, who is a garbage person I never wish to see again, insisted it was just a sprain. Or something. Whatever. But I knew it wasn’t. My mother knew it wasn’t. Everyone I knew knew it wasn’t.
Specialist time! At the behest of my cousin, who has a litany of autoimmune disorders, we hooked up with a rheumatologist. Who I will call Dr.M. 
Dr.M is an angel on Earth. I am convinced of it. A full year he spent with me, ordering tests, trying treatments, working with me to figure out what the hell was going on. And we did. And what a mouthful it is.
Ankylosing spondylitis. No, it’s not a dinosaur. [Though I do think I’m ‘hearted for ankylosaurines...I don’t think it’s related lol!]
You can look it up if you like. But basically: My immune system is fucking crazy and attacks all the things. Most places describe it as being a lower spine disorder, and while that is certainly where its centralized in most folks, that’s not all it is.
For example mine is, obviously, centralized in my shoulders and upper back. But it does aaaaaaaaaaall sorts of crazy shit. Every day is different. Joint pain, exhaustion, GI trouble, stomach upset, lack of appetite, murderous migraines. The usual for an autoimmune illness. But also wacky shit like costochondritis [painful inflammation of the cartilage of the ribs], random organ inflammation like in my kidneys [not fun], lungs [I had a 3-month stint of chronic bronchitis last winter], and even my heart [very not fun.] Sometimes it likes to attack my “integumentary system” aka shit like my skin and hair meaning I’ll have weeks where my hair just. Sheds. Like a damn cat. It gets everywhere and w/ my long-ass quarantine hair it’s so annoying.
This attack dog immune system does mean it’s unlikely for me to catch little bugs like your common colds and stuff, which is appreciated. But it also likes to maul anything else it deems foreign. Like medication! I took Humira shots for a few months and had a “paradoxical reaction” aka it did the literal opposite of what it was meant to, because the injections pissed off my immune system so much it went scorched-earth on whatever it could. Mostly my thighs, since that’s where the injections were. I still get stabbing pain in them and it’s been over a year. [No, I don’t think I can sue Humira over this. Though I have discussed it w/ my Dr.]
This also means that if I do get sick, it’s bad news. Something strong and unique like COVID? Death. Deaaaaaaaaath. Would likely trigger something called a “cytokine storm” aka my immune system nukes everything and my organs die and so do I.
So guess whoooooooo’s been locked up at home for almost a full year now? :’)
I luckily am able to work from home, though it barely pays the bills, and my health has suffered from a lack of being able to Do Stuff I normally would.
As a result I decided to get back in touch with myself.
It started with Second Life, because of course it did. A new dragon avatar came out. Shiny and mesh and easy [by SL standards] to modify. So me and a few friends [some kin, some not] made a group for sharing stuff for the av and just hanging out. It’s fallen by the wayside unfortunately but those nights spent chilling in SL with a bunch of other dragons roaring and goofing off felt really really good.
And then I made a kin Twitter. [And found some exceptionally cool kinfolk in the process.] 
Then came Othercon the virtual otherkin convention and OtherConnect, the Discord spawned from the community that rapidly formed within the con. Othercon felt incredible. Panels and lectures about the history of otherkinity and alterhumanity and how we are today and rep in the media and just so! Much! Cool! Stuff! And tons of great kinfolk too! 
To not only be within a community but seeing others like me and speaking with them, not just typing back at words on a screen. It was...so very, very reaffirming. It felt like a second awakening almost. I wanted to cry for finally, truly not feeling alone.
And now I’m here. Because I need to be. Because something, deep down, is telling me I’m going to be needing myself sometime soon. So I’d better get started.
I hope I don’t drift away on the tide again. I’ve missed this site, worse for wear as it is.
But I’m a bit tired today. A nasty headache lingering from yesterday’s nastier flare up. Accursed cold fronts. I used to enjoy them but not so much these days. Ah well.
I know there wasn’t much kin talk in this first entry, but as I said, we had a lot of catching-up to do!
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mymoodwriting · 4 years
Text
Kindness Goes A Long Way
F!Reader x Sicheng
Genre: Post Apocalypse AU
Warning: Mind Control, Manipulation, Illness, Aggression
Words: 2.4K
Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Epilogue
Prompt: The end of the world is hard to accept as it is, but it’s even harder to be alone. It seems fate had brought you to Sicheng, someone who can definitely survive in the abandoned waste land that had become of Earth. You then find yourself with a group of others, and you might just have a chance at survival. The only problem is there’s something off about the group, something they’re not telling you, and it might mean the difference between life and death.
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“What happened!”
    Sicheng entered the medbay after being informed you ended up there last night. Of course he knew, he was the one who caused the incident, but he had to admit he was curious what the humans would come up with. Although before he could get his answer he glared at the boy sitting by your bed.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Her friend.” Haechan got up. “Any you?”
“Y/n, doesn’t have any friends.”
“I knew her before the war.”
“Sure you did.” Sicheng focused on Johnny. “What happened?”
“She fainted.” Haechan answered. “You never said who you were or how you know y/n?”
“None of your business.”
“It is my business. If you were with her out there then she could be hurt cause of you!”
“Enough!” Johnny shouted. “Both of you calm down alright. Y/n’s fine, but she probably fainted from seeing you, Haechan.”
“What?”
“She hasn’t had the best time out there in the wasteland that was Earth.”
“What does that mean?”
“She-”
“Johnny.” Sicheng hissed. “I appreciate it if you don’t blab about her situation. If she wants to tell him she can, later.”
“Right. I just mean seeing a familiar face, she probably didn’t expect to see an old friend again, and the emotions probably overwhelmed her and cause her to faint. Like I said, she’s fine, and she should be waking up soon.”
“I agree.”
    Kun had been listening in to the conversation from the start, also knowing what Sicheng had done last night.
“No.”
“Sicheng, I will wake her up myself.”
“I said no.”
“The longer she’s under, the more suspicious they’ll get.”
“Fine, fine whatever.”
    Sicheng gently pet your head, you were peaceful, and at least you got enough sleep too. He leaned down and kissed your head, stepping back. He couldn’t see but behind him Haechan was glaring. A moment later you groaned and slowly opened your eyes. You looked around, taking in your surroundings and recognizing the medbay.
“What happened…”
“I don’t know.” Sicheng laughed. “You tell us.”
“I… I don’t remember…”
“What do you remember?” Johnny asked. “The last thing?”
“I went to bed… at least I thought I went to bed…”
“Okay, well, I needed to run some tests anyway.”
“Alright…” You looked at Sicheng, worried. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine y/n.” He kissed your head. “I have to get going, so just take it easy today.”
“I’ll stay then.” Haechan volunteered. “For support.”
“Yeah, no.” Johnny said. “Both of you leave. I do take doctor patient confidentiality seriously, so out.”
♥♥♥♥♥
    Haechan and Sicheng already didn’t seem to like each other, but that was a problem for another time. Later on Haechan returned to the infirmary, but you were already gone. Nothing bad had come up from the tests, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.
“Can I ask…” Haechan mumbled. “What happened… to her…”
“I suppose I can tell you since I doubt she’d want to speak of it.”
    Johnny told Haechan about the incident you had been through, how you didn’t really trust people anymore, except for maybe Sicheng and his group. Knowing that, it would make more sense why you passed out, Haechan wasn’t just people, but an old friend, so those two memories would most likely clash.
“I guess that makes sense but…”
“But what?”
“Look… we need to keep this a secret, just between us.”
“Okay? What is it?”
“Last night, while I was talking with y/n, before she passed out, she told me to help her.”
“And?”
“Then she passed out.”
“I don’t get it.”
“She was trying to tell me something.”
“Or maybe she knew she was going to faint and asked you for help so she didn’t hit the ground.”
“I don’t know though, it was very weird… and she doesn’t remember what happened.”
“It might come back to her or not, she seems fine either way.”
“Stil…”
“Well she works in the kitchen, all the way in the back, if you’re curious.”
“Really? Thanks, hyung.”
“Whatever, but hey, I know you guys knew each other before, but you can’t forget the world has changed, she has, and so have you. Take things slow.”
“Yeah… yeah I got it.”
♥♥♥♥♥
    At lunch time Haechan made his way into the kitchen, looking around for you. It wasn’t that hard to find you given how isolated and quiet you were. He manages to convince you to join him for lunch, out in the cafeteria. You certainly were nervous but at least you were with Haechan, someone you knew, so you felt like you’d be okay.
    Of course the issue was that people knew Haechan so they would greet him, and some probably would have sat down if not for some look they were given. Besides eating you guys used the time to catch up. You didn’t want to talk about your situation, and he knew it, so he mostly just told you how he ended up there, and what he did, he worked on the farms.
“Ah, so you provided all the vegetables.”
“I help with that, yeah.”
“I’m glad… I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.”
    You wanted to take things slow, but at the same time you didn’t want to be close to him. Things weren’t going to end well, and you didn’t know if you could handle it. If you could tell Haechan the truth you would, but no matter how bad you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t. After a shower you were ready for bed, but Sicheng was waiting for you. Before you could say anything he grabbed your head and started looking through your memories from last time. He could have done it before, but it was easier to do when you were much closer.
    Of course the memory of that kiss came up, and you weren’t expecting Sicheng to take it well. When his eyes opened they kept that blue glow, and for once it was menacing. Worst of all he didn’t just see the kiss, he knew how you felt about it, and that little call for help. He was upset, angry, something you didn’t know he’d ever feel. You couldn’t help but start tearing up, afraid of what was going to happen next.
“So that’s why your heart beat suddenly rose? You kissed him?”
“I-”
“Did you like it? Do you like him? You don’t have to answer that cause I know.”
“Please… please don’t kill him…”
“That’s not up to either of us.”
“Sicheng-”
“Shut up. No more late night walks. You’re causing unnecessary trouble, and seeing him is messing with your head.”
“But I-”
“Have you forgotten what happened to you out there? Who saved you? Humans can’t be trusted, you just turn on each other and hurt on another. We’re trying to help your kind, and all I need you to do right now is lay low and behave.”
“Not like I have a choice…”
“What was that?”
“Nothing…”
“I’m just doing what’s best for you, all of you. Trust me, and behave.”
“I don’t want him to die… Sicheng, ple-”
    You passed out in his arms, having been put to sleep. Sicheng sighed, his eyes finally losing their glow, and put you into bed. He sat on the edge, annoyed with himself as well for these feelings of jealousy. If anything, he was the one causing unnecessary trouble.
“I don’t get it.” Hendery said. “I thought the memory change would make it so she wouldn’t trust any humans.”
“Yeah, but she knew Haechan before that.” Ten said. “Those feelings of mistrust wouldn’t really apply to him given their past.”
“Guess Sicheng didn’t think of that.”
“The likeliness of someone from y/n’s past being here was very low.” Xiaojun added. “Although still very possible. So, what are you gonna do?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it.”
    Sicheng sighed and laid down, putting a chip on your head and pulling you into his arms. As much as he wanted to avoid the subject he needed to know more. While you slept he took the time to look through your memories of Haechan, see who he was and what he meant to you. He hated it, seeing how happy he made you, the history between you two. He wanted his chance as well, but he was on mission right now, so he couldn’t do that, although he could do something else for his own benefit.
    You started squirming in Sicheng’s arms, whimpering and wanting to wake up, but couldn’t. Sicheng had brought up his fabricated memories of the massacre you witnessed, and kept you under, in a way forcing you to relive it. You were sobbing in his arms, and even if you weren’t awake, you felt better being so close to him. He knew that of course, and it was the point, should keep you away from Haechan for a while.
♥♥♥♥♥
    In the morning you seemed pretty shaken up, quiet and reserved. You didn’t want to leave the room, the memories of that day fresh in your mind. Of course that wasn’t really an option, you had to earn your keep there.
“Bad dream?”
“Something like that…”
“Maybe you should stay in today.”
“I can’t… I’m fine…”
“You sure?”
“Yeah… yeah I’ll be fine.”
“Okay then.”
    Sicheng got you on your feet, seeing how sad you were. He regretted his actions a bit but it was necessary. He watched you for a bit then slowly leaned over to kiss you. It caught you off guard a bit, given how soft and slow he was being. You kissed back, wondering what his lips taste like. He wasn’t cold, in fact he felt human, he felt real, but you knew he wasn’t. In the moment though you could pretend a bit. He pulled away, looking at you, seeing how you had closed your eyes. You looked at him, not sure what to say. He seemed content with your reaction, brushing some hair behind your ear.
“Take it easy today okay.”
“Yeah.”
♥♥♥♥♥
    Knowing you were around added something more to Haechan’s everyday life. When he had free time during the day he’d like to go find you, although things didn’t always go his way. He went to the back, hoping to share a meal with you again.
“Um… no thanks… maybe some other time.”
“Oh, are you alright?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah… just… bad dream. I’d like to be left alone.”
“Ah… yeah, yeah sure…”
    It was weird, but at least Haechan could understand your situation a bit. He wanted to help you feel better, thinking maybe if he could get some sweets from the vault might help. Of course he had to beg Mark for access since things like sweets were rare and mostly for kids. Although as he made his way to the kitchen when he knew it was the end of your shift he froze.
    He could see you in Sicheng’s arms, dry tears on your face. It made sense, as much as he would want to comfort you, Sicheng was the hero of that nightmare. He had to admit he was weary of that guy, or maybe his suspicions was just jealousy, either way he should look into it. Since he wasn’t going to be seeing you for the rest of the day he went to his usual hangout place.
“You know, you’re here so often, you might as well apply to transfer to the medbay.” Johnny said. “I could use an assistant.”
“You think they’d let me?”
“Sure, especially if I ask.”
“What is there to do here anyway?”
“Organize, keep record of medicine expiration, do check ups on residents. Basic stuff, I could teach you.”
“I’ll consider it, although can I ask you for a favor?”
“What’s up.”
“Y/n had a nightmare. She was pretty distant today, you think you can check in on her.”
“A nightmare?”
“Yeah, probably about what happened.”
“Ah, gotcha. I’ll check up on her then. See if you were my assistant I could have you do that.”
“I’ll consider switching jobs then.”
“Not a bad idea, promise.”
♥♥♥♥♥
    Johnny and Haechan had come into the safe haven together, so they were pretty close. So when his friend asked him to check in on you over a nightmare he would keep his word. Before the usual curfew time came to pass Johnny went over to your room. He knocked, opening the door and peeking in a bit after not getting an answer. He saw your figure in bed and let himself in, going over. He knew you shared a room with Sicheng, but for the most part that boy stayed up pretty late on the daily.
“Hey, y/n.” He whispered. “Y/n…”
    As he approached he could see that you were sleeping, laying on your side. At least you weren’t tossing around so it wasn’t a bad dream, yet. He reached over and shaked you but got no response. He tried again, this time rolling you on your back and jumping back, hand over his mouth. Now that he could see your face he could see the chip on your head, and he knew what that meant.
