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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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Ooh! Requests are open! Can I have delusional Shigaraki confessing to his crush?

A terrible man, at the best of times. It’s been a while since I’ve worked with a full-on Delusional, and I can’t say I’m upset that Shigaraki’s going to be the one to ruin that streak. It’s what he deserves, after so long.

TW: Delusional Mindsets, Abduction, Mentions of Sedatives and Non-Consensual Touching.

You were in a motel room, when you woke up.

You were already restrained when came to, positioned on the center of a queen-sized mattress and handcuffed to the headboard, sleek metal already starting to make red, angry indents in your wrists. Beyond your burrow of scratchy sheets and fake wood, the decor wasn’t anything special, a table and a couple of chairs being the only other furniture deemed necessary to fill the space, just like any other uncanny, rundown hotel room you might find yourself in. That’s why your reaction might’ve been so delayed - it all just seemed so familiar. Cryptic, but not unknown. Like a dream you couldn’t quite remember.

Whatever you’d been drugged with probably helped, too. You’d passed out hours ago, but you still couldn’t quite keep your eyes open. Time blurred, seconds drawing out and minutes speeding up, and your emotions followed their lead, panic and despair soon obscured by a blanket of cold, dull indifference.

Miserable, unremarkable apathy.

It was all you could do to throw a half-hearted glance towards the door when a man saw fit to enter, letting you catch a brief look at the shadowy parking lot outside, yellow streetlights casting everything in a layer of wrong. Your attention turned towards the intruder, but there wasn’t much information to be gathered. He wasn’t particularly tall, nor was he bulky, his white hair disheveled and the trenchcoat dropped over his shoulders a size too big. The only thing that seemed off was his lips, or rather, the wide, toothy grin spread across them.

A sobering pang of fear shot through your chest, a name coming to mind as your eyes met his. Shigaraki Tomura. A criminal, a murderer, a terrorist.

A villain.

Suddenly, you were pulling at your shackles, pushing yourself backward until you were pressed against the headboard. Your arms protested the shift, forced into an awkward angle and screaming for relief, but you ignored them, your only priority becoming protecting yourself, getting away from him. You opened your mouth, but your voice hitched in your throat, refusing to do anything but writhe in your neck and tear at your vocal cords, crawling back down into your lungs when you failed to cough it up. Instead, you spat out the only thing you could think of, the words coming out as a meek, pathetic whimper. “Are you going to kill me?”

Shigaraki chuckled, his grin broadening as he took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between you swiftly. He didn’t seem to feel the need to fill the silence, staring on as you curled into yourself, doing everything you could to assume a defensive position. You pulled your knees into your chest as he sat on the edge of the bed, but if Shigaraki cared, he didn’t bother stopping you. Just laughing, smiling, beaming. As if there was no place he’d rather be than watching you tremble and shake.

“Dabi wasn’t kidding.” He reached out, resting a hand on your calf, his index finger hovering just above your skin. You couldn’t remember much about his quirk, but you knew it was something to do with touching. You weren’t sure what would happen, but you were sure it wouldn’t be good, and you knew you didn’t want to find out. You considered trying to pull away, but Shigaraki didn’t give you the chance, his hand clamping down around your ankle and pulling your leg straight. A slight glare was enough to convince you to flatten the other in suit. “When he said he had something to show me, I really… I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“I haven’t done anything,” You said, for lack of a better response. You didn’t know what he’s talking about, but you didn’t care, either. “Please, let me go home. I won’t tell the police, I won’t tell anyone. I just want to go home.”

“Soon,” He dismissed, his focus quickly drifting elsewhere. He was careful as he climbed over you, meticulous, watching where his hands landed with an intense concentration and keeping you caged against the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip at your sides. Your heart pounded in your chest, a knot of dread forming in the pit of your stomach, but any ulterior motives Shigaraki had were pushed to the side. Rather, he seemed content to bury his face in your shoulder, warm breath fanning over your neck as he spoke. “I… I like you, (Y/n).”

You blinked once, twice. “You... you what?”

“I really, really like you.” He sounded more like a flustered schoolboy than a grown man, now, a teenager desperate to avoid embarrassment. That didn’t stop him from going on, though, continuing despite how much you wanted him not to. “I have for a while, but you know that, don’t you? The way you’d smile at me, and be so cute when you knew I was watching…” He trailed off, pecking at your neck playfully. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but scowl. “I’ll have to thank the ugly bastard. I might’ve snapped and approached you myself, if he hadn’t done it first.”

You thought about saying you didn't know him. You thought about calling him crazy, about calling him a stalker, about struggling and fighting and doing anything but lying there and letting him live out his little fantasy. But, all it took was a squeeze to your hip to snap you out of that mentality, the helplessness of your situation finally dawning on you.

It took more effort than it should’ve to make yourself speak. “If I...” You started, pausing to think of a delicate way to phrase your question. “If I don’t feel the same way, will you let me go?”

Another laugh, this one throaty, forced. Shigaraki pulled back, lingering for a moment before cupping your jaw, pressing his lips against yours a second later. It was more of a collision than a kiss, highlighting his inexperience and your reluctance, leaving you confused and underwhelmed as he straightened his back. But, Shigaraki didn’t share in your disappointment. A series of ecstatic, eager sounds trickled from his mouth, and in a moment, his arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest as he reveled in his excitement.

“No, no, angel, of course not.” He sighed, kissing the top of your head, his free hand moving towards the cuffs on your wrists. You heard a metallic rattle, a slightly muffled crack, but the restraints dissolved as soon as he made contact, leaving a layer of dust and little else as the only evidence they’d existed. “If you don’t love me… You have to love me. I’m going to take you home, and I’m never going to go without you again. We’re going to love each other, and you’re going to be happy with me.”

Your arms were free, now, but you didn’t try to get away, you didn’t move. It was all you could do to hold still and let him hold you, to cooperate knowing you’d face the same fate as your bonds, if you didn’t. Shigaraki only tightened his grip, his smile still pressed against your scalp. More malicious than before.

Darker than before.

“Besides,” He whispered, a little too quietly. Like he didn’t really care whether or not you heard. “If you don’t love me, why would I bother taking care of you? Anything so useless would be better off starving on the streets than wasting my time.”

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etjwrites · 3 years

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OC Backstory - Emotion Edition | Week 5: Free/Courage

Week 0: Introduction || Week 1: Fear || Week 2: Joy || Week 3: Disgust || Week 4: Sadness || Week 5: Anger ||

Is it over already? This was so much fun! I really enjoyed participating and reading everyone's pieces. Thanks to our wonderful hosts @cirianne and @kosmosian-quills for putting this on! These prompts filled my mind with layers upon LAYERS of backstory, and really helped me flesh out Brom as a character. Afallon is so much better because of it!

You probably stumbled upon something between the last prompts, that moved you. An idea that didn’t really match the prompt. A backstory character that deserved exploring. A question that stayed unanswered. For this week, I encourage you to look for these questions and explore them, write on them, and tell me about it!

In keeping with the theme of this event, I chose yet another emotion, the story behind which I'm excited to share with y'all! Brom is about 14 here. (I started writing this and it wouldn't stop. Help.) @yourocsbackstory

“These paths look treacherous,” Brom said, glancing nervously back at the way they'd come. He and Prentice had been traversing the numerous twists and turns of Hyphantria's revered caverns for quite a while, looking for all the secret entrances. Each time they explored the maze-like tunnels, they went a little farther, a little deeper.

Prentice waved a hand dismissively. “I've a sure foot.” He tapped the top of his boots with his walking staff. “Furthermore, how often have we quested here? These caves are as familiar as mine own hands.”

“We left familiar behind two chambers ago,” Brom reminded his friend. “I'm actively adding to our map as we progress.”