    He was panicking to say the least, and he knew he had to leave. You rolled back on your side, making it so no one coming in would notice it. Johnny quietly rushed out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.
“What are you doing?”
    Sicheng’s sudden voice and appearance startled Johnny, but he quickly composed himself. He forced a smile to his face, since he was your roommate, he was very suspicious.
“You scared me there.” Johnny laughed. “I was just coming to check on y/n, make sure she’s okay. I thought she might still be awake but I could see she was sleeping and backed out. I promise I didn’t creep in there. Can you tell her to come by to see me tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll let her know.”
“Thanks. See you around.”
    Sicheng watched him leave, thinking it was a bit strange to see him, but doctors do make house calls so he shrugged it off. He went into the room, seeing that you were still asleep exactly how he left you. If everything kept going to plan, this would all be over soon enough.
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lovelyharrystories · 5 years
Text
Falling is the easy part (single!mom) - Chapter four
masterlist
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“You ready to go?” He asked as he saw you walking out of your house with a bag in your hands.
“I think I am.” You said and handed your bag to him, so he could put it in the trunk.
“Then get comfortable because this will be a three-hour drive.” He said and started the engine and drove off. He still couldn’t believe you had agreed to go with him to London. It would only be for two days since you can’t miss work but he had really thought he screwed up by asking you to come.
“I am really excited to go to London.” You said, and Harry couldn’t help the smile on his face as he saw the excitement on yours. You were like a little kid going to Disney.
“Well they are giving pretty good weather for this time of the year, so we get to walk around a bit and explore.” He said.
“I went to the library yesterday and got a travel guide that says all the things you need to see.” You said, looking in your purse for said book.
When you finally found the book in the massive handbag you took with you, Harry could see you had already putted post-it’s on the pages with the monuments you want to see.
Harry laughed at that and you looked at him with a confused look. “What are you laughing about?” You asked.
“Nothing.” Harry said but you both knew he was lying because he was still snickering.
“Tell me!” You said and slept the book on his arm.
“First of all, aw!” Harry said, and he could see you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “And secondly, you are such a teacher.” He said, and you looked even more confused.
“Why would you say that?” You said, and you tried your best to sound offended, but Harry could see right through it.
“You know what I mean. You have this whole tripped planned out already in your head. Like you would go on a field trip with your class.” He said and looks over at you.
“I guess you can say that my job makes me more organised and I do not have this whole trip planned out. I am a very in this moment type of person.” You said stubbornly.
Harry laughed again, and you looked at him with a challenging yet very cute stare. “Okay I believe you.” He says after you are staring him down for like a minute.
“Let’s put on some music to cut the tension because this trip has started off with an argument already.” You said turned the volume of the radio up. Harry laughed at your comment about you already having an argument and it wasn’t long until he could hear your cute giggles joining in.
The trip had taken longer than expected since there was an accident a few miles away from London which got you to stand still for a half an hour and Harry discovered something about you he never thought he would.
“Holy shit YN, you are the worst in traffic.” Harry said once he parked in his garage.
“No, I am not.” You said and pouted like a five-year-old.
“You are, you just yelled at like ten cars since we entered London.” Harry said laughing.
“Yeah, well that’s because people in London can’t drive apparently.” You said trying to defend yourself.
“I never took you as such a short-tempered driver. I am discovering a whole new side about you.” Harry said, and it was true. You were such a calm and sweet person, it seemed like nobody could do anything bad to you, but you changed his mind after this four-hour trip.
“Shut up, you act like you just discovered I murdered someone.” You said and got out of the car.
Harry rolled his eyes and said, “You might as well could have.”
“I heard that!” He heard you yell from the back of the car where you were taking your bag out of the trunk.
“I was only joking and let me help with your bag.” Harry said and took the bag from your hands.
“I can carry my bag myself.” You said stubbornly and harry couldn’t help but be confused about your mood.
“Are you mad at me because I said that because I didn’t mean it in any bad way and half of the stuff I was saying is a joke. I hope you know that right.” Harry said looking at you and he could see the annoyed look vanishing from your face and guilt taking its place.
“No, I know, I am just a bit stressed. I am sorry.” You said, and you shook your head in an aggressive matter making Harry confused at what you were doing exactly.
“So, now that I got rid of these thoughts. How about you show me your humble place.” You said, and Harry smiled at you leading the way inside the house. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling away that there was still something on your mind.
.
“And this will be your room for the weekend.” Harry said and opened the door. He had given you a tour through the whole house and your reaction was hilarious. He never thought a person could be so excited over pillows and kitchen utilities.
“This room is massive.” You said and walked inside getting on the bed.
“How many bedrooms does this house have?” You asked.
“Four and three bathrooms.”
“That’s crazy.” You said and walked inside the bathroom that is linked to your room.
“There even is a bath.” You said.
“Yeah.” Harry said laughing but really, he was quite nervous. He wasn’t nervous during the drive but since you had set foot into his house he couldn’t shake the nervous feeling away. It was like he was scared you weren’t going to like his house or that you would see his house and wouldn’t like him anymore as strange as that sounds.
“How about you get yourself settled and I will make us some dinner.” Harry said, and you nodded.
.
You had been upstairs for an hour now and Harry had just finished dinner. He had made a simple pasta with some chicken and pesto.
“YN, you ready to eat?” Harry yelled from downstairs.
“Coming!” He heard you yell, and Harry grabbed a bottle of wine and poured some in two glasses.
“Sorry, I lost track of time trying to reach Kelly.” You said, and you sat down at the table.
Harry couldn’t help but question why, when he putted the pot of pasta on the table.
You handed him your plate and said, “Just wanted to ask her how Finn was doing.” You said, and he could see the worry in your face.
Harry handed the plate back to you and sat himself down opposite of you.
“Is he still feeling ill?” Harry asked. He can still remember you rushing away from your coffee date, if you could call it that, and him thinking you had a boyfriend named Finn.
“No, he’s fine but I have never really left him before.” You said while you were clearly playing with your food, making it seem like you were eating but really you weren’t.
“I hope you didn’t feel pressured to come here.”
“Oh no, not at all. I do have to admit that I wasn’t going to come but Kelly convinced me into it saying it would be good for me to go out and relax.”
“So, how old is he?” Harry asked, and it seemed to be the right question to ask in that moment because your eyes sparked when you opened your mouth.
“Four years old. God, he is growing up so fast like it seems yesterday that I got home with him from the hospital all tiny and warm.” Harry could see the love for your son immediately and honestly it made his heart warm. He loves kids and is godfather of four, but he couldn’t imagine him with kids at this stage of his life. He is so young and still wants to achieve so much before he can focus on that chapter in his life.
“Must have been a great feeling, bringing your baby home.” Harry said, and he could see you finally taking a bite of your food.
“Harry, you can’t imagine how nervous I was. I was stressing so much. In the hospital I had nurses I could ask for help but the moment I left the hospital it was all me. I had to do it all by myself. I still have a bit of that fear now, the feeling that you aren’t raising them well, the feeling of not being a good parent.” You said, and Harry could see your devotion in your eyes and even though he hadn’t met Finn and doesn’t know how you are as a mother, he knows you are the best parent a child could ask for. The amount of love you talk about Finn is crazy.
Still, there was one question that he was dying to ask, and he didn’t know how you were going to react on it. “Can I ask you a question, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to so just tell me if I am out of line here but what about Finn’s father?”
Harry couldn’t help but hold his breath while looking at you. Honestly, he is a bit scared at your reaction. He doesn’t want you to get upset or anything.
“Oh no it’s fine.” You said, and he was quite surprised at your relaxed behaviour.
“I am surprised that you don’t know already. It was quite the talk of the town.” You said, and Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry. He knew how people in Holmes Chapel could be. It is amazing to grow up in a small town with everybody knowing everybody but one of the downsides is obviously the gossip that goes around.
“Finn’s dad, Damion, was an American transfer student who came to live with his grandma for a year. When I found out that I was pregnant it really wasn’t the best for either of us, both in Uni with dreams and honestly no place for a baby. So, when I told him, he freaked out but once he calmed down, he told me he wasn’t ready to be a dad. I wasn’t ready to be a mother either, so we had decided to give the baby up for adoption. But, having a life grow inside of you for nine months, it does something to a person and I couldn’t do it. Damion told me he would be going back to America as he had planned, I wasn’t really angry at him for it. He was a great support during the whole pregnancy, but I knew from the beginning he wouldn’t be a father. So, Damion left, and I stayed behind. I didn’t really hear a lot of Damion in the first year but on Finn’s first birthday I got a text saying Happy Birthday. I got the same text for his second birthday and by the time his third birthday came around, I got a call. Damion said he was in London and asked if he could come over. I told him that he could but that by visiting and meeting Finn, he also became a part of his life. I didn’t expect from him to have shared custody, but I would want him to visit Finn sometimes and maybe even facetime from time to time. And now we are here. Finn living with me and a father that he facetimes once in a while and maybe sees twice a year in person.”
“Wow.” Was all Harry could say because honestly it was a lot to process, you had to go through so much alone and still you let Damion be a part of Finn’s life, if he were you, he would be so pissed at Damion.
“Yeah, it’s not only you who has had a crazy ride of a life these past years.” You said, and he was happy to see that you were joking again. It seems like he got to get your mind of Finn by talking about Finn.
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szopenhauer · 4 years
Text
If someone has bad breath, do you tell him or her? doubtful, I don’t wanna hurt anyone, it’s awkward and a lot of ppl can’t change how they smell
Do you have an item that comforts you when you are sad/scared? used to have one special object, I still hold it sometimes, I suppose I might again at night from Friday to Saturday 
When are you likely to hide your emotions? when I’m face to face with an authority figure like boss, teacher or doctor, policeman too but I never been in a situation like this with them, I also hide my emotions from abusers at times to not show I’m afraid of them and to not provoke them more as well
Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I guess starvation as it takes longer
Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? it’s their decision to smoke, I don’t approve but I won’t get involved, I can only avoid them
Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? self harm more likely, I mean... I was talking with suicidal people about them wanting to kill themselves but never at the moment when they were doing it so I don’t know if that counts
When you think of tomorrow, what feelings come to mind? packing, last day with my parents before I go to the hospital
What is the last thing you complained about? probably health related issues
What was the last curse-word you said? kurwa
When you fake sick to get out of school, what do you say or do to convince your parents that you are sick? I don’t fake sick, I might exaggerate but I won’t lie, I don’t want to worry my parents and because I’m chronicall ill I often was going to school even though I didn’t felt like it
Do you still talk to your very first best friend? no
When was the last time something went terribly wrong? basically everything goes wrong
How do you console someone when he or she is upset? depends
Choose one: Trip to outerspace, or trip underneath the oceans? no thx
How often do you feel overwhelmed? all the damn time
How do you deal with everyday life? poorly 
Who in your family do you act like the most? my dad
What is the most romantically sweet thing someone has done for you? my gf is doing many sweet things 
Have you ever been confronted by a mall cop for your behavior? I’ve never been confronted by the store guard - elseway I would never go back there out of anxiety
Is there someone that makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells? my mom
Were you ever afraid of one of your past teachers? sorta XD
Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? I was attacked but I didn’t fight back so...
A homeless man asks you for 50 cents; how do you respond? dunno
When was the last time you visited a thrift store? recently
Can you handle constructive criticism? I can’t handle any criticism :(
Who is the most sensitive person that you know? me?...
When was the last time you wrote someone a note? few days ago
Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I always tell
What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? not sure what was last hmm...
Which season do you dread the most? winter
Is there a foreign culture you’d like to learn more about? maybe
Have you ever seen a famous painting and thought “I could have done that?” abstract art
What is the scariest thing about attending your school? which one?
Are you a good judge of other people’s intentions? I got better with time 
Shopping: best with friends, parents, bf/gf, or alone? depends
When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? my mother sometimes asks me to because she has migraines
When you don’t know how to spell a word, do you look it up? not always *ashamed*
Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? nope but I’m the one that often goes to the bathroom 
Do you ever consider the challenges other races go through? sure
When was the last time you doubted your abilities? I have... abilities? :o
What was the last thing you wished for? health... not gonna happen tho :(
How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? several, when I wake up then when I eat and between meals and then when I go to sleep and in the middle of the night if I go to pee
Where do you first remember living? I never moved
First fandom? woah I don’t remember 
First otp/ship? neither
How old were you when you first when on a plane? -
What was your first tattoo?  -
Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? show - She-ra, movie - A lot like love
Did you lose your virginity before you were sixteen? nooo
How many purses do you own? too many lol Are you bi? am not Who was your prom date? I never had one, I didn’t go to prom
Who was the last person to see you cry? parent[s]
Have you ever been used? yep
Do you like when girl takes you by surprise and kisses you? I like consent but... those were the best kisses ^^’’
Have you ever gone for someone despite knowing they were bad for you? I didn’t think about the future nor that I deserve love What kind of gift can win you over? what do you mean by WIN ME OVER? Are diamonds really a girls best friend? not mine, I don’t care for diamonds 
Have you ever dated someone with a child? no way  Have you ever dated someone shorter than you? Sarah was shorter
Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? my parents and my current partner
What sound is annoying you right now? it’s quiet :3
What gives you a peaceful feeling? sleep?
Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country? country
Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user? taker and user I suppose
Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute? early
If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say? the truth
Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for the child to outlive their parent? parent to outlive the child because it’s not common
When do you do your best thinking? evening/night
What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to? majority of decisions are smth I’d prefer not to make
What age do you think it is most difficult to be? to each their own
Do you think you could handle a day in jail? who knows
Have you ever been on a trampoline? I have not
Do you pretend to be something you’re not to make friends? I’m being myself and that’s why I’m friendless :P
Are you more of a shy or outgoing person? I’m introverted antisocial and a loner but I’m not shy, I can be loud and talkative
Are you more of an athlete or artist? artist Are you the type to procrastinate? I put PRO in procrastination  Do you believe that you’ll always be a kid at heart? ;) What is something you want to improve on this year? health, I’m trying  How many times a day do you get angry? uh oh... If you could eat any food you want right now, what would it be? personal Can you sleep with your eyes open? I’m no Gandalf
Do you still have any living grandparents? If so, how old are they? I don’t wanna talk about that
What’s your favorite computer game genre? simulations Do you have any exes your parents never liked? pfft Do you ever keep things just because they might be useful someday? we are hoarders
Are you frequently in a bad mood? sorry... Do you ever fill out surveys while in a bad mood? I go through soooo many moods before I finish one survey  Are you a fast or a slow eater? slowest among my friends, fastest in my house  How old were you when you had your first relationship? no idea what I should call a relationship and what not  Do you get dental checkups at least once a year? yup Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? mom, sister before she moved out Have you ever used chewing tobacco? tha hell? that’s disgusting!
Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? not applicable Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? hat Are you putting off doing something right now? If so, what is it? drying my hair, drinking water and going to sleep mostly
Are you like me and hoard notebooks and pens? pens now, I stopped buying notebooks... oh wait... no... I just got one because I wanted to save bees, nvm... Are you sitting in front of or by a window? What can you see out there? by, it’s dark but there’s my neighbor’s house Are there any coasters on your table? If so, do they have text or pictures? flowers Do you have a song playing in your head right now, too? not really Don’t you hate it when people answer to surveys with one word answers? lame *I realized I did that myself *facepalm* Ever watched a cat or a dog sleep and run/twitch in their sleep? adorable <3 What’s something we do every day but they don’t depict in movies? it bothers me that in fantasy/sci-fi movies there are no toilets and meals are rare
Is your style feminine, masculine or somewhere in the middle? in the middle, childish yet of an old person haha Do you usually carry a backpack, a shoulder bag or something else? shoulder bag or tote  Do you wear glasses? If so, have you ever tried to fix them when they’ve broken? helped my dad fix his glasses couple of times Are there a lot of dragonflies around your house? they don’t show up frequently
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velvyy · 4 years
Text
2020 plans. Why I’m Staying Distant, and What I Might Do Next.
I want to talk about some of the things I’ve kinda kept to myself. During 2019 and 2018, I’ve been in some rather dark places that I hadn’t really opened about in recent time, and I don’t know where else to express how I’ve felt past some very bad sounding, sporadic and rather irreverent tweets making fun of my own situation whilst failing to cope with it meaningfully. If you’re close to me and curious as to why I’m seriously disconnecting myself for a while, you don’t have to read if you don’t want to, especially since you’ve probably listened to enough of what I’ve had to say, to the point where you just can’t say much anymore. It’s fine, and I do know that’s how you felt or used to feel considering someone else told me that. If you do read something that might make you feel upset, then I apologize. I don’t hate anyone or anything, but I have to start being honest with myself, and with you.
Familial Relationships; Romantic Relationships, Lying.
I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to feel about the whole online thing, or the online friendship thing. Not that I don’t appreciate all the friends I’ve made online, I do. And I still think of them as close friends, but I feel grossly disconnected from everyone I do know online, and I feel like I’ve kinda just failed to be a decent person and friend to the people I consider friends on here. On twitter. On discord. Where ever. It isn’t anyone’s fault but mine, but to be honest, I’ve always struggled with this sort of thing even irl. All the irl friends I’ve made don’t even want to talk to me anymore. I’m told that I was only tolerated, and that I was annoying, and too depressing to be around, and it just feels like I’ve learned nothing. I seem to push everyone away from me and I don’t know how to fix it. My grandparents even though I’ve made attempts to reconnect despite my anxiety, still feel indifferent to me in some cases.
To give context, I was kicked out of my grandparent’s house because they felt that me not being involved with the family and being disconnected and angry was the result of me being angered by them and allegedly not loving them. They assumed that I didn’t care about being part of the family even though whatever frustration I had came from them not being able to understand me, and me not being able to understand myself at the time. I didn’t have the maturity necessary for me to express why I felt the way I did, what mental issues I was dealing with, and that I didn’t ask to be this way. However, they assumed that I was just a lazy person. Belittled me for something I didn’t know how to deal with, and then framed it as me choosing to leave instead of what actually happened. I’m supposed to be the bad guy in every context even though I acknowledged my fault, but they and my mother are wholly convinced that I was responsible for every bit of animosity that occurred between us. I’m honestly still angry about that, but I’ve given up on trying to tell my mother about because she just doesn’t care about what I have to say on the matter, even though they are both aware of me dealing with clinical depression. Issue being that to my mother, it’s a matter of just “deciding to be happy” because she’s depressed too, and her experiences are apparently identical to mine even though it isn’t. I love my mother, and I’m coming around to my grandparents, and I know they don’t mean to be malicious, but it feels that way. My experiences online has further perpetuated the urge to just withdraw from making any further attempts to mend severed bonds. For the longest time I was against trying to fix my relationship with my grandparents. I was convinced that I would completely sever ties with them and never talk to them again. Eventually I realized I couldn’t do that because my siblings lived with them, and my mother being really adamant (and quite rude about it) convinced me to at least try. Albeit, my mother expects me to forgive and forget about me getting kicked out (while still telling me I just magically decided to leave with nothing reinforcing that at all mind you) but I’m doing this for me. Not for her approval. I’ve made attempts to talk about this online but I fear I may have misled some people; for the longest time I was dealing with how to really express and come to terms with what happened. Again, I was very angry at the time. 
I’ve also failed with all of my romantic relationships on here too, and I need to learn to be devoid of any romantic feelings in general because it just never works out for me. I’m giving up on it unless there’s a solid and logistic reason for me not to. It seems damaging to just not search for any kind of romantic relationship, but after being in a poly relationship that ended rather poorly, I feel really disillusioned with love and affection. I don’t know how to feel about it, and after my last relationship, I don’t even know if I can trust myself to just not be an awful partner. I say this because my last relationship was a first time experience. It was a poly relationship, and while it was a very happy relationship, one with a lot of happy memories, it was built off the foundation of me getting involved in an already established relationship, and letting the two that did care for me into that relationship out of feeling sorry for me being lonely, and me talking about how I envied their relationship, as well as everyone else in our particular friend server that had a romantic relationship going on. This continued to happen after another previous break up where that particular ex broke up with me because they felt that being so far away from me would’ve made things difficult. I understand that. Yes, they of course did love me, but looking back, that love wasn’t strong enough for a sustaining relationship.
The poly relationship in question ended due to multiple factors. I won’t be using anyone’s names, so I shall be referring to them as Partner 1, and Partner 2. Partner 1 was the one that I had actually interacted with the most. We spoke the most, interacted the most, etc. Over time though, I imagine my constant ravaging about me being lonely, depressed, not knowing what to do creatively and what to do about my family wore him out. It didn’t help that I seemingly neglected to hear what he had felt about his own familial troubles considering something occurred in his life made him feel very troubled. I also believe that he felt that I wasn’t giving him enough affection in the way he wanted. I was busy at my job a lot of the time, had a lot going on personally, and it was stated that he didn’t know what to feel about our relationship anymore since he didn’t feel fulfilled like he wanted to do. Out of frustration and not knowing how to cope with being broken up with again, I idiotically snapped at him, and then I myself broke up with him due to me for some bizarre reason wanting to be the one who cut the ties off instead of the other person. In my mind, I had imagined that if I did it, then that would’ve meant that I held the rope, and that I would’ve been the dominant individual within that context. Clearly I was wrong, and I regretted my mistake. I apologized eventually, but knowing how he felt, I didn’t ask for him back. I only left it up in the air if he ever wanted to try it again. He did leave up in the air too, however we never got back together and is happy with his new partner. I’m glad he’s happier.
Partner 2 was a different story, and bit more brief. Her and I stayed together after Partner 1 and I broke up, but I guess she began to feel disillusioned with our relationship after that whole debacle, and other things going on in her personal life and had other relationships she wanted to attend to as well. She didn’t stay together with me much longer after that situation, and she also broke up with Partner 1 prior. She didn’t want to be part of that relationship anymore, and that’s fine honestly. What’s really damning however is that she never spoke to me, Partner 1, or even any of our friends within the small server we were in, ever again. She’s been gone for well over a year now, and every now and again, she’ll pop as a subject. “Where did she go?” 
“Hope she’s ok.”
That sort of thing. Of course I hoped that she’s safe too. I still do, but I admittedly got frustrated with the fact that she made everyone worry about her so much, without even telling anyone why she decided to just split out of nowhere. I’ve even dm’d her from time and time again to tell her how frustrated I was with her for not wanting anything to do with us, and attributed her disappearing to not wanting to deal with me anymore, despite me expecting her to not respond. My messages were ill-mannered and I feel very bad about those messages. Thing is, now I’m afraid something bad happened to her. It’s not like her for her to just all of a sudden vanish like that and say absolutely nothing. I say that because she’s a Brazilian trans woman. During the time we had broken up, fascistic sentiment was rising within Brazil after their election, in which Jair Bolsonaro would become its new president. A disgusting man with very bigoted views and no concerns for humanity and its needs. A man who goes out of his way to demonize the indigenous population and burn down the Amazon all for profiteering and riling up a racist and homophobic populace. After his election, I recall reading about how anti-gay and anti-trans violence nearly became commonplace, as bigots there felt empowered by Bolsonaro’s blatant anti-queer rhetoric, and the celebration of him wishing his son would die were he a gay man, and I recall asking Partner 2 if she was going to be safe in the midst of all this, even when we were together.
I still have no idea what happened to her. I really hope she’s safe where she’s at. I still wanna talk to her again as a friend. I feel bad about our romantic relationship because we didn’t interact as much as we should have, and she admittedly shared a lot about her life in which I should’ve taken a lot more interest in. That’s of course my fault however. One of the many mistakes I’ll make as you’ll read.
A Nasty Breakdown
There’s also some things I haven’t spoken about even to my friends within this server, but eventually my ex-bf (Partner 1) came to tell me that he was dating someone new because he didn’t want me to try and ask him to be in a relationship again, and as a clarification. Of course I was happy and glad he was seeing someone new, but I was only being partially honest, and lot of emotional baggage got pulled back up again. For a while I got over it, and kind of just coped with acknowledging I’d have to live with my mistakes and that this was karma. I was envious and felt depressed and sad, but it was fine. I deserved to feel this way. I fucked up, and I got to suffer for it. Over time it wouldn’t be so pervasive and I was still able to talk to Partner 1 in a friendly manner even if I felt awkward doing it.
Eventually however, within our private server, he invited his new boyfriend into the server, and I had a mental breakdown. In my mind, his new partner showing up out of the blue symbolized and reminded me of just how incompetent of a partner I was, and served as a reminder that I really didn’t deserve anything even remotely resembling of affection. At least, that’s how I took it mentally. It sounds very melodramatic and honestly disgusting and petty, but that’s how I took it. For a while I kind of just stayed withdrawn but eventually I left the server and put myself as unavailable. That didn’t last long however. Partner 1 eventually messaged me and asked if I had left because of something he did, or something regarding himself or something regarding his new partner. Of course, me being considerate, I said no. I said no because I figured that if I had objected to him being here, I would’ve started drama, and I would’ve become the bad guy since it would’ve looked like me being petty. I say that because as an ex, you’re expected to be fine and dandy and not have baggage what so ever about seeing your ex-partner being with someone clearly more suited and just overall better than you as a partner. I knew what I was feeling was wrong and gross. I knew me feeling those things made me a bad person. So I hid it, and kept it contained, and told absolutely nobody about it. I haven’t even discussed my break up to anyone there. Nobody really knew about it, or asked me about it. We had ended it in private, and nobody even bothered to ask “Wait, weren’t you and partner 1 dating?” It was a silent phenomenon. No one even cared to ask what happened or how I was doing, except partner 1. That is my fault though.Not that it matters now lmao. 
After partner 1 and I had talked about things and me lying to his face, I joined back in the server and my excuse was simply that I was dealing with personal things, and that they didn’t need to worry about anything and it was all good. Again, I was lying. I lied to all of them, and everyone and I feel really sorry about it. I’m typing this part out in particular because I still don’t know how to approach everyone in there about this.They’d be angry with me if I expressed my thoughts regarding the matter. At least I think they would. Surprisingly, Partner 1′s new partner and I had kind of gotten along? Like, we didn’t talk much, but he seemed like a very humble and kind individual, and I have no animosity towards him at all. I still don’t. He’s a nice dude, and a lot more tolerable than I am, and I’m glad Partner 1 has him (I should probably be saying ex-partner 1 now tbh). I admittedly don’t know much about him, and I haven’t taken much time to know him past the occasional discussion about cursed things and anime, and JoJo shit. Everyone else seems to like him well enough, and to be honest, I imagine he’s established a better relationship with everyone else than I have despite knowing everyone for a lesser time.
This sounds like me kind of being envious of this individual but... Well, yes, I am, and talking to him at times feels like a double-edged sword, but I don’t hate him at all. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t feel like he was going to be like... a replacement for me if I were to leave. As awfully petty as that sounds. I still think about what would’ve happened if Partner 1 and I had still tried to mend a severing relationship, but every time I do I just end up crying. Lot of days I cry myself to sleep thinking about how I’ve cursed myself to just being lonely. I’ve settled with the idea that I’m going to die alone, and logistically speaking, it’s probably going to be the case. I hate thinking that but I don’t know how not to think that. I’ve managed to embed that idea in my head and it won’t leave, despite me acknowledging the haunting realism of it. I kind of don’t want to deal with this anymore, and more than once has my envy of seeing other people being in a romantic relationship make me feel conflicted.
Partner 1 and I don’t really talk much anymore. Honestly, I feel that to be the best. Every now and again I’ll ask how he’s doing, send him memes, or whatever, but over time I’ve just felt no desire to talk to him or his current bf anymore because of what it constantly reminds me of. What memories it brings up, and old feelings that I always feel as if they’re gone only for them to rush back, and I’ll feel the need to withdraw AGAIN. This recent holiday season was really bad for me in regards to this. There was cute art a distant mutual of ours had made for the two of them for the holidays,which was posted on twitter, and I saw it, which is ultimately harmless.But I don’t know I just... started crying again. I tried to keep my mind from it and ignore it, and pretend that I didn’t notice it; Try to watch other things. But none of that mattered, and it admittedly crushed me when I know it shouldn’t have, and I feel so disgusting for it. It’s been nearly a year and I still haven’t gotten over it. It’s pathetic honestly, and I’m sorry.
Part of me planning on remaining distant is based on me knowing that I’m emotionally vulnerable near these two. It’s not their fault, but I just... can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t be bothered to constantly mourn over something that was entirely my fault. Being addicted to social media has not helped me in this regard by any means, and being near you has become a genuinely hurtful thing for me. That is the truth. I’m sorry for lying to you. I just really didn’t want to hurt you again.
Social Media; Friendships; Suicide
 I kinda just feel like I need to not bother with social media as much as I have since 2019. Shits gotten me depressed; I need to really reevaluate my life and what I’ve been doing and how to simply interact with other people instead of talking about my issues all the time and serving as an overwhelming mass of negativity. People don’t know how to respond or what to say about how I feel, and I’ve kinda just realized that nobody should have to hear about my problems anymore, and I can’t expect people to give me advice regarding something I cannot fundamentally fix. I just have to cope with my issues and hope I live long enough to matter somehow.
 I’ve left on and off from twitter, saying I’d take a break. I said the same thing about discord too. But honestly, I’m pretty bad at staying away from it. I have a nasty relationship with it. Whenever I feel I’ve managed to stay disconnected for a while I’ll typically peek back at both to see what’s going on, and then I’ll end up being on both way too much and not focusing on what I’ve been wanting to do instead. Twitter I’ve used because of art and wanting to know about current events and keeping up with things, but I realize that the nonsensical faux-activism that pops up on there is seriously exhausting to witness. I’d rather do something in the real world instead or arguing about superficial things like whether or not an artist who did some stupid shit 8 years ago should still be under scrutiny today, like I can’t do anymore. I can’t. I know I should be active and speak my mind but I personally can’t afford to do that over, and over, and over again. Seeing the same nonsense pop up on my dash and seeing new drama pop up every week is exhausting. I’ll leave the managing of that to people with a stronger fortitude of mind.