“If on the map, 'tis familiar,” Prentice rejoined. “No matter how new the path may be.” He patted the crystal-studded wall to his left. “In fact, I almost feel at home.”

“The whispering,” Brom said, unease, twisting in his chest. “It's stopped.”

Prentice quirked his head, listening. “Why so it has,” he said, brows knitting together before sheer panic stamped itself onto his features. “Brom, run!” He turned and dashed back through the tunnel, Brom following, the both of them slipping and sliding and cutting themselves against the sharp-edged walls.

Beneath their feet, the earth started to rumble, and dread seized Brom's heart. Would they die down here in the bowels of Hyphantria, ground into dust by the ceiling collapsing upon them? He pushed faster, past Prentice, towards the sparkling glimmer that marked one of the other large chambers whose tunnels would lead them back to the surface.

A sharp cry made him whip around and jerk to a stop. Prentice had fallen, struggling to regain his feet amidst the wobbling, unstable ground. A stalactite shook loose and crashed to the ground just where his head would have been, had he not managed to roll away in time.

Brom staggered towards him, hand outstretched, when the earth shook mightily.

Prentice flung himself at Brom.

Too late.

With a great, groaning sigh, the floor gave way, and Prentice tumbled deep into the newly formed crevasse.

“Prentice!” Brom screamed, dropping to his hands and knees, swaying with the sudden shuddering of cavern. He called his name again, peering desperately into the dark. But while the softly glowing crystal shards that lined the Shalott caves could well enough light the paths and tunnels they'd been exploring, their gentle luminescence was unable to penetrate the deep, yawning blackness that fell away in front of him.

He called again and again, but there was no answer. Either his friend had fallen so far he could not hear him, or he been knocked insensible upon landing. Neither scenario was desirable, and Brom squeezed his abruptly burning eyes shut, refusing to consider the possibility that Prentice might be gone.

No. He had to be alive. Had to be alright.

Ominous rumbles filled the sharp-toothed cavern, more stalactites falling during a particularly vicious quake.

The wisest thing to do would be to run, to flee to the next chamber and worm his way through one of the escape tunnels until he could see the sky once more.

But Brom couldn't leave Prentice here to die. He would be the worst kind of coward if he did that. His first and only friend in all of Hyphantria, who risked all manner of danger to sneak him across the boarder on occasions such as these, and showed him many of the wonders his mother's country had to offer. Brom would save him. Or die trying.

“Give me strength,” he prayed. He thrust trembling hands into his pack, withdrawing his climbing rope. He kept up the silent prayers. He felt so utterly alone, the jarring earthquake shaking and horribly distorting the natural light of the caves so he could barely walk. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” he breathed, reciting the verses over and over even as his hands shook so much he could barely fasten the clips in place.

Brom tugged hard on the rope once he had tied it off, looping it around for added strength. He looped his climbing pick around his hands, aware he could lose a limb if it snagged in the wrong place, at the wrong time, yet horribly afraid to lose his means of retreat. With one of the picks he struck the vibrating wall, breaking off some crystals, which he tied about his arms.

“Prentice!” he called once more, and again received no answer. “Please be alive,” Brom prayed. “I need a miracle right now.”

Then he turned around, and—clinging to the ropes—lowered himself into the black abyss.

Brom descended for long minutes, the crystals lashed about him providing the faintest light. He steadily climbed deeper, the glow from the ceiling above diminishing until it felt like a distant memory.

This far down it was cold. The quake continued to rage, and Brom grew ever aware of a powerful thirst that made dizzy. But he dared not let go of the rope, not even to slake his needs.

His feet touched ground. He'd reached a small ledge.

Brom relaxed for half a moment, and then a terrible jolt flung him off its crumbling edge. He hit the other side of the crevasse hard, the breath knocking out of him and leaving him gasping as the rope tied around his middle yanked him to a stop. He hung there, dangling in the air, fingers barely able to brush either side.

Thankfully his picks had stayed attached, so he struck out with them, painfully aware that he'd run out of rope, and yet hadn't found Prentice. Brom gulped. He would have to climb up again and unloop the rope.

Ascending seemed to take twice as long, and Brom's arms were shaking when he reached the top. Everything was cast in an eerie blue and white glow, and Brom could feel that time was running out. If he didn't find Prentice soon, the falling stalactites might well block their path home.

Once he had the rope unfurled to its full length, Brom ventured once more into the place that had swallowed his friend. He passed the spot where he'd had to stop before and kept going, deeper, and deeper, the chill of the abyss freezing him to his bones.

And there!

Prentice's walking stick was wedged into a narrow part of the crevasse, two bloodied hands clinging to it.

Brom started crying.

One of Prentice's hands slipped, and he swore at Brom. “I didn't hold on this long for you to lose heart at the finish!” His voice was horse, likely from screaming. The shock had hit each of them in different ways it seemed.

Ignoring his friend's harsh words, words that were driven by the terror in Prentice's eyes, Brom rappelled down closer. He gathered up the slack in the rope and looped it around Prentice's waist, securing it using a knot his father had once taught him.

“You can let go,” he said, testing the rope to make sure it still held fast.

“I confess, I cannot,” Prentice said, shaking his head minutely. His clothes were torn to shreds, like he'd scraped against the walls the whole way down until his stick had caught, and he had cuts and freshly-formed bruises adorning his entire body. One of his eyes was swollen shut, a jagged cut bisecting it that stretched from his cheek to his temple.

“One hand at a time,” Brom said, getting his hand under Prentice's and shifting it from the stick to his shoulder. He did the same with the other, and the next instant Prentice was clinging to him, limpet-tight.

A massive shudder rocked the cave at that moment, and the gap widened, Prentice's stick dislodging and spinning away into the darkness.

If I had been but a moment later, Brom thought, unable to repress the full-body shiver that twitched through him. He slid one of his picks into Prentice's hand, slipping the loop over his wrist twice.

“You must help me climb, I have not the the strength to lift us both.”

“Aye, 'tis time that I cease clutching you like a babe,” Prentice said, the words meant to be joking. The fine tremour in his voice spoiled the effect.

They struck out together, Prentice and Brom, inching their way up until they reached the cavern floor. Mercifully, the distressing bucking had stopped, and they lay on the rubble-strewn ground until they caught their breath.

“Thank Heaven,” Brom uttered aloud, and Prentice nodded solemnly along.

“You saved my life, Brom,” he said.

They rose to their feet and began the arduous, limping walk back to the escape tunnels.

“I owe you a great debt. I should never have placed you in this position. I . . . I almost killed you. I would not have begrudged you had you fled and left me behind.”

“I wanted to,” Brom admitted, shame flushing his skin. “At first. I was so afraid.”

“But you did not.” Prentice paused for a moment and clapped Brom on the shoulder before they resumed their trek. “I really thought I would die. I screamed and screamed, but you didn't answer. Or I couldn't hear a response amidst the earth's pain. The longer I held on, the more I began to wonder if I were mad for simply not accepting my fate. I had myself near about convinced that I should just let go.”

“Then I saw you, descending into the pit like the Archangel Michael himself. You could have died rescuing me. You looked as terrified as I felt. But still you threw yourself into the unknown. For me. In the greater world, we are yet seen as boys, but Brom—I tell you truly—you are the bravest man I've ever known.”

They turned a corner, and the bright sun greeted them.

Additional thanks to everybody who has read and commented on my work for this event. Y'all rock!

Tag Crew: @adie-dee @writtendevastation @catharticallysarcastic @francestroublr @crystallized-ink

#it is here; it is very late. But it is done!#writeblr #am writing #yourocsbackstory #emotion edition #brom #afallon #etjwrites

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common-blackbird · 4 years

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it’s time... for a dragon age 2 playthrough post. scroll on!

The things i loved most:

1) the frame of the game - Cassandra interrogating Varric.