I’ve attempted suicide more than once over the last two years. Not something I care to speak about, nobody but maybe a few people know about it, but I’m trying not to do it again. Over the last few months I was very tempted to try again now that I was temporarily taking anti-depressants for the time being, and within that time frame I was very close to trying a third attempt. My mom had to stop me from doing anything else. I haven’t been in a good place, and for a while I wasn’t really able to express my grievances with myself, the situation involving my ex, and how him dating someone new and this person kind of coming into the picture within my friend-group out of nowhere; how that hurt me, and how it shaped my friendship with my ex and why I don’t feel comfortable talking to him anymore. Like I said before, it’s petty. I know. What really contributes to me feeling suicidal is often times self-doubt, not feeling important, realizing the world is fundamentally broken, loneliness, being envious of my ex, hating my job, hating where I live, not being able to afford certain goods like medical care and therapy, not knowing how to improve my artwork, seeing other people progress where I flop and stagnate, etc. I have a lot of unfortunate insecurities and issues that to most people are superficial, but at times I’ll often obsess over them to an irrational degree, and often times it’ll bring up suicidal thoughts out of nowhere. I’ve been trying to get help for it, but at the time being I don’t have insurance, and I can’t afford to pay this shit out of pocket. Hopefully one day we’ll have a better medical system in the states that isn’t private.
Social Media is a big contributor to me feeling suicidal a lot of the time. So much drama. So much vitriol. So much of the accountability abuse and cancelling, and so much of the unchecked bigotry I see that fails to be criticized because stans deem cancelling as any and all criticism when the reality is that cancelling is when initial criticisms become attempts to ruin people with attempts of abusing others. There is so much of this on twitter. I see it literally every single day, and it’s such a toxic environment for anyone, especially if you’re mentally ill like me. You see people celebrating bigoted violence against transpeople, see people celebrating people getting robbed, see people being happy about the worst of things and honestly as much as I may have seemed tolerant of it, it made me feel really gross on the inside. Lot of my interactions on twitter especially has made me have suicidal thoughts, but it’s very unfortunate how addicted I’ve become to it. I even have a thing where it shows when I’m unfollowed and who unfollows me. That is how obsessed I’ve become with it. It’s time for me to not use it for a while. I shouldn’t be obsessed with follower counts when I only have maybe like... 230 of them on twitter?
With discord? It isn’t nowhere near as toxic, but it’s bad for me because I often feel left out of things or miss things out of context due to me not being involved enough with the servers I’m in, and when I am involved, it’s only for a short time, but it often takes up a lot of time I could be using for more important and immediate things. Discord also houses essentially everything negative regarding my friendships on there which is something I’ll be getting into. Youtube is something I’m also addicted to. I watch too much artistic content and don’t do enough of it myself. I watch a lot of political content and a lot of it, while insightful, also causes me to burrow further into depression and suicidal thoughts. I’m not saying I’m going to remain uninformed and complacent, but I need to distance myself from it. 
Now about my friendships... I admit, I’ve grown distant already. I’ve been growing distant for a very long time now. I feel like my current friendships, within the server I’ve mentioned prior are beginning to fall apart, and I honestly feel that I can attribute it to me just... not being there. Not being good enough as a friend, not serving as better support, and just often times being there, expecting people to respond to me venting while I’m often silent regarding their issues. I feel as though I also push them away simultaneously due to my attitude towards certain things. I’ve also gotten into arguments and kerfuffles with my friends there to points where I’d be called out by it and told to apologize even though at times I feel as though I’d done nothing wrong, and was also in a vulnerable place. My friendships with everyone in my private friend circle is shaky, and I want to distance myself from them in order to reevaluate how to interact with them instead of just going along with the wind and expecting things to get better on their own. A lot of subtle animosity I notice I feel as though can be attributed to me since I’m the most likely to cause a disturbance in our respective server. There was an incident where I wasn’t particularly careful when a person in our server was having a breakdown over a particularly morbid subject, and I was scolded for telling this person to calm down. While it came from a respectful place, I acknowledge that my judgement was flimsy and that I just... shouldn’t put in my input at all, and I acknowledge that I shouldn’t vent to them anymore due to them growing tired of it. I also acknowledge that I should no longer discuss politics, as I feel that it’s begun to fuel a divide between me and my more shall I say, “less radical” friends of mine.(For context I’m a libertarian socialist) I care about them, and I would prefer not to lose that friendship. I apologize for venting about suicide when you were never ready to deal with that. I apologize for the political talk. I apologize for putting all of my burdens onto you. I apologize for venting for the very last time. I imagine I might’ve alienated others within our group too, and I’m sorry about that too.
Regarding suicide, I’ve attempted it twice so far. Both attempts were me trying to overdose on anti-depressants. The first time didn’t do much of anything, and the second time left me very sick. I had to go to the hospital. I was vomiting and had a very bad headache, and had other symptoms that left me in a very bad shape. It took me a while to recover from. I was supposed to see a therapist after everything, but I couldn’t afford it anymore, and I couldn’t afford the anti-depressants I was taking at the time.
Interestingly enough, and more of a side note, really; I’ve become a bit disillusioned with the furry fandom. Too much “he said, she said, they said, that they did this awful and cancellable thing.” I’m also tired of people in the fandom outright ignoring racism in the fandom but then having a double standard for homophobia. I’m also a bit tired of the repeated art policing of things that aren’t involving depictions of children. I’m tired of the reactionary bullshit, and the excusing of zoophilia and pedophilia. I’m tired of the e-celeb worship and stanning of particular fursuiters, and the complacency of popular furries in the fandom merely because they want to uphold a “positive image”. I’m also tired of out of place horny-posting, and the lack of respect trans people get in the fandom, especially when they’re depicted in nsfw art and deemed a “dickgirl” or a “cuntboy”. Tired of hearing stories about sexual harassment, and zoophiles being exposed, and other awful, awful things that occur at cons, and I am so fucking tired of hot takes regarding HIV testing and why that’s somehow A BAD THING. I am especially tired of these stupid ass “animation meme critics” or people like PKRussl not getting the scrutiny they deserve after slandering people for things they didn’t even have a part in. Tired of the commentary community too. Tired of the “Oh they can’t take criticism” shit but then not applying the same standards to themselves. I am fucking tired of it. I’m tired of hearing about Hazbin Hotel and how bad it is, or how perfect it is; Tired of people saying how bad Viv is or how absolutely perfect she is and how she’s safe from criticism.
My Home Life; Unemployment and my Grandfather James
I don’t really know how to start off with this because this is even more personal then some of the previous things I’ve mentioned, but I feel it needs to be said.
So. After I was kicked out of my grandparent’s house, I moved into my grandfather’s house on my mother’s side. We’ll call him “James” for now. 
So a bit of context:
My grandfather is from what me, my mother, and my aunt can tell, horridly mentally ill. He’s quite religious; A disfellowshipped Jehovah’s Witness actually. He is convinced that he is a new prophet of God, and his beliefs are actually quite specific... and specific to him alone. I say this because other Jehovah’s Witnesses seem to believe he’s crazy due to him feeling as though that anything that inconveniences  him is a result of his enemies from the government, and the church, and the devil, trying to sabotage his life, and the lives of those who are important to him. He has made a scene out of spouting about his beliefs and calling out other people for what he assumes are his enemies, or associated with his “enemies” in public, and it gets in the way of his own life, and my life. Now obviously, he does not have enemies.My mother and I tell him this, and he does not listen. I live with this man, and he is also VERY deeply homophobic, and he does not know that I am queer. He has constantly gone on rants about how much he “hates the homosexuals because god did not create them, and it goes against nature” and this is very, deeply, uncomfortable for me. For obvious reasons of course, he has made me feel very endangered and quite frankly scared for my life. I’ve had to remain very quiet about who I am due to me not wanting him to find out, even though I’ve debated him on the subject various times, and have expressed disdain for his disgusting beliefs. I haven’t felt safe around him for a long time, and him being ill doesn’t stop at his rather barbaric beliefs.
He is also a very negative person, and reinforces a lot of negative thoughts I have regarding myself.He is all around a toxic individual to be around, and his presence has been incredibly detrimental to my mental health, and his complacency has also made me physically ill too. 
He is also quite the hoarder. When I moved into this home I am currently residing in, I came in and was sick the first week due to mold residing on certain parts of the wall, trash being stacked on top of eachother, and the same with pizza boxes and other things in the kitchen. There were also rats running around the home as well, and have on multiple instances taken my belongings and even ran across me as I was sleeping. There is no room available for me. I sleep in the living room (which is much more clean than the rest of the house, but could still be tidied up), and I used to sleep on an inflatable mattress due to not having a bed frame, or... bed. (I do now) and much of the things in the living were things I had to clean up. The tiling on the floor were torn up from the ground, with the dining room, housing the most hoarded material. The walls in the kitchen have no support and is rotting, and one of the bathrooms does not have a working shower. Instead it serves as another place for this man to hoard things, and the sink in this room is deteriorating as well. He has only replaced the sink faucet due to there be a very pervasive leak. He has not replaced the entire sink yet, and this bathroom itself in the past has had trash in it that has remained piled up, only till I pressured my aunt to help me clean the mess in there. Any and all attempts to get James to help me clean this home has resulted in him getting irritated and then complaining about people bothering him. He has not made any real attempts to clean or restore his house. There are literal plant life and vines growing inside the wall of the home kitchen, and inside the bathroom where that shower works. Despite we having a working shower, this shower resides in the bathroom, inside his room. When we have to take showers, we have to tread through his room where the hoarding is arguably the absolute worst. The bathroom? Oh god. The bathroom walls are rotting and has mold, and the shower wall itself is effectively gone with the exception of the wooden surrounding that serves as the only thing that separates the shower, and the literal yard. There is plant life also growing inside this shower. There is also no AC, No heat, and no water heater. So during the winter whenever we need to take a shower, we take cold ass showers when the cold air seeps in through the exposed parts of the shower wall. We have to use half-functional fans for cool air, and broken heaters for warmth during the winter time.
Yes, it is that bad. And I have lived in this house for more than two years. My mother and I are going to be moving out in 2020. We cannot deal with this anymore, and it has effected both of us in varying negative ways. The environment I’ve been in has reinforced a lot of issues I had already been dealing with, and I only really attempted to kill myself once I was in this shit show of a home. I have tried to restore some things and decency in this home, but my grandfather does not want to help, and I have given up on trying. I will be leaving this home in its disgusting state, and I will not offer my grandfather help with this shit ever again.
Regarding employment, and being unemployed... I received my first job when I moved out, at McDonald’s. I was there for approximately 5 to 6 months. The time I was there wasn’t too bad, however I had dealt with some in-job drama and witnessed a lot of it, and lot of it being very immature nonsense which of course further reinforced some of my depressive tendencies. I would eventually leave the company after being harassed by my manager for something that wasn’t my fault, being called varying racist things during my time there, and also dealing with the loss of a loved one at the time. I was unemployed for nearly an entire year, and during that time I was dealing with many things regarding depression, and my depression had seemingly continued to get worse, and worse, and worse. It was not a good time, and I was repeatedly scolded for not having a job until I received a job at Steak n’ Shake which provided me with no benefits, no insurance, nothing. The experience there was more or less the same, however I did form some connections with my coworkers, although I’d still from time to time clash heads with customers, and a person that had previously worked with me, and someone I thought I’d known well, died from overdosing on drugs. So, yeah... Wasn’t the best of time, and I’d end up losing my job due to the store having to close down due to it allegedly not making the necessary profits. I didn’t have a back up plan for it or anything, and so I was once again unemployed for a while which didn’t help my sense of confidence at all. By the time I asked if they were looking for anyone else at the other stores, I was declined from taking any offers. For the longest time I had no funds or anything to keep myself fed, and to keep my phone functioning, and so I was dependent on my mother to pay for both of those things. Only recently did I become employed again at a cheesecake factory (not that cheesecake factory) and only now am I back on track to saving money again to afford small things for whenever my mother and I move out. We’d already reached our financial goal for the new home, but we wanted to save up more just in case, and we couldn’t move out without me having a job, so our move out was delayed. We are not finally back on track, and we might be moving out sooner than we expected. 
A lot of the struggles regarding moving out, me being jobless, dealing with on the job stress, losing people I care about, and a very awful grandparent has contributed to many of the other issues regarding my mental health, how I’ve interacted with other people I care about as well. Many of the things I’ve mentioned seemingly have intersected with each other, and it has taken me a long time to realize just how unhappy and unstable I’ve been.
2020 and what I’m going to be doing
Now that it’s the new year, there’s going to be some changes to my life that I really need to put into motion. I need to really focus on myself, and I need to reevaluate myself and what I’m going to be doing from here on out. I will be remaining distant, and honestly, I may not even interact with anyone with the exception of maybe one person if I feel that it is necessary. As for how long? Maybe a few months at least. Maybe even more of that. The plan is to stay quiet up until I move out of the hellhole I live in, but I don’t know. I really do need to figure out this whole friendship and interactivity thing on my own as well, and do what I can to change my attitude and the way I think about myself. I’ve been a burden to people close to me, and being around my ex constantly is still something I really need to get over. I can’t just cut him out of my life. That is unacceptable, and I don’t want to lose close friends of mine. I will be staying off of social media for the most part. No twitter. No discord. No tumblr especially, and I’m going to try to stray away from Youtube as well. My twitter is deactivated for now. My discord is disabled for now. My tumblr I guess will stay open but I won’t be using it.
I will eventually be seeing a therapist when I can manage it, and I will be needing to change my eating habits and diet as well in order to promote a healthier lifestyle within myself, and hopefully reinforce more positive elements and a positive mindset. I will definitely be focusing on developing my art far more than I have been due to me slacking for a long, long time now, and I will also be dedicating more time to my job and preparing myself for moving out. I would also like to lose some weight, and if I can expand my expectations for one second, perhaps join a union or something like the IWW. For all this to happen, I need to critically distance myself for a while. I’m sorry if this annoys you, and I’ll be back eventually. I need to improve my life, and improve my situation, and I need to work on my craft and mental stability. Otherwise, I don’t know if I can keep myself from making another attempt on my life, and I don’t know if I can keep myself from hurting anyone else I care about.
Right now, I need some time on my own. I hope you understand. If you’re someone I know personally and you want to ask me questions, please feel free to dm me here, but I won’t be available to message after a certain period of time. If I mentioned you here and you read this far, then just know I am not mad at you or angry at you. If you’ve read all this, thank you. If you’re upset with me, then I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for keeping so much of this from you
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srnokedmirrors · 4 years
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* . day to night , dark to light     fall the  s a n d s  o f  t i m e .
                         { ross lynch, twenty-one, trans male, he/him } Have you seen ZELD CYELN “CIEL” NOHANSEN walking around?  Little do they know, they’re the child of LINK & PRINCESS ZELDA from THE LEGEND OF ZELDA, and they HAVE TWO SIBLINGS ( one older, one younger ) .  I guess that explains why they’re so CHARMING & ARTISTIC and GUARDED & INSECURE.  They are a STREAMER. — penned by eve.
FIRST THINGS FIRST.
Hello hello again , folks !! It’s EVE and if you thought I went completely feral about Resident Evil earlier you are . . . sorely mistaken because now we are in Zelda territory and Zelda encompasses literally every fiber of my being. This OC is my most beloved ( despite the fact he’s an absolute prick ) and I have been itching to write him as a next-gen of Zelink , so VOILA , but just a few things !!
I love The Legend of Zelda . . . a lot. That’s the first thing. And my friends call me the Zelda lorekeeper since I know pretty much everything about the games like that back of my hand.
Another - as it’s always been a fact about his character , Ciel here is diagnosed with Type II Bipolar. Now , I want to clarify that I also am the same , and he was originally written as a comfort character to sorta see myself in a character I wrote ( and he became his own dude over the years. ) It’s not something that’ll pop up often , but I just wanted to let y’all know since I’m not gonna erase my own rep , I write from experience since I’m the same. 
TWS AHEAD : Manipulation , mental illness
I. THE PAST - DO YOU REMEMBER ??
The second of The Hero & The Princess - Prince Zeld Cyeln Nohansen , carrying on the traditional naming conventions to keep the name Zelda in the family with obvious corruptions. Your older brother could not - and AS WELL , you are the only child in the family that possesses the holy powers of the royal bloodline that your mother carries , as shown by the brand of the Triforce on the back of your right hand. And immediately , expectations are thrust upon your shoulders before you can even walk.
It’s because of your power that you , instead of the eldest , are to succeed the throne as the next king of Hyrule once you become of age , and although your mother vows to not treat you the same as your father treat her , she often reminds you that the beautiful , sunlight-bathed kingdom will be yours. 
So you grow. You grow & you adapt to the life of royalty , the CROWN PRINCE , and your relationship with your parents is better than most. While you’re significantly closer to your mother than your father , spending your days in the library with her & learning how to paint her visage , you also follow your father out to scope the kingdom on horseback. You grow up kind & gentle , the intelligence of your mother but the softness of your father , and it is well-known throughout the kingdom that you are DESTINED for good things.
It’s when you’re fourteen years old that you meet a boy.
A boy your age , a boy who smiles at you and you get fairies fluttering in your stomach. A boy who tells you that you’re pretty and by Nayru are you getting your first crush ?? 
Hm.
But you can’t see through the lies - that even though you’re young , manipulation knows no age and you are heartbroken to find that this boy leads you to a group of bandits that go on the attack and aim to STEAL the raw power you carry. After you’re tricked into bringing magical artifacts to their clutches , that is , that your family has gathered over the years - the goddess harp , the ocarina of time , and the cursed , wicked Majora’s Mask.
Your father sweeps into rescue you , and although you feel guilty , you aren’t berated for your mistakes. He only wants to know what happened , and if you’re alright , and you’re a sobbing mess but you tell your parents everything and they recognize that the evil forces that plagued them are NOW targeting their offspring. 
You are only fourteen. But the betrayal turns you cold , and you close yourself off , now hesitant to trust. And you learn that there are DANGEROUS forces out there who want to hurt & use you in the same way , hence why you use your mother’s old study connected to her old bedroom ( now currently yours ) and you begin to research , research , research. You look back on the legends of old , and start practicing the magic of not only your bloodline , but the taboo power of shadow - such as that of the TWILI , a project aiming to recreate the mirror. You also use the mask , hoping to tap into the wicked power it carries to turn it around. You train with the Sheikah , as Sheikah blood runs in your veins as well , to master the art of using the shadows & the unseen to your advantage. You become a teenager devoted to your work - a mad scientist & magician , and the whispers of a ‘ mad alchemist prince ’ sweep throughout the kingdom due to the rumors you can stay awake for DAYS working on one thing , before crashing and moving onto the next. 
But there is still pain - a loneliness & a hurt which you try to bury deep down , but it’ll still consume you to the point where you don’t know how to think clearly. You try and mask yourself best you can , but there is still a little boy , deep down , who only wishes to be loved and cared for and cherished by people his own age. Your work is your comfort but you are also learning to sink yourself in it to the point where it’s becoming a hindrance. 
One day , maybe , you’ll get what you want - and everything will be okay. But the world is currently at your throat , so . . . how long will that be ??
Your sixteenth year changes everything. The Crown Prince goes missing , and he is lost without the comfort of his parents.
And he awakens in another day , as a new being , with only his wit & his charm to carry on.
II. PRESENT - WHO ARE YOU , YOURSELF ??
Okay so IN A NUTSHELL Ciel is the crown prince of Hyrule due to the fact he’s essentially the ‘Zelda’ of his generation - the only child that carries the sacred power of the goddess Hylia , and this kid is incredibly smart and artistic but due to being manipulated by dark forces when he was young , he’s EXTREMELY insecure and lacks trust , instead trying to become as powerful as possible by any means possible so he isn’t hurt again since now he’s a target like his parents were.
HIS CHARACTER . . . is incredibly complex. It doesn’t change much with or without memories because even though he hasn’t experienced that same shit , those trust issues & insecurities are still well-embedded into him. The main difference is that he’s still smart , but not because of excessive research on Hyrulean magic & history & technology.
ON THE SURFACE , Ciel appears to be honestly very exuberant , quick-talking , and , to some , annoying. He’s a bit of a loudmouth , he seems harmless in the aspect that he isn’t downright mean or anything , he’s just . . . a nuisance. Charming in the aspect that he knows how to talk his way out of any situation since he has a MOUTH on him , but he knows how to use it. He overshares , it seems , but in turn , he’s actually not revealing anything about himself of any importance. He’s just keeping his cards to his chest but he doesn’t anyone to see so , so he places counterfeit cards on the table.
Ciel is always one step ahead , and the best way to be is to convince everyone else that you’re far behind. 
NOW ON THE INSIDE . . . Ciel is extremely caring & gentle. He cares a lot about the people he loves , but he’s hesitant to open up or trust other people given the fact he doesn’t want to be hurt , and he doesn’t want to make mistakes. He’s very observant & again , incredibly intelligent , knowing well how to read the atmosphere and pick out things that most don’t notice. He is insecure in the fact that he constantly thinks horribly of himself , and although he’s great at hiding it , it’s easy to get his feelings hurt. He hates that he has to keep on a mask since it makes him easily unlikable , but he thinks it’s the only way to stave off the most damage. But he’s a good kid & has a heart of gold , it’s just that . . . his heart has a few booboos on it. He CRAVES love & validation & affection but he’s afraid to ask for it or to take it since he’s gone down worse roads before by opening up to the wrong people.
He’s an artist - very talented in drawing & painting !! His apartment is littered with sketches & drawings and supplies and he would’ve gone to art school but money is tight and he doesn’t know he’s a prince in his actual reality so . . . yeah.
But his day job is that he’s a VERY popular video game streamer named Alchemyst , mainly doing let’s plays of adventure games & stuff with friends to get a good laugh. He also has a tendency to go on hilarious rants in a lot of his videos , resulting in MANY fanmade compilations & memes. He’s got a dedicated fanbase that he openly adores , and streaming also sorta helps him since he is a bit afraid of going into the outside world slightly. 
It’s funny , because as a streamer , he isn’t at all obnoxious or annoying - it’s the closest he gets to acting like himself , even if he has to act a little more EXTROVERTED than he actually is. 
THAT’S THE BASIS again , much more of a show than tell character but . . . Love him. I love him.
I DON’T have much ideas for wanted connections at this point aside from like . . . friends , exes , crushes , enemies , fans of his stream , etc. When I get more of a braincell I’ll put specific stuff down , but if it HELPS his fake life is shrouded in mystery bc Ciel doesn’t like talking about it ( aka , his fake past was p bad so he just prefers to act like he came out of fucking nowhere. )
But that’s it !! I’ll b responding to starters & calls soooon ~ ! I am ALL for plotting if u guys want , so just hit me up on here or Discord n I’ll respond as soon as I can !!
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flightfoot · 5 years
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A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 4
Percy’s POV
We caught the subway to the Empire State Building.
I know, I know. We could’ve just walked, it wasn’t THAT far. But none of us felt like hauling an upset metal bird around farther than we had to. Plus, while I felt great (that rain did wonders for my energy), and Grover and Meg looked reasonably energetic, Apollo was BEAT. He’d been so excited about the new clothes he’d crafted... and had crashed a few minutes later. I’d thought I’d have to carry him to the subway, which would’ve been hard since I was already carrying the birdcage. I guess summoning all those things took a lot out of him.
Some other passengers looked at us disapprovingly as we hauled our bird cage around. I guess they didn’t like how rough we were being with our ‘pet’, but after what the Celedon had put us through, I REALLY didn’t care.
Apollo collapsed on a nearby seat, breathing hard. He didn’t look sleepy at least, just exhausted.
Was all of this tiredness just from playing the lyre?
Then again, I didn’t know what he’d been doing BEFORE he materialized in the park...
Now seemed as good a time as any to find out.
“Hey Apollo?”
He looked up at me wearily. “Yeah?”
“How DID you wind up time traveling anyways?”
He let out a long sigh. “Meg and I were looking through Tarquin’s Tomb-”
“Who’s Tarquin?”
“The last Roman Emperor. He was SO bad, he was overthrown and the Roman Republic was instated.”
Apollo continued, “Anyways, we were looking through his tomb for the Sibylline books, which contain a lot of ancient prophecies. I always thought they’d been burned, but apparently not. At least, not all of them. We didn’t really know where to look, so Meg and I just kinda wandered around trying not to die.”
I nodded sagely. “Always the best plan. Dying sucks. No blue food in Elysium.”
Ok, so I didn’t actually know whether that last one was true. But considering how happy the dead were with simple Happy Meals, I figured that they didn’t have very good food down there.
Apollo laughed, a bit more life returning to his face. I grinned back at him. Was this really the same person who’d proclaimed that heroes were for running the god’s errands? He just seemed like another kid, like another demigod, fighting beside us and trying not to let anyone he cared about die, or die himself.
I still didn’t get how a god could change so drastically, but maybe... maybe they really weren’t that different?
This kind, dorky teen... maybe this side of Apollo was hidden away in the present Apollo too.
I hoped so.
Apollo chuckled, “Well, I don’t know about THAT, but I agree about dying. Pretty sure my sister would charge into the Underworld herself, drag me back, then kill me again for dying on her.”
Yes, that did sound like Artemis.
“ANYWAY, getting back on track here, we searched the tomb for awhile with no success.”
“Unless you call ‘getting chased by your nose moss’ a success,” Meg cut in.
“Eurynomos,” Apollo corrected.
“Whatever.”
“So I asked my magic prophetic arrow where I needed to go-”
I knew I shouldn’t interrupt, but I HAD to ask. “Magic prophetic arrow?”
“The Arrow of Dodona. It talks in a fake Shakespearean accent and insults me constantly. It’s quite annoying. Plus I’m the only one who can hear it, so I look like a crazy person when I consult it.”
Well, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of. Heck, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of TODAY.
“The arrow told me to go to a particular room and find a cloth woven from Fate’s threads. We searched around for awhile and found it tucked away in a chest. Then SOMEONE-” Apollo glared at Meg, who looked back, completely unperturbed, “-thought it was a brilliant idea to grab hold of something woven by the Fates themselves. I grabbed onto Meg, we vanished, then fell onto the ground with a bad case of motion sickness. And, well, you know the rest.”
I frowned. “Do you know how to get back to your time? WHETHER you can get back?”
Apollo closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. “I- I hope we can get back. No, we MUST get back. Our friends need us! I have to believe that the Arrow set us on this path for a reason.”
“Wow, you have a lot of faith in that Arrow,” I observed.
Apollo laughed wryly. “Nope. But if I allow myself to believe that we’ll never get home and that all our friends and family will die, I’m going to panic.”
Oh. Fair enough.
I decided to change subjects.
“So anything you can tell me about what’s gonna happen? Anything that will help?”
Apollo was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke.
“First of all, you should know that I’m only from two years into the future. It’s going to be a BUSY two years. And I don’t remember that much. I wasn’t paying much attention to the world around me all of the time. Also, shoving four thousand years of memories into a mortal brain REALLY doesn’t work well. I’ve forgotten a lot, and what I DO remember isn’t always useful. But I’ll try to help.”
“Typhon was freed, and we gods left to fight him - well most of us, anyway. We didn’t succeed against him until Poseidon joined the fight.”
Apollo looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe that you were the one to convince him to intervene. I don’t remember how you persuaded him, unfortunately.”
He continued while I mulled that over, “Typhon was a distraction. While he kept us gods busy, you demigods defended Mount Olympus from Kronos’s forces.” 
He frowned, looking at me, “I don’t remember a lot of details, but I remember this much: the fight started a few days before your birthday, and ended ON your birthday. You’re the child who reached sixteen, but NOT the Hero of the Prophecy. LUKE was the hero. He chose to save Olympus at the last second.”
Wait, what? “Uh, Apollo, you realize that I’ve never actually heard the full prophecy, right?”
He blinked.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You should probably learn it then. If I remember right, it goes:
A half-blood of the Eldest gods
Shall reach sixteen, against all odds.
And see the world in endless sleep.
Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.
A single choice shall end his days,
Olympus to preserve or raze.
Well that didn’t sound great. Then again, prophecies rarely did. 
I pressed Apollo for details, wanting every bit of foreknowledge I could get. “What choice did Luke make? What endless sleep? What’s the cursed blade?”
Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry Percy. I don’t remember.”
Looking at his mournful face, I believed him.
“So what else CAN you tell me?”
He hesitated for a moment. Carefully, he asked, “Percy? Do you remember how I mentioned Thalia’s brother?”
I nodded. How could I forget?
“Well, the reason he and Thalia were separated, the reason she was led to believe he was dead... is because he’s ROMAN, not Greek.”
What?
The confusion must have been clear on my face. Apollo elaborated, “We gods change to fit the culture we’re in. The longer and deeper the impact of that culture on us and the more different that image is, the more we differ. For most of us gods we default to Greek as our sort of ‘base’ form, but we have Roman forms as well who can look act differently. We sometimes have kids while we’re in Roman form. Those kids don’t go to Camp Half-Blood. Instead they travel to the Wolf House, where Lupa decides whether they’re strong enough to train. If she accepts them, then she’ll train them off and send them towards Camp Jupiter. If not... well... let’s just say that Lupa isn’t kind to the weak. And she doesn’t mind the taste of demigod flesh.”