What a great way to get hook the player. Like, the opening of guards dragging this poor dwarf with cuts of the title, and then Cassandra demanding answers... Whoaaa! I have no idea if that’s usually done in games or not, but it’s definitely such an amazing intro with characters introducing themselves as well as the story so perfectly, it captivates instantly. The tutorial has a charm to it bc varric is messing around. Which serves to show more of his character. Cassandra’s personality was pretty much blank here but her presence is so powerful. Something happened, something huge and they know and i was about to find out. I can’t describe how excited that intro made me feel. Each time the scene cut to the interrogation scenes, my eyes were glued more than ever. Just GREAT.

Also it makes for a very convenient scapegoat for every plothole ever with the argument “it’s just his version of the story”.

2) The story.

It’s tragic. It’s amazing! The further you play, the more you can see that no matter what you do, everything leads to a disaster. Hawke doesn’t want to take sides, tries to mediate, does not want to get involved, but just can’t stop it. For every thing gained, Hawke loses two more. Your friends come with packages that get you involved in terrible stuff. Your good intentions result in disasters. The whole game you spent time climbing the social ladder not only to reach the top hauntingly alone after losing all of your family, but also losing even that empty title and watching as the city you started to find your place in fall apart in blood. UGH! GAH! FEELS!

3) Kirkwall.

“ But, I beg you my dear readers, never forget that, no matter the subject of any story that might ever be explored between the cliffs of Kirkwall, She will find a way to steal the thunder of the protagonist. Or become the antagonist. Kirkwall is never a mere background. We could even understand it so: the challenge for you dear readers is to prevail against the smokescreens and observe to what extent our characters are players or played by the merciless black souled stone giant. Enjoy playing the dare of the ages between the lines of these humble memoirs. “

Memoirs from the Downfall - Act I. Mirage by Pfefferminze on ao3 (fic rec!)

This paragraph summs up what Kirkwall is better than I ever could. This shrouded mystery that surrounds Kirkwall keeps you on toes. From the first intro when Varric describes it (paraphrasing from memory) “Kirkwall. The city of chains. It is a free city - keeping in mind i use the the word loosely”. You already start seeing how dark Kirkwall gets. The name, that derives from its black walls (interestingly, the walls in the game aren’t black...), the history of slavery etched into every corner of that city and its surroundings - the names (The Gallows, the Bone Pit, the Wounded Coast, the pub The Hanged Man), the scenery (sculptures of slaves, the sunken ships by the Wounded Coast, slums and underground of the Lowtown and the Darktown).

I was really digging the History of Kirkwall and it loved it. Kirkwall has a history of violence, from the times of slavery of the Tevinter Imperium, to Qunari conquests and liberation from Orlais. Many revolts and uprising. And though free now, it’s suggested that, seeing that the Templars hold the most influence, Kirkwall is in the hands of the Chantry.

It’s full of cultures mixing together. I love how not one of your companions is a native to Kirkwall, and it feels like a crossroads to every character’s life. a very tragic crossroads in their life, seeing there’s nothing ever good waiting for you in Kirkwall.

Also there’s these codex entries you look for about the Enigma of Kirkwall. It was when i started digging that up that i fell in love with the city and all. Combined with the History of Kirkwall and every codex entry for every place in and out of Kirkwall, I was pulling my hair out reading about the Enigma. I..i’m still not quite sure what happened. Did the magisters use blood of thousands upon thousands slaves to unbound a forgotten one? if so, is that corypheus? And around what time did that happen?? I get that part (or all?) of Kirkwall’s mysterious violent agency is owed to corypheus slumbering relatively close to the city, but is that all? or is there something more? In either case, the Band of Tree are my heroes.

4) The characters.

I’ll talk more about them later, but in general, i just love how they oppose each other, how complex they are, and there is just not pleasing everyone. They feel genuine. They are all deeply flawed. They all have a solid background that makes their beliefs and actions convincing. The friendship/rivalry points are shaky though, and sometimes really don’t fit the character, but i guess there must be someone hating/loving your bad choices for the sake of the game regardless of characterisation. But all in all, i really appreciated each and every character, and loved how their viewpoints challenged me.

First i want a disclaimer: i love each and every character in the game, whatever i say against them doesn’t diminish my liking of them. My issues really aren’t significant. Also, i might and probably will say smth wrong bc i’ve only played it once. I’m a baby.

let’s start with Family:

Mama Hawke:

i really loved mama hawke. after reading her codex entry and an excerpt of some book on this site, i really feel for her. I mean, imagine going back to your home city where you only remember being respected and wealthy only to find out everything you remember is gone, you are forced to live in poverty, your kids are doing dangerous jobs and you can’t stop them bc you do need that money, you write letters trying to get the old connections but keep failing (at least it was implied?), it’s really been hard for her. I get why she was so obsessed with her legacy. She wanted her childhood home back. She can’t feel like Kirkwall is her home until she is home.

Also loved her antagonism towards Hawke. It seems she can no longer treat him like a child, so she criticises him instead. and honestly, hawke is doing some crazy things so he defintiely deserves some criticism. And stopping Hawke from taking carver with him is just logical to me, idk. since she knows she can’t stop Hawke from going, she will at least attempt to prevent the last kid from going into mortal danger. I’d do the same. AND AFTER HAVING CARVER DYING IN DEEP ROADS I AGREE WITH HER

All in all, i don’t think she’s a perfect mom, but there is no perfect mom, and Leandra does care a lot for her kids. The All that remains killed me too :’(

Bethany

RIP :(

Her codex is not long, but i guess she wasn’t happy with her magic :(

CARVER

My favouritest bestest bro in the game. A secondary character with an inferiority complex towards his sibling, with no sense of humour, blaming everyone else for his inability to get a life? I see a lot of myself in him. He is sooo bitter, but doesn’t even realise (or at least doesn’t admit) that he’s his biggest obstacle. He feels like it’s Hawke’s fault for Carver not getting his place in the sun, but honestly, it’s Carver’s devotion to Hawke that keeps him from getting a life. He’s just tied with that responsibility and can’t break from it unless forced to.

His interactions with other characters are so funny. Either he’s bitter or he’s awkward, i die every time ;;__;;

Anyways, he became a templar in my game and i thought it fits better thematically (throughout the game the grey wardens felt more like a fanservice material since they really aren’t connected to the story), but after reading that meta about carver and seeing the striking difference between warden!carver and templar!carver i wanna reload and redo everything ;;__;;

i mean... carver isn’t exactly a templar material. The codex entry for templars says that the wanted characteristics of templars are strong faith and utmost obedience, none of which carver really has... . But that moment when he stands up against meredith was *chefs kiss* worth it. I’m just wondering what happens after, is he still a templar? is he with hawke? is he in Kirkwall or if not, where did he go?? so many questions ;A;

Uncle Gamlen

I feel bad for him. Mostly he’s mean but i like to think it’s bc he’s so ashamed that his sister sees what he’s become. And he’s bitter about his own life. I was so happy when i realised he has a personal mission ;__; I feel bad that he didn’t come to live in the hawke estate tho, especially since Hawke is also alone there :(

COMPANIONS!

Varric

There are no words that can properly convey the amount of love for this guy. He is simply flawless. He’s a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia. I wanna have a charming godfather of the dwarven mafia in my life... He already becomes interesting with the intro, and i gotta say, out of all ~storyteller~ types of characters, he is the best. he puts a disclaimer at the beginning with that game tutorial, and during the whole interrogation he’s like “well, how do you know i’m not lying? i could be.” Also, his voice is the second best voice in the game.

As for his personal missions, oh wow, that thing with his big bro really hurt. I also gave him the red lyrium... was that a mistake? will i regret it? ;__; I know the true friend would prevent him, but i also trust that varric knows how to handle dangerous stuff...