I felt slightly ill. “How many does she... erm... usually fail?”
Apollo thought for a moment. “You know, I can’t actually remember her failing anyone in recent decades. I wasn’t paying much attention to Camp Jupiter though, so I can’t say for sure.”
Well that was comforting.
“Anyway, Hera was FURIOUS when Jason was born. Bad enough Zeus cheated on her with that mortal, but to then go back a few years later and have ANOTHER child with the same woman? He went too far. Jupiter, Zeus’s Roman form, gave Hera - or rather Juno - Jason’s life, even naming him after her favorite mortal as an attempt to appease her. Because naming one of his kids in her honor went SO WELL with Heracles. Luckily she took a liking to Jason. By ‘taking a liking’ I mean that she told his mother to hand him over to the wolves when he was two years old. Both she and Thalia assumed the wolves had killed him. No one corrected them. Greek and Roman demigods were supposed to be kept separate.
“But why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we be stronger together?”
He tilted his head towards me, giving me a small smile. “Indeed you would be - if you could stop fighting.”
I frowned. “Why would we fight each other?”
“Greeks and Romans have a long-standing grudge against each other,” Apollo explained. “It didn’t help that some gods and goddesses did NOT take the Greek-to-Roman transition well. Most notably Athena.”
Annabeth’s mom?
I leaned forwards slightly. Annabeth would DEFINITELY want to know about this, if she didn’t already. “What happened to Athena?”
“The Romans stripped her of her status as a war goddess, reduced her to a goddess of crafts and wisdom, and stole her most sacred statue. They tried to break Greece’s spirit by stealing the Athena Parthenos. They succeeded, but they made a powerful enemy. Athena has NEVER forgiven the Romans for disrespecting her like that. She’s pushed the two sides to fight ever since, hoping that the Greeks would crush the Romans. There’s already a natural animosity between the two sides, it doesn’t take much of a push to get them fighting. After the Civil War, which had Greeks and Romans fighting and killing each other, we gods decided to interfere to stop our children from murdering each other. Athena disapproved of course, but she was outvoted. We increased the level of Mist around your groups, erasing all memories of the others existence from your minds. We kept an eye on any quests where you guy were likely to pass close by, increasing the Mist whenever you almost stumbled across each other. It worked! ... For a while.”
“What changed?”
Apollo grimaced. “Great-grandma started waking up.”
“Who?”
Apollo shook his head. “I don’t want to say her name. Best not to attract her attention. Ask Annabeth. She should know.”
I filed that info away for later. “What’s so terrible about your great-grandmother waking up?”
“She wants to destroy all of humanity and all the Olympian gods. She actually had some kids, the Giants, who she made for the sole purpose of destroying each of the Olympians.”
“She had kids JUST to use as an army?”
“Yep.”
“That’s messed up.”
“I’m not going to disagree with that.”
“Anything special about these Giants? Are they just like the Titans, but bigger?”
Apollo looked pained and... guilty? “It’s worse than that. The Giants can’t be defeated by a mortal or a god working alone. They can only be killed by a god and a mortal working together.”
My heart sank. “So the gods obviously teamed up with all of us demigods and helped us send them packing, right?”
“Well...” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “You see... Father thought that maybe if we gods holed up and didn’t interact with the mortal world, that great-grandma might settle down. She didn’t.”
“Gods disobey Z- your father all the time, though! They helped, right?”
“I... guess so?”
“You guess?”
“I was kinda hiding for most of the war, so I was out of the loop.”
I frowned. “Why were you hiding? Shouldn’t you have been helping fight the Giants?”
Now he REALLY looked ashamed. “I... may have had a role in making things more difficult. Unintentionally, of course.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. “One of the Campers at Camp Jupiter was a descendant of mine named Octavian. He told me that he’d make Rome strong, like it was back in the old days. That he’d make sure I was honored as one of the most important gods, above even Zeus! I liked the sound of that. I gave him my blessing. I ignored his hatred of the Greeks and his growing instability. He told me what I wanted to hear, so I ignored the warning signs.”
Apollo avoided my eyes, but kept on talking. “When Camp Half-Blood sent an envoy to Camp Jupiter, it looked like things would go well... at first. Then an Eidolon, a spirit, possessed one of the Greek demigods and forced him to fire on the Camp. The Romans assumed that the diplomatic envoy was a trick and promptly declared war on the Greeks. Luckily they didn’t know exactly where Camp Half-blood was. All of the Seven had to get out of there in a hurry.”
I frowned. “The Seven?”
Apollo blinked. “Oh yeah. You guys don’t have that prophecy yet. It went like this:
Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,
To storm or fire, the world must fall,
An oath to keep with a final breath,
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death
“The ‘world falling’ sounds pretty bad,” I observed.
Apollo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, actually. This is one of those cases where the prophecy is PURPOSELY deceptive. ‘The world’ is great-grandma, it’s foretelling her defeat. As for the Seven, they are you, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang, Hazel Lavesque, and Jason Grace. Frank, Hazel, and Jason are Roman.”
I wasn’t thrilled about being part of ANOTHER prophecy, but at least I’d survive past sixteen. 
Apollo continued his story. “We gods are reflections of the culture we come from. When our two groups of children started fighting, the Greek and Roman sides of ourselves started fighting too. Gave most of us SPLITTING headaches, incapacitating us. Well, except for those of us who were either exclusively Greek or Roman, or who were pretty much the same in both forms. So most of us couldn’t help even if we wanted to. But I had an additional problem.”
Apollo stared at his feet. “One of the Praetors, Reyna, was pretty reasonable. She tried to rein in the Legion. But then she had to leave, and OCTAVIAN took control of the Legion. He took my blessing as a sign that whatever he had planned had my full support. He thought that the best way to ‘solve’ the gods’ headache problem and ‘save’ New Rome, was to wipe out the Greeks entirely. Father blamed me for Octavian’s poor decision, and decided to blame me for basically the entire war.”
He smiled bitterly. “I think he just wanted to scapegoat someone, pin the blame on anyone who wasn’t him. Him sticking his head in the sand had made things way more difficult than they needed to be, and he didn’t want to look weak or stupid. Not after the embarrassment of the Second Titan War. He was SO angry with me. But he couldn’t harm me on Delos, mine and Artemis’s birthplace. Being on Delos also protected Artemis and I from the incapacitating headaches. We sat out the whole war there, until the Greeks and Romans made up. That united us gods’ essences, allowing us to FINALLY recover enough to fight back. All of us gods rushed in to fight off the Giants with you Seven, defeating them easily. Then Father called me forwards, blamed me for the war, and sent me to Olympus. I can’t remember anything else until six months later, when I awoke, mortal, hurtling out of the sky, and landed in a dumpster.”
I winced. Sounded like gods weren’t necessarily any more caring towards their divine children than their demigod ones. 
Apollo’s voice cracked, self-loathing seeping in. “I discovered just how BLIND we gods had been! Some Roman Emperors managed to make themselves immortal. They’ve been plotting their takeover for MILLENNIA. They helped fund Kronos’s army and Octavian’s attack on Camp Half-blood. They’ve been kidnapping young demigods and raising them to serve in their army.”
The subway started to slow down. “What do I need to know?” I asked hurriedly. I had a nagging sensation that I wouldn’t get to talk to Apollo much longer after this.
Evidently Apollo felt the same way, as he spoke hurriedly while the four of us (plus the bird) departed the subway and headed towards our rendevous with the current Apollo.
“If campers start to go missing a few months after the Second Giant War ends, it’s probably due to the Grove of Dodona regrowing itself in Camp Half-blood and calling for help. Nero tries to burn the grove and attacks Camp Half-Blood with the Colossus Nero. The Cave of Trophonious is in Indianapolis. Georgina was being held prisoner by Commodus. If that happens in this timeline as well, you’ll need to break into Commodus’s palace to rescue her. She also might be my daughter, not sure on that one. And- and then there’s-”
His voice cracked, ”There’s Caligula. His forces attacked Camp Jupiter shortly after I consulted Trophonious. Leo flew away to warn them. Meanwhile, Meg, Grover, and I left to rescue Herophile, another one of my Oracles, who Caligula had locked up. But we needed to retrieve his sandals in order to navigate the Labyrinth - that’s where she was being kept, yes it came back, no, I don’t know how. That’s when everything went wrong.”
A small sob escaped Apollo’s throat. “Jason, he- he’d gotten a prophecy MONTHS ago, saying that we’d only succeed if he and Piper came with Meg and I on our quest, but that either he or Piper would die. He decided right then that it WOULDN’T be Piper. He fought off Caligula long enough for us to get away, but died in the process. Crest - he’s a Pandos - he helped us get away. He helped us the next day too. He held off Medea, stopped her from destroying me, at the cost of his own life. We would’ve been finished if not for-”
Apollo startled, wide-eyed. “The Silver Wives! The Meliai! If we had just waited until they’d woken up, Crest would still be alive!”
He grabbed me urgently. “Percy. There are several special seeds that Meg’s family had been working on for MILLENNIA. They’re at her childhood home, Aeithales. Meg MUST be the one to plant them. Only she can make them grow. Wait to attack until those dryads are awake if possible. They’ll be invaluable.”
I nodded. “I will.”
Apollo let out a breath of relief and let go. 
The four of us rounded the corner. I saw the god Apollo pacing around by the Empire State Building, waiting for us. And beside him...
Mortal Apollo stood still for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he came to his surges and surged towards the second figure desperately, the three of us following in his wake.
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xxx-yellow-xxx-blog · 4 years
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Hello...I guess?
Hi, I have absolutely no idea if anyone is going to read this and if I’m being honest with myself here, I hope no one dose. But the fact that your eyes are now soaking up these exact black words on your screen means that you have accidentally stumbled upon my tumblr page.
So, welcome? I hope you enjoy your stay?
I am very sorry to disappoint you, but my life is very boring and I’m using this as a way to get out all of my angry, sad, happy, lustful thoughts. A tiny part is me is hoping that someone else in the world is reading this and relating, maybe they could even help me with a few of my problems, or I could help them, but until that day comes I guess it’ll just be me, myself and I.
Without further ado, lets get into my issues...... yay!
Now I don’t know how old you are, I’m not a wizard, maybe your my age, maybe your older, maybe your younger, but ether way I bet you have loved someone. It could’ve been that one boy from your primary school who you shared your first kiss with, or an ex-girlfriend that you can’t seem to get out of your head no matter how long ago you two ended things. It may even be a family member, or pet... although that’s not the kind of love I’m on about here, I don’t think your sleeping with your brother, however people on pornhub might think differently.
ANYWAYS....... 
love, were on about love here Maisie, stop getting side tracked.
Well if you have then congratulations, we have something in common! Here’s what happened to me.....
I was dating this guy called Ben (not his real name, but you know, privacy is a thing) and at the start things were AMAZING, honestly I couldn’t have been happier. I had my first kiss with him, lost my virginity to him, he wasn’t just my boyfriend but my best friend too, we had so much fun together and around the year mark things turned sour.
Now, a thing to know about Ben is that he has a few mental health problem and when a close family member died, he was obviously very upset. I’m not saying this is the reason things went down hill, but he certainly pushed me away a lot more after this, which I completely understand, I tried to give him as much space as he needed while still being there for him, but I just grew more and more paranoid that I was annoying him, you know?
He never fully got over that death, but things got easier, we got closer again, things were starting to get back to normal, like how they were before.
Just after our 1 year, things took another bad turn, I’m not sure when exactly it happened but he got very controlling. He was logged into my Instagram, reading through messages with my friends and when a guy called Charlie (Who’s in my biology class) asked me to help him with some homework, Ben went through my chat with him and blocked him off my Instagram while I was talking to him, saying that he was jealous.
I have no idea if this has ever happened to you, but I’m only just realizing now how wrong that is! OK, OK I might be a little late to that train, but in my head I though he loves me, so it must be OK, wrong, it’s NEVER OK to do that!
Anyways, according to him there was nothing wrong with that, but when I get mad at him because he’s gone round to some girls house (just the two of them ALONE) and I find out TWO DAYS LATER of one of her friends, that makes me controlling?
I’m sorry but what the actual fuck.
I had been telling him long before he was hanging out with her that she clearly likes him, everyone could see it, but he decided to go with her anyway?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to justify his actions here, but as far as I know all they did was watch movies. But like seriously, how much do you want to bet something went down?
Now, this is where I made a mistake and did something stupid, I stayed with him, I should’ve dumped his ass then and there, but I didn’t. Why? Because I convinced myself I was in love with him and maybe I was, hell there are even times where I think I still am, but we’ll get into that in just a moment.
Since that point we were on and off quite a lot, his friends started to like me less but I couldn’t see why, our relationship was none of their business, even if they were concerned for him they still shouldn’t have done anything (my friends didn’t). Then I found out why, remember the girl from earlier? The one who’s house Ben went to, lets call her Maddie. She told me that Ben was “saying some stuff about me”. 
What stuff, you ask? This stuff”
“I feel like I’m stuck with her.”
“She wont let me break up with her.”
“I can’t break up with her, shes suicidal.”
People should never joke about suicide, it’s a real issue that more people need to speak out about and if your reading this and you happen to suffer from any type of mental illness you can always Dm me and I will help out no matter what, but I have NEVER been suicidal and the fact that that sentence even left his mouth fucking disgusts me. The fact he has the nerve to say something like that to make him look like the “good guy” make me feel physically sick.
just like UGH, this boy.
Anyways, our 2 year anniversary was going to be on the 10th of February, next year, but sadly we ended things on the 8th of December.
At first I felt sad, worthless, like I didn’t really have a place. He was comfortable and familiar, no matter how many times he had made me feel like shit or put me through hell, I would always make some kind of an excuse for him, not just so his actions would be justified so my friends didn’t hate him, but so I didn’t hate his as well.
Then came the mad and jealous stage, whenever he hung out with a girl I would just get so.... mad. Then he started hanging out with his one particular girl, we will call her Emily, she was also one of my friends.
He knew I didn’t want to hear about their late night calls, or how they would hang out every fucking day after school, but did that stop him from telling me? Nope.
I had honestly had it with him at this point so my friend told me to get on yubo and be a bit of a slag (DO NOT take his advice kids). I did and it was pretty fun, I was flirting with guys and found out I wasn’t as ugly as I though I was.
There was this one guy, I’ll call him James. It said on his mini profile thing that he wanted a serious relationship and I at this point did not, so instead of being flirty I was normal, treating him like a mate. I would talk to him about my “guy problems” and honestly he was great at helping me out. Then this one guy blocked me out of no where which I found weird and James being my go-to guy expert, I asked him about it.
He told me that the only thing he could think of was this guy is probably using me for.... *cough* things *cough* and then blocking me because he was seeing someone. I went on this whole rant about how I was tired of being used so he said “Well why don’t you use me”
You guys can fill in the gaps....
The next day I went out with my mum, I text him when I woke up so that he would see it as soon as he was awake and hopefully text me...OK that may have been a little weird of me but whatever. I had gone basically all day without a reply from him, but it didn’t bother me too much, then he finally snaps me telling me to call him, I did and he was so sweet, saying he was hoping I would call him all day and that he missed me, we talked for ages and it was great, we talked the day after that and the day after that, were still talking now, there’s just one problem....
I have no idea if he likes me or if he finds me annoying.
Sometimes he’ll snap me or call me and we’re having a really good time, at least I think we are and then others he wont even open my snaps for hours on end. I know he has a life and stuff and I’m probably just being over emotional because I’m on my period (Ladies, you know the feeling I’m on about) but like ugh.
He’s told me that he likes me AND this other girl too (which I’m fine with) but now when I ask him what he thinks of me he goes kinda quite.
Anyways, dating is new for me, so I guess this’ll be fun, I’ll keep you guys updated and shit. I may just be talking to myself here but I hope you enjoyed my little rant and want to know more because oh boy I have some problems, this is just the tip of the ice berk believe me. If anyone wants my advice on anything or just wants to talk to me then I’m always here, I honestly have no idea where this is going to go! :)
- Me
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Lolita
Good evening to anyone and anyone who happened to stumble across my blog. If you don’t enjoy reading about fucked up stories of persona trauma, maybe you should move to the next blog. However, if you find reading about someones personal hurdles, their road to recovery, and learning self love helpful to your own journey, then maybe this place is for you. I welcome you with open arms. 
It’s currently 3:19am. the last time I was on tumblr, was probably close to 4 years ago to go on and check out my old page with some friends. tumblr was one of my top social media sites as a teenager, however, I slowly grew out of it. But, as I just sat in bed, closing my laptop after completing the movie “Lolita” in bed, I needed to write. I am not sure if i want to type about my own Lolita experience, of if i just want to ramble on to the infinite void that the internet has to offer me. I guess me and you are both in for a surprise. 
If you’re not familiar with the movie, let me give you a quick summary. This dude is, idk , say in his 30s? And the movie opens up with this dude narrating about the time he was 14 years old, met a female 14 year old, and they fell in young sweet love. sounds lovely right? meh . not so much. sooooo, then buddy goes on to explain how this girl died, which froze something in his brain, making him still emotionally and sexually attracted to that of a 14 year old. yup. soooo, jump to present day where i think its based on somewhere in the 30′s? dude meets this chick, hes renting a room out of her house while trying to write this textbook he has been working on ( he is a professor) , he then spots eyes on 13 year old Delores. He is immediately memorized by this innocent young girl, so full of youth lounging in the sprinkler, chewing her gum, flipping a magazine, all before flashing dude with her kiddish smile that hold a retainer. At this moment, dude names her, his Lolita. So dude man pretends to be in love with Delores's mother, so that he can stay close to Delores.Delores clings to the love and attention she gets from this man, running into the house to jump on him and give him a long, deep, romantic kiss on the lips before her mother ships her off to summer camp.  Mother then dies, he goes to pick Delores up from summer camp, hides the fact that Lolita’s mother is dead. Delores is over joyed to see him, and begins to straddle him in the pulled over vehicle kissing him deeply. in case you forgot, yes she is 14 and dude man is in his 30s or some shit. soooo long story short, this movie follows the “love story” of a perverted, ill man, who falls in love and manipulates a young child. 
wow, talk about a run on paragraph, my gr.12 English teacher would NOT appreciate that paragraph...or the amount of sentences starting with a lower case letter. Whatever, that’s not the point. The point is, is that I don’t have a point, at least not one that is very sharp and polished yet. 
ENTER me. little 12 year old Krystal. were going to go with Krystal for now, and you will understand later on. At 12 years old, I met a girl, who we will call...Katelyn. I met Katelyn at a youth center in our small town. Im unsure of how many times we had hungout/played together before I met her father. Stal. Katelyn invited me over to her house, i believe via MSN (those were the days eh ). I still remember the first time I saw him, branded into my memory forever. I knocked on the front door of their small townhouse behind the highschool. “COME IN!” I hear yelled, I open the door. Katelyn is laying on the couch, stomach down, as her father sitting on her back jumping up and down, play wrestling. A couple of other kids were running around unkept house as a lady sat at the kitchen table with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, while staring at the aged laptop on the kitchen table. I later come to find out, the lasy was Stal’s fiance/girlfriend, and the children running around were their kids and their kids friends. 
back to the moment i saw him first tho, as i opened the doors, his eyes locked into mine, with a big smile on his face. “HELLO!”, yelled this man, with the energy of a 13 year old who had just spent all of their allowance at the corner store on penny candies. This man was very slim build, but not overly tall, maybe 5′7 -5′8. Long scraggy brown hair, wore tan cargo styled shorts, a black tank top, wore a brace on his right arm, a old beat up spalding baseball cap, and tattoos on most limbs. I will come to find out later in life, that this is the look that he sports 70% of the time, the rest of the time, the only article of clothing usually swapped, would be for a dark fitted pair of jeans (or the odd maybe 2 pairs of light washed) with black steal toed boots. on occasion he would wear that purple football jersey (i never followed football, but i knew it was his favourite team) , vikings maybe? who knows, who cares. But one thing, in the moment that our eyes locked, that i didn’t know. was that this moment was one of the biggest moments of my life. this moment dictated almost every decision, downfall, mistake, trauma, bittersweet memory, thought, opinion, for the rest of my life. at least until now. if i knew then, what I knew now, I would have turned my back to that man, and walked right out of that door. it would’t have even been a memory.
sorry if i’m loosing you, and i haven't gotten to the real juicy stuff yet. however, you need to understand, that in everyone's story, but may be important to them, may sound like annoying details that could have been blown over. 
IF i jumped right in and started this off with “so when I was 13, my friends dad who was in his 30s started fucking me, convinced and manipulated me that we were in love, all the while psychologically abusing me, alll the while doing this to another girl, same age, same time” .... THAT probably would have caught your attention a whole lot more, but, unfortunately for you, my patient reader, my story is more than just one run on sentence, it is 4 years of my life that I will never get back, it was four years of me truly believing that I was in love. if was four years of me lying to my friends and family, dissociating myself from friends, losing out on a preteen/teenage years, loosing my self confidence, losing my autonomy. it was 4 years that, I thought would ruin my entire life. however, it has been 7 years since this has all ended. I have recently started pressing charges against the man i once thought I would marry, i have an amazing career, an unreal support system within my friends and family. and I can say, that I fucking made it, in spite of him. 
don’t get me wrong, I have some really bad days, I do therapy, im on anti depressants, I have struggled with an eating disorder and with self mutilation. it has NOT been an easy road, and I know its still going to continue to be a rough road. but it is a road that I am slowly paving over, you can still feel some of the cracks in the foundation, but your car runs a little bit smoother on it.  I understand that my story is a little bit different, and i wish i had heard a simular one at the time to realized that what was going on, was actually abuse, and not love.
So, if i have kept you reading until here, perfect ! I am unsure of how often i will be posting, but i do have a slight idea of what it may look like. you may be rambled on posts like these, either explaining a memory i have with him, or continuing the story of Krystal and Stal, or it may be a large poem, it may only be a few sentences of of poem.  it will essentially just be, whatever the fuck is going on in my head, with the hopes that maybe somehow, someone out there can relate, and help you through a tough time as well. I know it is therapeutic to me, i can only hope it is to you as well. 
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Catching a Cold
Rating: T
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word count: 4589
Summary: Simon gets a terrible, destructive cold.
Read on AO3
AN: Wow another long one. Not as long as flowers, but still pretty long. Hope you enjoy it :)
Simon
I wake up feeling like my head is filled with cotton and my nose is on fire. Clear snot drips out of onto the pillow below. It even hurts to breathe.
“Shit,” I mutter. My voice is high pitch and clogged. I cough and green mucus comes out. Crowley, of all the things that could get me, and it’s fucking a cold.
And like my day couldn’t get any worse, Baz walks out of the bathroom, looking impeccable as always. He looks at me with a disgusted frown.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He says.
“I have a cold,” I say.
“Obviously. You sound horrible.”
“Fuck off.” I wish I could sound more intimidating but my voice makes that impossible.
Baz chuckles. “That barely works when you’re healthy, Snow. Nice try.”
“Hey you-” A tickling in my nose makes me stop. I feel the sneeze building bit by bit. But something else builds too. Like a charge in the pit of stomach. It’s too late when I realise what it is.
“ACHOO!” The air explodes around me. Streaks of lightning shoot out in every direction. Baz ducks for cover, hands braced on his head. Once my vision clears, I look around. The walls are singed and there’s electricity still swirling around my head.
“Aleister fucking Crowley, Snow!” Baz shouts as he stands back. “What the fuck was that?!”
“Um, I think my magic is, uh...reacting to the cold.”
Baz groans and shakes his head. “As if you weren’t destructive enough already.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault! I-” Oh no, the tickling starts again. Baz’s eyes go wide with fear.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Snow, press your tongue behind your top two teeth.”
“Wha-”
“Just do it!”
I press the tip of my tongue there as hard I can. I feel like an idiot. But then, the tickle start to fades and eventually goes away completely. Once fully gone, I let out a sigh, as does Baz. I wipe the snot away and turn to him.
“Now what was that?” I ask.
“My little sister has very severe allergies in the spring. My step-mother uses that trick to stop her sneezing fits. Luckily it works on large children as well as small ones.”
I glare as best I can with bloodshot eyes. Baz is certainly not intimidated though. I stand up out of bed, but the entire world suddenly decides to tilt sideways. Everything is topsy turvy. I stumble forward, about to fall on my face, until two strong hands grip my shoulders to steady me.
“Whoa whoa, don’t stand up.” Baz’s voice is surprisingly soft. There’s barely an edge to it. “Get back on the bed.”
I sit on the mattress, my head hanging down. Everything is still spinning. I try to focus on the floor for some semblance of stability.
“I’m going to try a spell,” he says, still soft. “Get well soon!”
His magic hits me like a heatwave and wraps around my body like a warm blanket. But the warmth slides off me, pooling at my feet.
“Hmph. Why isn’t it working?”
“My body knows I hate you,” I chuckle. “Doesn’t want your help.”
Baz growls. “Or maybe your magic agitating cold is spell proof. You’re going to have to get over it the old fashioned way, I guess .”
I groan. “I have a project to hand in though.”
“I’ll do that,” Baz replies. “Just get back in bed, you idiot.”
“But-”
“No buts. Lie down, now.”
With one last annoyed humph, I do as he says. The usually annoyingly lumpy pillow feels like a goddamn cloud now. I sigh and snuggle into it. Baz carefully pulls the blanket up to my shoulders. I open my eyes, but my vision is too blurry to see his face clearly. I wonder what he looks like, how he’s looking at me. I frown.
“Why are you doing this? You could kill me right now, easily”
“Because you’re utterly helpless right now. And despite your deluded opinion of me, I’m not a complete monster. I won’t kick a man when he’s down. Plus the sooner you get better, the sooner I won’t have to worry about being hit by a stray lightning bolt.”
I huff, closing my eyes. “Right. Don’t want to be a pile of ash.”
He scoffs. “Go to sleep, Snow.” With that, I hear him walk away. Once the door is closed, I let myself relax. I bury my face into the pillow and drift away into sleep.
“Snow? Snow? Simon, wake up.”
I blink open my gummy eyes. There’s little sunlight coming in through the window. Crowley, I must’ve slept the whole day away. Baz is leaning over me. And I swear he almost looks concerned. Probably just afraid I’ll fry him with my literally explosive sneeze.
“You just called me Simon,” I mumble.
“No, I didn’t. You’re sick and obviously hallucinating.”
Baz is holding stuff in his hands. A stack of papers in one, and a large ceramic bowl in the other. I squint at the bowl.
“What’s that?”
He holds up the paper. “Your homework. Of course it will only be of use if you decide to do it.”
I shake my head. “Not that, arsehole. The bowl.”
Baz places the papers on his side table and lowers the bowl towards my face. The smell of salty broth wafts its way into my stuffed nose.
“Soup,” Baz says. “Compliments of Cook Pritchard. I told her how utterly pathetic you were, plus how imperative it is you get better before burning the whole school to the ground. So she made you soup. Now sit up and drink it.”
With immense effort, I sit up on my bed. The room isn’t spinning as much as before, so that’s a good sign. Baz carefully places the soup in my lap and puts a spoon in my hand. I swear his fingers linger on mine, but it’s so brief I must be hallucinating more. I take a cautious sip. It tastes great. I hum in approval.
“Good?” Baz asks.
“Very,” I reply, taking another sip. The warmth it clears my aching head slightly, enough to let a sudden thought to smash in. I inhale sharply, which causes another coughing fit, and a curious look from Baz.
“You alright, Snow?”
“Oh Crowley,” I rasp out. “Did you tell Penny I’m here? She’s probably going to freak out.”
Baz rolls his eyes. “Of course. Bunce ambushed me after class, demanding I tell her where you are or she’d smite me where I stood. I told her, she didn’t believe me, then I told her again and swore on my mother’s grave, and then she was convinced.”
I sigh. “Oh thank Merlin. Is she coming up here? I’m guessing she wants to come up here.”
“She wanted to. But I told her we should keep you in quarantine for now in case anyone else could get the more violent symptoms.”
“You’re not worried about getting sick yourself?”
“I don’t get sick.”
I nod slowly. “Right. Because you’re a vampire.”
Baz glares, seemingly trying to murder me with just his gaze. “ Because, I have a good immune system. Now drink the rest of that soup. It will keep you hydrated and give you nutrients.”
With an annoyed huff, I keep drinking it. I’ll admit, it does make me feel better. Soon I look back up at Baz, still sitting on his bed facing me. “How are you so good at this?”
“I have four younger siblings, Snow. If one of them gets sick, they all get sick. And since I never do, I help my parents.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to help me.”
He makes a “pfft” noise, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Magically destructive illness means automatic truce in my book. And I told you, I’m not a complete monster.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Just keeps sitting there, silent, frowning slightly (but his face always looks like that). He doesn’t elaborate, leaving that statement hanging in the air. And honestly, I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself with it.
“Alright,” I finally say. “Truce. Until I’m not at risk of blowing you up.”
He nods once curtly. “Good. Glad that’s settled, Snow.”
I slurp down the last of the soup. (It’s really good.) Baz makes a disgusted noise at my manners. But he still takes the empty soup bowl from me and puts it on my desk. I lie back down.
“Now,” I say. “What did I miss in class?”
Baz raises an eyebrow. “You really care?”
I shrug. “I need something to sleep off my cold. Schoolwork is boring enough to send me right back to dreamland.”
“You really plan to sleep through your entire illness?”
“It’s only a cold. Should be gone in a day or two.”