On a side note, since i’ve read the comics (no self control whatsoever), i loved the beginning of the Until We Sleep, where varric mentions it’s easier to imagine all the people he had to kill were evil than to face the fact that those were normal people just doing their job or trying to survive. Man, it hurts TAT

*garret hawke’s voice when he looks a certain way at the family crest in the hawke estate* ISABELA!

Ok ok, so, i love Carver bc i relate, i love Varric because he’s simply perfect. But I love Isabela because she’s the most intriguing.

She just crashed in Kirkwall and really didn’t sign up for all the trouble she got. She never likes to have deep conversations, she is always downgrading herself and you just wonder, what is it that happened in her life, and you know her past mistakes haunt her, and she’s doing her best to move on. Her arc was i think my favourite. I think the comic Those Who Speak really adds a lot to her arc in DA2 and makes some of her choices more understandable. Her whole story is about her internal conflict of whether to survive or do the right thing. Her story about freeing the slaves got her ship wrecked is great and all for making her be a pirate with a golden heart, but that story about her drowning all the slaves few years previous make this freeing of slaves a big character moment for her. She finally did the right thing. And she got for it was more trouble, because she’s a pirate which means she can’t afford to just do the right thing. And throughout the game, that same story is going back and forth. She runs off with the Relic bc she’s done the right thing before and it got her nowhere, so now she decided to put her own survival as a priority, but comes back bc she’s too kind to just leave Hawke standing like that. And again, with the slaver papers, it’s the same reasoning: it’s her or the higher cause. She needs that ship. She chooses herself. It’s her biggest flaw. But hey, between pros and antis in your party, it was really refreshing to have someone who, along with varric, just gives you a break with moral high-grounds.

I only wish we actually got to see her more as a captain in power in the game or that she showed me that amazing hat she saw in lowtown. It’s cool that it’s implied that her crew doesn’t like her and she also lost most of them during the crash while the others probably left her after.

I love it when she says she goes sometimes to the docks just to watch the ships. That there is no feeling like sailing. I just want a spin-off with captain isabela’s terrible adventures (´A`)

Also, isabela’s VA is my fave, she really did an amazing job. she voices so smoothly, i wouldn’t know if i was playing a game or watching a movie. And has such a pretty way of talking...

Aveline

I’m really neutral towards Aveline. I like her personality and i like that she’s found herself a purpose and advanced in the guards, and she’s always looking out for everybody. I just wish her personal missions went in the vein of the one in act 1... i feel it would have been more interesting to see her having trouble in her position and that you can’t just waltz into Kirkwall and take command. It’s implied she’s being pressured, so i guess she’s just dealing with it herself, but i just... eh. She’s ok.

Merrill

Merrill actually has one of the if not the most tragic story-line that really challenges you both morally and emotionally.

Her cheerful and cute personality is dampened by her constant dark leitmotif of willingly practicing blood magic. And i think her story really showed well the indirect consequences of it.

Not in one instance was Merrill’s practice of blood magic an active culprit for all tragedy that surrounds her. First, it seems that blood magic is practiced in the clan, seeing there is no freeing Flemeth without it, but i’m guessing it’s seldom practiced and with great caution. So Merrill wasn’t in any danger of being prosecuted for her blood magic. It’s actually her wish to study it further with the help of the demon that makes her an outcast. That and the magic mirror that apparently is forgotten for a reason. Also, it’s made quite clear that Merrill would be welcomed back no questions asked if she at any point decided to ditch the demon and live without the study of magic mirror. She, on the other side, is driven by the higher cause, the idea that figuring out the forgotten purpose of some evil mirror might help her clan, and is willing to be an outcast if it means reaching her goal and helping her clan. Fast foward to act 3, the clan is still there when they should have moved away, and it’s only when you face the demon possessed Keeper, you realise why. She knew Merrill would sooner or later bargain with the demon again. And she sacrificed herself, trapping the demon within her, as to prevent it. And i think that is why the clan stayed so long there. She waited for Merrill because she wanted Merrill to kill her, and hopefully with her the demon. It didn’t go as planned, obviously, but i really think she had good intentions. When Merrill does manage to kill the Keeper she’s forced to face the clan and i chose the wrong option of telling the truth which resulted in a massacre. Merrill gets back and regrets everything. She, however resolves to help the alienage.

The thing is, there is no one to blame Everyone had the best intentions. Everyone is working for the safety of the clan. it’s a story of sacrifice and when sacrifice feels like the wrong choice (whether it truly is or isn’t depends on your worldview) and it’s really done well.

But here are my issues with Merrill. I love her as a character, but i don’t agree with her decisions. It’s a personal issue. Merrill is giving up everything as to help her clan by learning history of the evil mirror. And while this is a game where old things are important and significant, her mission is always explained as this duty of preserving history. And while i agree that preserving history is very important, there is a limit to it. you should never put history before the present. If your research endangers the present, you give up on that line. The other is that you need to make peace with the fact that many, many things are forgotten and will be forgotten. It’s sad, but you gotta make peace with the fact that some things are just gone.

And Merrill, who is a magic historian, fails to see that. So that kinda irks my historian moral codex. And in the end, as far as i know, Merrill doesn’t succeed in reviving the evil mirror and dedicates herself to help the alienage. It was a terrible way to learn that some things aren’t worth it.

The other, less personal issue, is that none of this had to happen. I mean, the keeper obviously didn’t think Merrill was experienced enough to actually deal with demons and therefore distrusted her and warned the clan about it. So, if Merrill was a little bit more patient she could have just studied normally under the keeper, and when she herself becomes the keeper, she could have fraternize with that demon however she wanted without much complications. So yeah... i guess youth is made of idealism.

But as i said, minor issues. Her story is really, really great.

Fenris

Fenris and Anders are my “i love you but i am soo annoyed by you but i still love you” characters. Half of the time they’re just there to make you feel guilty for being a neutral party. Which sometimes has me rolling my eyes. If Fenris and Anders actually got along with each other, slavery and mage oppression would have ended in 2 days. Which makes it all the more frustrating that they do not.

Fenris.. his voice. What a nice voice colour. So elegant, but kinda rough, sometimes he talks like he’s 80 years old, sometimes like he’s a teenager. I love it.

As for the rest, i mean, i don’t agree with his methods, but very often, the guy’s got a point. I get his experience with mages colours his view on them, so while i symphatise, it’s really hard to have him on my “free mages” missions when he’s my best tank and i want him to be on friendly terms with Hawke so this makes things... difficult. That aside, it’s interesting that fenris doesn’t see mages as evil per se, but rather victims who, in his experience, will always, always going to succumb to a demon. It’s an inevitable reality to him. And this makes me wonder if he ultimately, despite being his friend or lover, is just waiting for the day he will be forced to kill Hawke too :(

As for his missions, they were ok, it led up to culmination and i didn’t let him kill his sister bc Hawke has just lost his mom, don’t do smth you’ll regret ;__;

also, somewhere around the end of act 2 i decided to romance fenris bc i love to suffer, so i worked the whole act 3 trying to get more aproval points and also wondering why are there no romance options when i talk to him... turns out that one night stand with isabela romanced her and canceled fenris. But i never even finished the romance with her so i’m just ??? about it all.

I wish it was more explained about the tattoos fenris has? I just thought the tattoos would play a big role somewhere in the game and it just never happened. There was a banter with Merrill about how his tattoos are similar to valaslin, so i thought, hmm, interesting, maybe the two are connected. But nah they just glow in the dark and make you pass through walls. Whatevs.

also dude just goes and kills without a second thought, i’m just “mate, you gotta calm down”. But that’s his thing. He’s constantly bitter and is very bad at anger management. I can’t blame him, considering he lacks around 10- 20 years of experience due to amnesia.

He’s the only one who left me when Hawke sided with mages, and i was like, “ok i getcha, it’s been nice knowing you”, but then when i asked him to join me 5 minutes later he just went “ok changed my mind” which was so funny, like, where did all that integrity dissappear??? It would have been more impactful if the dialogue went in the line of “i want to stand by my principals but you’re a living breathing proof that not all mages are weak to succumb to demons so i’ll join you in the end” (and then side-eye “i told you so” when orsino turns into a demon)

And i wanna read the fenris comic now bc my question for every character here is what is their fate after kirkwall. I only know that isabela & varric are working for alistair and merrill wants to help the alienage. Aveline is i guess either dismissed from her job or got a pass after cullen took the command. But Carver?? Fenris?? Anders?? They never talked about long term plans...

Anders

ooh boy, here we go. there are many questions i have for him and am generally just hmmmm. First, as for his pro-mage rights - it’s like opposite fenris so i just have the same feelings: you mean well, i don’t agree with your methods, your experiences define your worldview so i let some things slide, but other things i will not agree with. Though, question: in how many circles has Anders been? He knows the kirkwall circle, he knows the fereldan circle. Seeing he has excaped 7 times, did they send him to a different circle each time or was the fereldan the last one? or the first one? Or maybe it was his boyfriend they transferred? did i miss something?

I’ll just whisper: awakening!Anders >>> da2!Anders. I just miss the old anders. Which says a lot bc during the awakening i was just “shut up anders”. I miss his bad jokes, his terrible attempts at flirting, his enjoyment of freedom, nagging all the time, and generally being more moderate in pro-mage rights. Like, in awakening, because it was not the only thing he talked about, it felt more personal and intense. Here mage-rights are the only thing he ever talks about + justice. I mean, please correct me if i’m wrong, this was just general impression. But to defend da2!Anders here, it makes sense that merging with mixed both of their personality, and i like that they did that. It’s also very sad.

The thing is, when i’m thinking about anders, i love his story and character. Just as it’s terrible that Fenris, having no memory from before being Fenris, Anders can never go back to being just Anders. And this, people, is why you don’t fraternize with spirits. He’s obviously afraid of how justice is affecting him and there are some bare traces of his old personality and i guess he wouldn’t be as radical if he didn’t have justice personality that can’t stand the injustice. And in combination with anders quite selfish personality (form awakening, and i say that lovingly), it makes him do things that justice wouldn’t condone. Anders is literally a walking bomb.

Again, same problem as with fenris, i really thought that the justice glow would have a incredibly significant culmination, and it didn’t, it was just to show that anders and justice are very bitter. Eh, ok.

Also, i let anders join after he blew up the chantry, bc he started it, so might as well follow it through.

Some minor characters that i remember

Senechal Bran for the next Viscount! He hated hawke so much but still put up with him.

Feynriel is the coolest mage in Kirkwall. I think his missions were my favourite. Dude goes from “oh no i’m a mage” to “i will just dreamwalk to tevinter and learn control the reality” to “i dream-killed bad people from thousands of miles away”. Does he appear in the next game? I want him on my side. He’s so cool.

I think the Maker is sending Cullen signs to quit being a templar. First job: evil mages that tortured you. Instead of “this job will kill you” h took it as a “never trusting mages again, got it”. Second job: your boss is evil possessed paranoid maniac. Man, talk about bad luck.

What is the story of the Lady Elegant?

Flemeth had that big great talk at the beginning of the game and i thought by the end of the game i’d realise what it meant, but nope, still no clue.

Ok so I defeated Corypheus, but there was this looong shot of Larius walking away. Corypheus possessed larius, didn’t he? He’s out there. In a madman’s body. I know he appears in inquisition.

Many thoughts

I gotta say, in Kirkwall, at least, it didn’t feel like much of a challenge to pick a side. Like, there was no mage who said “hey i actually really like it here in the circle, the templars aren’t so bad”, and having templars actually smuggling mages from the circle says a lot to say the least. Every time a mage talks to you, unless you go with “oh they’re 100% lying”, their stories invoke sympathy and of course you want to help them. And then in 99% cases they turn to blood magic bc there was no other way. Except that dude who always hanged out with the wrong people, he only did blood magic to save Carver. But yeah, that turning to blood magic was like having Fenris side-eye me with an unspoken “i told you so” bc every mage, whether in desperation or hunger for power, will turn sooner or later into a demon. Regardless, blood magic was always in the act of desperation and self-defense. The only times where magic was actually evil was the slavers and the serial killer, who is a madman.

When i was reading the Enigma of Kirkwall, there was a part that talks of a blood-mage conspiracy and i was all, oh shit, there is a reason why templars are mean to mages! maybe the conspirators are framing innocent mages on blood magic crimes that they actually commit, maybe Meredith is actually on trail of the conspirators, maybe there is a reason for animosity on both sides. After all, Kirkwall was known for having a bigger number of apostates, a bigger number of blood magic cases and far more ruthless templars. It added up.Thinking back now, i never even got any specific reason why meredith was so intensely anti-mage, other than going mad.

But yeah, no conspirators. Just sad mages and mean templars, and good templars that get screwed by desperate and mean mages.

While in Kirkwall it’s easy to be a pro-mage, i was thinking a lot about mage-rights in general so let me indulge myself: there are circles, but the mages aren’t oppressed. Rather, the circles would be educational centres and society in every larger city where one learns how to properly handle magic bc magic is dangerous. You can leave when you pass the final exam and also come back anytime to hang out with mages who decide to live there since the institution would support mages.

Also, when one gets possessed, i’d invest more into “walk into their head and free them of demons” specialists. It’d be cool if you could have a dreamer who does that bc no lyrium spent. Honestly, why don’t they ever do that? How did the keeper do that rite for Feynriel? Was it blood magic?

I guess, you’d still have to answer for your crimes, tho no death punishment and degradation allowed. Blood magic wouldn’t be punishable by death, but rather have specialists who study it, but practice with extreme caution and use of another person’s blood is strictly prohibited.

Templars would still exist but completely reformed. No more “mages are all potential disasters”, but i’d rather make it that mages can too be templars, since they both have abilities that prevents the others from casting magic. This way the control system would be much like the dalish: if the keeper(mage) is possessed, the clan (which means the non-mages and the first(mage)) need to kill them. You could argue that you don’t need templars as non-mages, since mages can do it too, but seeing that in general people fear magic and feel inferior to it (since there’s a collective memory of the great tevinter imperium), having non-magic specialists would make them feel like on equal ground. The extra-reformed templars would be under Circle, not under direct command of the chantry, and circle, depending of whether chantry is reformed, might or might not be under chantry.

(a side note, i was thinking about templars recently and i can’t recall an instance where it says who had the clever idea to chew lyrium first? i just wanna know)

I know that DA2 wasn’t about grey wardens and therefore not about darkspawn, but seeing as in legacy we get corypheus being... an evil version of the Architect(??), i was only wondering do we get more answers about the darkspawn? is there hope for them? is the Architect still alive?

And oh, to turn to the Anders question:

Is he a terrorist, or was that just activism? I mean, i don’t see why those two can’t go together. blasting a building with a symbolic significance killing and harming many innocent people to get a message of your radical activism across belongs into a schoolbook of terrorism. Does he have a good cause? He sure believes so, and i, too, agree that mages should not be oppressed for just being mages. But does that mean this is the right way to do it? Personally, i do not condone any act of violence in service of a political or religious cause. I know it’s sometimes inevitable, but i like to believe there are more diplomatic ways, or at least not including an attack on civilians.

That aside, the moment where anders goes in front and just announces that the church was gonna blow up in a minute was the best anders moment for me. Until that point i more or less just viewed his activism as a hobby since he just did it in his free time, but now he put his money where his mouth is and freaking went all out. Cool character moment. And incredibly heartwrenching. He was aware of how many innocents he killed, but just didn’t see other way to get the point across.

I still don’t agree with his idea of blowing up the church tho. Maybe if he told Hawke, they could have done something to empty the church previously and further people away from it and then blow it up?