“Achoo!”
Boom! A lightning bolt assaults the opposite wall and the black mark gets bigger. Five days. I’ve been sick for five fucking days and the only good thing is that I've figured out how to make my electric sneezes focused in one area. Now it just shoots out in front of me. Still makes Baz flinch though, understandably. He does so just as another sneeze bolt lets loose.
“Aleister Crowley, Snow,” he says from his bed. “Are you getting any better?”
“Obviously not,” I grumble, blowing my nose again.
“This is so weird. If this is a normal cold, then why won’t it go away?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I flop down on the bed and groan. This is a nightmare. Penelope is pretty sure I have some unknown magical plague. She’s researching every minute outside of class. Agatha convinced Baz to bring me scones along with the daily soup. The Mage would care if he was bloody well around.
Baz has been surprisingly understanding. He brings the aforementioned soup and scones everyday, tells me what I missed in class, and even wrote out an assignment for me I dictated to him. Merlin, he even edited it for me. I really wonder, is this Baz pretending to be a nice person? Or is this how he actually acts but just treats me like crap? Am I the exception or the rule?
Either way, I think I like...this. This weird illness inducing truce. I definitely like it better than fighting.
“I feel like death,” I whine.
“You’re not dying, Snow,” Baz replies.
“How do you know, Mr. Smartypants?”
“Because I’m supposed to kill you. And the universe is not kind enough to let you die of a cold before I can do so.”
I roll onto my side so I can see him better. He’s reading his book with a completely blank expression. No indication he’s bothered by what he just said. It bothers me though. Usually I wouldn’t say anything, just accept it and move on. Maybe it’s my cold messing with my head, but I can’t let it go.
“You really think that?” I mumble. “That we’re going to kill each other?”
Baz flicks his eyes over to me. “Don’t you?”
I shrug. “I know I’m supposed to. It’s what everyone says. But I don’t know.” I look down at my bedsheet, tracing circles in the fabric. “I...I don’t think I'd want to now. You’ve been so nice to me through all of this. Why would I kill someone who’s being so nice to me?”
He scoffs. “Because I’m a Pitch and you’re the Mage’s heir. We’re doomed to die by each other’s hand. If the Humdrum doesn’t get you first.”
“Stop talking like your father and talk like yourself,” I snap.
He doesn't say anything for too long. I slowly lift up my head. Baz is looking at me, and it’s not with disgust, or contempt, or even blank resignation. In fact, he looks almost...pained. His eyes are round and open, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He’s got a death grip on his book so hard his knuckles are ghost white. It’s like he wants to say something but he can’t get it out. The anxious ache in my stomach grows with every passing second.
“Simon-”
Then I sneeze.
It comes out of nowhere. The bolt sails towards Baz’s head. He yelps and ducks down just in time. When he looks back up, it’s with the familiar expression of contempt.
“Fucking Merlin and Morgana, Snow!” He roars. “You nearly killed me!”
“I’m sorry!” I shout back.
“I don’t fucking care how sorry you are! If I’m going to die it will not be by your idiotic cold!”
“It was an accident.”
“Like hell it was,” he snarls. “Thought you could lull me into a false sense of security then get me, huh? Nice try, Chosen One.”
I gape at him. Does he really think I’d do that? That I’m capable of something so manipulative? “N-No of course not. I-I- How could you- I would-”
“Shut the fuck up you stupid stuttering numpty!”
He pushes himself off the bed and stomps to the door.
“W-Where are you going?”
“Out,” he mutters. “Away from you.”
With that, he walks out and slams the door closed with enough force to shake the room. I’m left there, frozen, in too much shock to move. What the hell just happened? It was an accident, I know it was. But my stupid words wouldn’t work like usual. And now he’s gone. There’s nothing I can do.
Slowly, I lay back down on my bed and stare out the window. I don’t cry. I just let myself wallow in self pity. Mentally hitting myself for doing that. Fuck, we were getting somewhere, and I messed it up. Messed it up like I always mess up everything.
I really am the worst chosen one that’s ever been chosen.
Baz hasn’t spoken to me in two days. Fuck, he hasn’t even so much as looked at me. No more homework help or soup. (Penny’s been bringing food instead.) It’s all just unbelievably tense silence. He stays out of the room too, goes out at night for longer that he ever has before. Like right now.
I’m on my back, staring at the ceiling. I’m surrounded by snotty tissues. I can’t sleep. That stupid day is still mulling around in my head all this time. It was an accident. I know it was...right? I didn’t mean to. The sneeze just came out of nowhere, no warning. I didn’t want to hurt Baz. It’s just this stupid cold.
What if it was subconscious? What if deep down I did? Oh god, am I really that much of a monster inside? I can’t be, I can’t be, I can’t-
I can’t breathe.
I bolt up and put a hand to my chest. It’s like there’s an elephant on my lungs. The whole world is spinning. The horrible thoughts keep bashing into me over and over again. You’re evil, you’re a monster, you tried to kill him after all he did to help you. It’s like the world’s worst time loop. Every inhale is a struggle. My magic reacts with me, pushing to the surface, making my skin simmer and glow. Fuck, I think I’m about to go off.
“Snow? Simon!”
Baz’s voice is distant to me. I faintly hear him run to my bed. He crashes onto the mattress, eyes wild with fear.
“Baz,” I choke out. “Can’t- Can’t breathe.”
“Oh my god, oh my god,” he mutters. “Is it your cold?”
“N-No. Head. T-Thinking- Won’t stop.”
Baz’s fear fades slightly. He looks more determined than anything. Suddenly, he takes my head between his hands, looking me right in the eye. (I think he does, it’s all too spinny.)
“Simon,” he says firmly. “You’re having a panic attack, okay? I need you to try to calm down and control your breathing.”
I try to wrangle in my mind but it won’t listen. The thoughts slip out of my grasp every time. My body keeps heating up. I shake my head violently.
“C-Can’t.’
“Shit,” he hisses. After a second, he grabs my wrists presses both my hands to his cool chest. “Simon, I want you to feel me breathe and try to sync up with it, okay?”
I nod vigorously.
“Alright. Listen to my voice, feel my lungs. In,” he inhales, “1,2,3. Out,” he exhales, “1,2,3.”
I focus on the feeling under my palms. It’s the only constant, grounding thing I can detect at the moment. In, 1,2,3, out, 1,2,3. Baz does it over and over again, keeping his grip on my wrists tight. Before I know it, I’m breathing just like him, my magic isn’t about explode, and the world isn’t spinning anymore.
I can finally see Baz’s face clearly. I’ve never seen him so scared, eyes wide and brows near his hairline. He hasn’t let go of me. But...I really don’t want him to, actually. His touch keeps me steady. It reminds me of the real world. That I didn't really kill him.
“You okay?” He says softly. I nod, and he sighs, the fear sliding off his face. “Thank Merlin.”
The exhaustion washes over me. This whole experience has completely drained me. I can’t help but yawn.
“Go to bed, Snow.” Baz starts to let go of my wrists. I inhale sharply. No, he can’t leave now. The second lets go I feel untethered, weightless, like I could drown in my own mind again.
“No,” I say, grabbing Baz’s hands tightly. He looks at me curiously. “Don’t go.”
“Snow, wha-”
“You’re, you’re keeping me grounded. Just stay. Please.”
Baz looks at me for what feels like eternity. His lips hang open. I watch his eyes for a sign of choice. He’s probably going to shove me away. Call me an idiot or something. The last thing I expect is for him to sigh and nod slowly.
“Alright,” he whispers. “Just face the other way in case of a sneeze.”
I nod back. “Okay.”
I lay down on my side, facing the window. I brush the snotty tissues onto the floor, giving me a better view of the twinkling stars. After hearing the sound of Baz kicking off his shoes, I feel the mattress shift as he lays down next to me. We’re still holding each other's hand. I refuse to let go. But it’s more awkward now, my arm bent behind me. It’s definitely preventing me from falling asleep.
Fuck it. I grunt and pull our hands in front of myself, putting Baz’s arm across my waist. He lurches forward as a result, inhaling sharply. His chest is maybe a millimeter from touching my back. Our bodies are practically lined up.
“Snow, what are you-”
“Can’t sleep if my arm twisted,” I mutter. “Neither can you.”
He humphs annoyedly, but doesn’t move. Our fingers are weaved together, resting in front of my stomach. I can feel his breath hit the back of my neck, sending a warm shiver down my spine. Usually, Baz’s constant presence makes me tense, like I’m walking on eggshells or a minefield. But now, it’s the exact opposite. I don’t feel panicked or drowning as long as I can hear him breathing and feel his skin on mine. Clinging to his hand, it’s like clinging to a life raft.
“Goodnight, Baz.”
“Night...Simon.”
I squeeze his palm once, just lightly. And I swear he squeezes back.
I wake up just before dawn. Orange light is dancing on the horizon outside the window. There’s a weight across my side. And something warm on my back. Something warm and breathing.
Oh. Right.
Baz has moved closer in his sleep, (though he didn’t have to move that much in the first place.) His nose is nudged into my neck, his chest pressed against my spine. Our legs are tangled together. We’re still holding hands too, together arms across my side, fingers interlocked.
Basilton Grimm-Pitch is sleeping next to me. Curled up next to me. And it feels...really nice. I like him like this. Under my thumb, under my hand. Not off plotting or hurting others or hurting himself. Part of me wants to never let him move from here ever again.
I let go of his hand and slowly turn to face him. He’s breathing evenly, lips slightly open (and he calls me a mouth breather.) He looks so relaxed, and kind of, pretty. His hair is all mussed, raven strands hanging in his face. The dawn light makes his pale skin practically glow. Maybe I never will let him get up. Maybe I’ll just keep looking at him for eternity.
His eyes blink open. And slowly, they focus on me. He looks very shocked for a second, but then he relaxes as the memory of last night returns. Though his eyes still look a bit scared.
“You’re still here,” I whisper. “You stayed all night.”
“You begged me to stay,” he replies, voice equally low.
“But you didn’t have to.”
He shrugs, something he rarely does. “I’m allowed to be nice sometimes.”
“You keep saying that. Maybe...you’re just a nice person.”
“Am not.” His nose curls up in disgust. “Stop trying to ruin my reputation, Snow.”
“Actually, I really think you are.” I trace a finger down his jaw and his breath hitches. “You’re a nice person, Baz. A good person.”
I run my finger up and down, and his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a shuddering sigh. I feel his hand clench behind me. His face pulls in, like he’s in pain. No, I don’t want him to be hurting. So I move my hand upward and rub his forehead with my thumb. Trying to erase his tense lines with my touch. Slowly, his grip loosens, the lines fade, and his eyes open, just halfway.
“Simon...” he sighs.
Then I kiss him.
I don’t exactly know why. The impulse enters my mind and suddenly my lips are pressed against his. A still, chaste kiss. Baz inhales sharply, head pulling back slightly. For a second I think he’s going to push me off. That I’ve made an enormously stupid mistake and now Baz is going to fry me alive for it.
But then he pushes back. He grabs my shirt at the small of my back and hauls me even closer to him. It’s like there’s a fire burning between us. Growing bigger with every way mouths move, slotting together like that’s all they’re meant to do. Baz’s hand presses hard into my lower back, like he’s making sure I’m really here.
I wonder how long he’s wanted this. I wonder how long I’ve wanted this. I’d say I didn’t, but then why is there this list in my head of all the things I’ve always wanted to do to Baz? Like this.
I push my hand into Baz’s hair. It’s smooth and slips through my fingers, just like I always thought it would. I clench my fist and shove his face into mine. Suddenly, he breaks off.
“Sorry,” I say (I’m out of breath, it’s embarrassing.)
“No, it’s... How’s your cold? Do you still feel sick?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Worried about catching? I thought you didn’t get sick.”
“I don’t. But a lightning sneeze could turn me into a pile of ash.
Oh right. I’ve completely forgot about my cold until now. I take a breath through my nose, and though it's not exactly clear, it's better than before. My throat isn’t as scratchy either. I smile, earning a confused look from Baz.
“Actually,” I say, “I’m feeling a lot better. I think you might be curing me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Snow.”
“You called me Simon before.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Baz .” I cup his cheek. The annoyance drains from his face with a single sigh. Crowley, who knew one touch could make him relax like this? He puts his hand over mine, long fingers around me.
“Simon,” he says softly. “What are you doing?”
“Holding your face, obviously.”
“No. I mean, what is this?” He gestures between us. “Is this just an impulsive illness induced decision? Or...something else?”
I chew on my bottom lip, and sigh. “Well, I’m usually unsure of most things. But, I’m sure that I like this. I like you. I like you being nice to me, I like being nice to you. I like knowing you’re okay. These past few days, when I thought I almost killed you, I thought I was going to lose my mind. Fuck, I had a bloody panic attack over it. And I’m so sorry for that, I really am. I just, I know I like this better than fighting.” I bend my head down, too scared to look him in the eye. “Do...do you?”
Baz lets go of my hand, and for a second I think he’s going to push me away. Tell me that he hates me, that he hopes I rot in hell after putting me there. But then he grabs my chin and tilts my head back up to face him. His mouth is stern, determined, but his grey eyes are soft. Softer than I’ve ever seen them before. He traces his index slowly up my jawline. When his fingers tangle in my hair, it sends a shudder down my spine.
“Yes,” he breathes. “I do. Of course I do. Crowley, I've always wanted this.”
I’m taken aback by that, eyes widening. “Really?”
“Yes. Almost since we met.”
My breath hitches. His utter candor hits me right in the heart. For once, there’s nothing guarded about his face. He’s not hiding behind a bored expression anymore. He’s letting himself be vulnerable to me. And I like it. I don’t want him to hide from me anymore.
I grab the back of Baz’s neck and tap my forehead against his. He takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut. Dragging his hand down my spine, he settles his palm against the small of my back.
“Then let's have this, Baz,” I whisper.
"Simon," he sighs. "I do want this, I really do. But there’s still a lot of stuff in our way. You have to know that.”
“Of course I know. But...we can do it, right? We can figure it all out. If we can get through this shitty destructive cold, we can get through anything.”
Baz chuckles, shaking his head against mine. “I think an impending civil war and a super villain are a bit more difficult.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. But we’ll have each others backs. We can beat it together. And for now, let’s just...” I sigh, letting my eyes fall shut. “Let’s worry about all that later, alright? I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I want it to be just us for now.”
He smiles softly, eyes opening just a bit. He pushes us closer together. I bury my face in his neck, and he pushes his nose into my hair.
“Yes. Let’s, just be us right now.”
“Good.”
So we just lay there, holding each other, letting the world happen around us while we stay still. Because while we’re here, we’re not the Chosen One and the Pitch heir. We’re just two boys who care about each other with all the time in the world.
I've hated being in this bed the past week. But now I never want leave it again.
AN: Yeah it got super sappy at the end, I know. I'm a sap king/queen. Next up: side characters!
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