But still, blowing up religious buildings isn’t the answer. If i was the radical mage activist, i would have gone for the open assassination. Seeing it worked in WW1, i don’t see why it couldn’t start a fantasy war.

Some random things i liked:

uniportant but lovable interractions in the house: it starts innocently with gamlen’s house, to see how you’re doing, and becomes really fun during act 2 when you see your friends have been here and left you things. In act 3, however, it feels melancholic. no more family to come back to, just ghosts of friends that have visited, Bodahn and Sandal being there for you, Orana still not getting some sunlight and your dog at the fireplace. The Hawke Family Suite is playing, and you feel older than you are, lonlier than you should be. just... ouch. I hope Bodahn adopted Orana and took her out of Kirkwall :(

t i named the dog “Maker” which is very funny to me bc every time i summon the dog i just imagine Hawke yelling “Maker help us”. Carver hates the name bc he needs to chase the dog often in the streets. Mama Hawke never ever calls the dog Maker, but she never has to call the dog anything: he’s super obedient towards her.

Fighting wasn’t as hard as in origins, i like that.

The haunted house mission was so cool.

When random people greet aveline in Hightown.

And that’s i think about it. There are probably plenty more things i loved, but i think this is already enough. if somebody told me i’d be playing so much this year, i’d laugh, but I already want to play the next game ;;___;;

#don't klick keep reading if you aren't ready to scroll endlessly #a very long post #in which i:#love everything #stan carver #cry over fictional characters #need a romance manual #form political opinions in a fictional game #give a random fic rec that is so worth your time #if you've read this you're a hero and i'm sorry #da2 #spoilers for those who plan to play #it took me a week to write this god

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daysswithyou · 4 years

Text

Fallen Chapter 25: Done deal

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Warning!: Cursing and swearing

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The moment Younghyun got the notification and saw the video – the first person he thought of was you. Not Ayeon whom he wanted to ruin, not about his reputation that’s been tarnished – but you.

You who must be hurting now because of him,

You who must be forced to relive your nasty breakup with Jaebeom,

You who must have lost all your faith in him.

And that last part scared him the most. He can’t lose you now, not when he’s grown to love you. You’ve made him feel safe, loved and cherished – and you deserved to feel the same way with someone that knew how to truly love you. Yet… he failed to give you that. Pushing his crippling thoughts to the back of his mind, Younghyun set off in search of you, dialling your number repeatedly only to be met with a voicemail message. He expected as much – you were probably too angry to hear him out. He tried dialling the entire team – those that picked up either did not know where you were, or he was sent straight to voicemail again. Younghyun was getting desperate, until he overheard conversation from Mr Kim as he was passing by the lobby.

“Rachel Hwang? Yes, that’s my student. She’s at the Sacred Hearts Hospital with Esther and Jae Park? Thank you, I will head over immediately to check on her and inform her guardian.”

Before Mr Kim turned to face Younghyun, Younghyun was already running towards the hospital. He remembered seeing it on the way to the resort, it’s not far from here… he’ll be able to reach you shortly. But how on earth did you end up in the hospital?

---

Younghyun burst through the doors of the hospital and bumped into a few people in the process, hastily throwing apologies over his shoulders as he earned a few scowls from the staff. He reached the front desk counter and slapped a hand on the counter for support as he gulped in large breaths of air. The sound startled the service staff behind the desk, and they raised their eyebrows at Younghyun for the poor impression that he’s made.

Straightening his back and looking into the eyes of the service staff – whom looked thoroughly pissed at him by the way – Younghyun finally got his question out.

“Rachel Hwang… I’m here to see her.”

“Patient confidentiality sir. Unless you can prove that you’re her family, I cannot give you this information.”

“I’m- I’m her boyfriend. I know the friends she came with, Jae Park and Esther. Mr Kim is my teacher.”

The service staff deemed that information enough to let Younghyun through.

“Level 2, room 208.”

“Thank you!”

Without even waiting for a reply from the service staff, Younghyun bounded up the steps two at a time, not even bothering to wait for the lift.

---

Jae left the room for a short while to get drinks for himself and Esther. Esther too had cried herself dry once Rachel was fast asleep and she needed to replenish the fluids lost. As he waited for the vending machine to finish dispensing the bottled water, Jae heard the sound of someone frantically climbing up the steps. He wondered who on earth was causing such a huge commotion in a hospital and when his head turned, the bottled water was forgotten as Jae rushed forward to stop Younghyun from entering the room. Younghyun didn’t see Jae coming – too focused on getting to you – and he only felt someone slam into him, and the impact sent him stumbling back a few feet. He was about to swear at whoever blocked him but the words promptly died in his throat when he realised that it was Jae.

“Jae, how is she? I’m going to see Rachel now, talk later.”

Younghyun attempted to move past Jae but Jae held him in place by the collar of his shirt. Jae’s eyes stared dead into Younghyun’s, his eyes looking like 2 bottomless pits.

“Jae, what are you doing? Let go of me, I need to see her now.”

“No. If you go in there now, Esther will beat you into a pulp and I will not save you.”

“I swear, it’s not what you think it is, which is why I have to explain myself.”

“Explain it to who? To fuming mad Esther that will no longer listen to you? Or an unconscious Rachel that cannot even hear you?”

“Rachel… is… unconscious?”

“Yes, it’s that bad. You better come with me and hide yourself, don’t let Esther see you. I’ve never seen her so angry in my life.”

With a hand still on Younghyun’s collar, Jae dragged Younghyun into a quiet stairwell, making sure that the door is shut tight before turning to Younghyun.

“Brian, what the hell was that video all about? Do you know how badly that affected Rachel? I never thought someone could look that… broken. We found her bloodied and bruised, and she literally cried herself unconscious due to the exhaustion. Do you know that you really… broke her heart?”

Younghyun’s heart clenched at Jae’s words – not only were you emotionally hurt, but physically ruined as well. Who hurt you? He caused you pain, but worse still, he could not protect you from the harm or ease your pain. His voice wavered when he tried to speak, but the words came out eventually.

“What happened to her? How did she get all bloodied and bruised?”

“We don’t know. She did not have enough energy to tell us before she passed out. That aside, you and Ayeon… are you really back… with her? After all that she’s done to you?”

Jae spat out Ayeon’s name like it was some vile venom, fearing what the younger would say next. If Younghyun was really back with Ayeon, Jae would first, whack the younger on the head and second, lose all faith in him forever.

“No, of course not. I’m never going back to Ayeon. That video was a mistake. I did it to protect Rachel. Ayeon threatened to buy over the café unless I gave her what she wanted… I couldn’t see Rachel’s hard work all go to waste so I agreed. But I swear nothing happened.”

“You two really did not…”

“No Jae, we didn’t. Almost, but no. I rather stab myself a thousand times over than commit to that act with her. Whatever you saw in that video was as far as we went. I didn’t even place my hands on her until she grabbed them and forced them upon herself. But I broke it off immediately because I felt too disgusted to carry on. I worried that Ayeon would really come for Rachel because I didn’t keep to the agreement. But I guess that really wasn’t her goal all along.”

“Clearly it wasn’t. She just needed the video to make her story convincing, and you sent yourself right into the tiger’s den. How stupid can you be? ”

“I know Jae, I know! I know I messed up and I feel stupid, but I was left with no choice. Berating me now isn’t going to help with damage control. But I swear Jae, you have to believe me. I’m really not back with Ayeon, and I have no intentions to.”

Jae sighed deeply before running a hand across his face.

“Brian, you don’t get it.”

“What am I missing?”

“This isn’t about me, it isn’t about you. It’s about you and Rachel, it’s about her, what the both of you have. It doesn’t matter if I believe you. She has to believe you and be the one to forgive you. If not…”

Jae doesn’t have to complete the sentence for Younghyun to know what he’s referring to.

“I understand.”

“Good. Leave and don’t come back. Don’t go back to Rachel until she asks to see you again. If you force her to see you, she’ll just hate you more.”

“But I need to – ”

“I’ll inform you when she’s awake and I’ll update you on her progress – just so you know that she’s alright. Don’t let Esther see you as well, I don’t know when her anger will subside.”

“Got it, thanks Jae…”

“Good, now leave Brian.”

Jae clapped Younghyun on the shoulder before returning to the room. Any longer and Esther might raise suspicions. Younghyun heard Jae greeting Mr Kim outside the stairwell as Jae led Mr Kim to the room. Meanwhile, Younghyun has got other business to attend to.

More specifically, someone.

---

Younghyun bade his time waiting for Ayeon outside her room, his eyes practically searing holes into her room. He smelt her sickeningly sweet perfume before he felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to shudder and rip her hands off him. This was thoroughly revolting.

Placing her lips by his ear, she whispered seductively: “Hey handsome.”

Ok that’s it. In one swift movement, Younghyun jerked his head away from her, now towering over her as he straightened his back.

“Phone.”

“You aren’t even going to greet me, Brian? Tsk, how rude.”

“I won’t ask twice.”

Without another word, Younghyun lunged for Ayeon’s phone that was currently resting in the palm of her hands and he got it with ease.

“What the hell Brian! Stop what you’re doing!”

Driven by sheer determination, Brian did what he came to do whilst ignoring all her advances and yells. Scrolling through her phone, Brian found the video with ease, and permanently deleted all traces of the video from her phone and the school app. But he wasn’t quite done yet.

“Why did you do that?”

“I want my phone back back first.”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION AYEON!”

Younghyun roared, certain that the entire building could hear him with the sheer volume that he was using. He didn’t care if people took more photos and videos to ruin his reputation – it was already tarnished enough, and he could care less about what others thought of him. Ayeon, clearly shaken by his fierce side that she had never seen before, tried to put up a strong front but Youghyun could see through it. He could see her pupils shaking, hear her voice wavering. Ayeon was all bark, but no bite. To think that he once genuinely liked her – if he ever saw his younger self now, he would have punched that bastard for having such deplorably poor taste and disgusting naivety.

“You want answers? Fine! If I can’t have you, no one will. You are mine, and mine only.”

Ayeon attempted to grab Younghyun’s collar but he slapped her hands away harshly. He would no longer be controlled by her. Younghyun scoffed at her words, he really couldn’t believe his ears anymore. Who still said such words – in this day and age?

“Listen clearly, and you better remember it well. You will never have me – not now, and not ever again in the future. You might have had my heart once but not anymore. You ruined me – ”

To prove his point, Younghyun brings Ayeon’s phone up to his face, and he heard the screen crack from the sheer force of his fingers.

“And you have the audacity to ask for me back? How shameless can you be Ayeon? You don’t damage someone then come asking for their forgiveness by hurting them again. You’ve only known how to do bad things in your life – you take advantage of them, hurt them and ruin them. You shouldn’t be allowed to do that anymore.”

With no warning whatsoever, Younghyun swung his hand back and launched Ayeon’s phone out of the window. Both watched as the phone got smashed into smithereens once it collided with the pavement – Younghyun with a stoic face and Ayeon with a look of horror on her face as she watched her new phone disintegrate into pieces. She just bought it before the trip… Turning to him with barely contained rage, she began to yell profanities at him.

“Fuck you Brian! FUCK YOU!”

Brian regarded her outburst with an expressionless face – the face of a men that truly had zero care for her. He might have been scared of her once – but not anymore, and never again. Dropping his lips to her ear, Younghyun sneered.

“Remember this feeling. Remember it forever. This is what it felt like when you thrashed my apartment that night months ago – small, insignificant, afraid. This phone is just a warning. The next time you lay your hands on Rachel, or anyone else that I care for, it’ll be more than just your phone that’s getting destroyed.”

Ayeon is left paralysed with fear at his words. Without waiting for Ayeon to grace him with a response, Younghyun walked away from the scene before he lost all control and potentially did something that he regretted. His phone buzzed in his pocket – a message from Jae:

Hey man, she’s awake. Doc said she’s doing well, still a little shaken though. Don’t come over yet, just wait till she’s willing to see you.

And so Younghyun waited. But that day never came.

For the rest of the trip, Younghyun was left with no way to contact you given that your phone was spoilt. You spent it cooped up in your room, keeping yourself entertained with a book that you brought along with you – thankfully. If you had to leave the room, Esther was always with you so Younghyun would have no chance to talk to you. You wouldn’t even spare him a glance, and Esther was still sending him death glares. It was frustrating, but he would have to wait longer. You however… had no intention of ever forgiving him or talking to him again. After all, you didn’t need confirmation to know that you’ve already broken up – it was plain for all to see.

The deal was long over before you knew it even was.

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thescarletsith · 4 years

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I can only hope that this helps those who felt pain when finding out about the end of Rise of Skywalker. It was never about Kylo Ren getting what he deserved or seeking redemption, it was about ending the pain within Ben Solo. I had to find some sort of positive reasoning behind all of this before witnessing it for myself tonight.

SPOILERS AHEAD.

Any negative reason given for why Ben Solo deserved to die isn't convincing, because Ben didn't do any of those things.

He was born into a family of Legends; expectations were set for him before he could even talk. The truth of his grandfather was hidden from him by his family. Facts of his bloodline would have given him insight as to why he felt the way he did, but they were kept away from him, leaving him to feel completely alone with a growing pain inside of him that he couldnt confide with anyone about. His whole family was painted as a perfect, lightside, good guy team. Saviors. Warriors. Heroes. Legends. So how could it be possible for him to feel the conflict that he was trying to hide? He would never be good enough or strong enough to belong to this family. He grew up feeling worthless to his parents who were always gone. The only place he could find self-worth was the darkness reaching out to him, wanting to help him and show him how to end his pain. But he didn't want help, he wanted to do it on his own. He wanted to push through and make his family proud. And when he learned the truth about his grandfather being Darth Vader, (a truth which he learned through the government his mother worked with, NOT from his own family) the teachings of Jedi being good, peaceful people became a joke to him. Good people don't lie. Good people don't turn a blind eye to the suffering of someone they claim to love for the sake of their own desire of not having to address something they'd rather forget. And good people own up to their mistakes - they try to right their wrongs.

Nobody did that for Ben. They saw a darkness in him and chose to fear it instead of face it. They chose to train him and raise him to be what they considered "good". They chose to invade his thoughts during his sleep and make of it what they wanted, deciding on their own that he was destined to belong to darkness no matter what measures they took to prevent that from happening.

Ben saw Luke standing above him with every intention to murder him. So Ben defended himself, disabling Luke from hurting him. The emotions he was constantly burying pushed through to the surface - his own fear, loneliness, anger, and confusion. He had done everything asked of him. On the outside, he was everything they were trying desperately to create and yet... he still wasnt good enough.

And those voices that had been with him since he was born called to him to go and find his true ally - the one who would make him as strong and fearless as Darth Vader.

When the light betrayed Ben Solo, the darkness welcomed him with open arms. It comforted him, embraced him, and accepted him, thus rising the darkness that Ben Solo tried desperately to run from.

Kylo Ren, who was birthed from his parents carelessness towards him and his uncle's betrayal, killed Ben Solo. And though Kylo still felt the same as Ben, he was now being given what he believed to be genuine help to forever end the pain.

And that's all he ever really wanted.

He was manipulated into believing everything he was doing would eventually bring him the peace he craved. He was convinced what he was doing what was right. He was told that the darkness would give him all of the things his family never even attempted to. The dark side became the good side and the Jedi didnt deserve to exist anymore.

He's told that killing his past will allow him to become who he's always been meant to be, and since he has no idea who that is, he's willing to do whatever he has to in order to figure it out.

Then he meets Rey, who makes him realize Ben Solo isn't really dead and that Kylo Ren is just a mask he wears.

Then Rey defeats him in a duel, wielding his families lightsaber. What a slap in the face. Some random girl from a desert planet who has never trained her Force abilities, never really even knew she had these abilities until she met him, was never directly involved with any Jedi, and totally naive to everything she was able to do that he was put through hell and back to learn, just beat him with his own families weapon.

And instead of being sympathized with by the person who swore to help him since he was a kid, he's spit on about it. He was told none of the others ever faced such a task like he would when encountering his own father and by killing his father, reguardless of how he truly felt about it, he expected praise for doing what was suggested to have been the hardest thing he would ever have to do to prove himself worthy, yet he's spit on about it. He's back in the same neverending loop of being a disappointment.

His family saw darkness inside of him and the darkness saw his family inside of him. He couldn't win with either side.

So the Force gave him someone else to turn to, connecting him to this girl he should hate, but felt no hatred whatsoever towards. Instead, he was intrigued by their bond, impressed by her strength, and comforted in the realization that he found someone who felt exactly as he did. He ignored her threats, her doubt, her insults and her disgust towards him because he understood it: Ben Solo felt the same way about Kylo Ren.

He saw so much of himself before his turn to darkness in Rey and wanted to be for her what nobody was brave enough to be for him.

He knew that the only restraint she had on becoming what she longed to be was her inability to let go of a past she didnt need. He saw her strength, potential, determination and hope when she didn't see herself as anything. If he wanted to coax her with him inside of a life of never ending pain, he wouldn't tell her to kill her past, the thing that caused her pain, he would tell her to embrace it, allow it to consume her and feed off the power that pain could give. Her fear of accepting that any family she had is dead was the only source of darkness inside of her - it was her greatest weakness. He tells her of his own families betrayal as a means to say having a family isn't always what she's convinced herself it is. And he's so aggressive about it because he envies her: she has no one determining her path for her. She is free to be whoever she pleases and would face no judgement about it, and yet for some reason she aches to belong to someone.

And she eventually sees him for who he really is; the person inside of him that he's been silencing because he knows he could never go back to that life. She has seen him murder in cold blood, she has felt his conflict, she knows for certain all the horrible things he has done, yet still tells him that it isnt too late, showing him the hope she has in him - a hope he was never shown even before he committed the terrible acts he's done. There in his darkest of days, he's finally found that one person who accepts him, and he has absolutely nothing to offer her.

Still, she goes to him to save him from the darkness that has always been there and because of that, he is able to kill the thing he rightfully assumed was trapping him in that darkness.

He doesnt want to belong to any group, he doesn't want to set himself up to fail again, but he wants to be with this girl and keep the feeling of validation she gives him. So he pleads for her to allow everything to end so that they could start a new order - a new life - together. But she doesn't view it the same way he does. She wants him to go back with her, to the light, but the light already rejected him. He doesn't belong there, even if he wanted to.

There's no common ground then, and she leaves him.

The emotions he is left with cause him to feel the dominant presence of the darkness he had rightfully assumed he killed, and he goes on a rampage, deciding he will end it all himself, only then to be stopped by the single person who's doubts towards him hurt the most. Surely killing his uncle would be the way to end his internal war...

But again, he was wrong.

He sees no other option now but to consume himself in his own misery, and uses his new title as Supreme Leader to cause as much death and despair as he's endured his whole life.

He figures out why his conflict exists when he learns from Lord Sidious that all of the voices he has heard were simply from Sidious.

And Kylo becomes a puppet for the dark side once more, tasked to kill Rey and destroy all Jedi once and for all.

So Kylo faces Rey again, senses his mother's death, nearly dies by Rey's hand, faces his father within that near death, then awakens by a Force ability used by Rey to heal him.

Knowing that Rey should have left him to die but didnt pushes him to help her end a war he helped create. He destroys his own Knights and stands beside Rey in the light to defeat their common enemy. While fighting along side her now, he feels whole. He feels like he has found where his destiny lies. And her small grin, her gleaming eyes of hope as she looks at him, prove that she feels the same way.

During the battle, he is thrown into a pit by their enemy, leaving Rey to fight alone. The physical injuries Kylo sustains in no way hold him back from trying to get back to her. He acknowledges his pain and he accepts it; he doesn't let it physically or mentally hold him back. He doesn't let it control him. And as he climbed despite the pain and weakness he felt as he did it, he accepts his past, and he rids himself of it. He accepts his parents distance from him, his uncles betrayal, the darknesses deceit and his ignorance to the truth. He accepts himself for who he is, what he has done, and where he comes from, because none of it mattered to him anymore. He needed to make sure he hadnt failed Rey the same way people always failed him. He needed to be sure she wasnt pulled to the darkness by her own bloodline. He needed to make sure she was safe, help her end this, and see where they may be able to go from here.

Ben Solo made it back to the surface, leaving Kylo Ren in the darkness of the pit.

But he was too late.

He fell to ground, pulling Rey into his arms. Pain returned to him, only now it was much worse. He has nothing. He has nobody else. He gave his life to the darkside because he trusted it and then he lost everything and everyone he ever loved because of it.

Looking at her lifeless eyes caused Ben to lose any hope for himself he may have had left. He knew Rey had so many people who would mourn her death, cry over her, need her, miss her...

No one would do the same for him.

It wasnt hard for him to find the strength to do what he had to do. He didn't even hesitate.

Through the Force, he gave all that was left of him to the only person he felt truly accepted it - it was all he had left to offer. A descendant of one of the most feared Sith Lords became a source of hope for so many, and was a light too pure to let fade.

Ben was able to accept his life and feel total peace within it when he felt Rey's hand hold onto his. Her smile when she saw him, the joy when she said his name, and the thrill when she kissed him allowed him to feel a happiness he would have otherwise never been able to feel. His own smile felt foreign to him, but he was thankful to feel it one last time.

He was thankful to pass away while in the arms of someone who cared for him. Thankful to have been able to make use of a life that never felt like his.

Ben Solo did not die as a legend. His sacrifice would be seen by others as an act of redemption, though Rey knew he didn't save her for that reason. He never felt as if he needed to seek ways to redeem himself for the damage he had done, because he was always lead to believe he was doing what was right.

Ben Solo was simply saving what he loved, and he was finally free of his pain.

#spoilers #rise of skywalker #ben solo #kylo ren #star wars #rey

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ What You Deserve (Doyoung Kim)

Genre: Dark, Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 3,421 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Kim Doyoung ☁

World: NCT ☁

WARNING: This fic contains self-harm, attempted suicide and talks about depression. Read at your own risk.

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You’re not sure when it started, or how or why. It felt like it had been with you for most of your life. Maybe it started in high school where you spent every day being bullied and abused by your fellow students. At that time, your only bit of sanity was with your best friend, Johnny, but he had started to pull away from you.

Not on purpose, you knew. He had a dream that he was working hard towards achieving, but… in doing so, you began to fade away. Since you were children, Johnny had always been the anchor that kept you from floating away while also being the one that kept your head above water.

When he moved to Korea, you started to drown and didn’t know how to save yourself.

You had convinced yourself that everyone hated you and that you were only a burden to those around you. Johnny did his best to keep in touch as much as possible, which kept you going for a while. As bad as you never wanted it to end, you knew that it would.

Johnny had achieved his dream, debuting with a group called NCT 127 and they were quickly climbing the latter of popularity. He started to have less and less time for you until, finally, he stopped contacting you altogether. Four months passed without so much as a text saying, ‘hi’.

It had finally happened. Johnny realized that you were just a broken burden and decided to move on with his life. He forgot all about the needy, depressed little Y/N. That’s what you convinced yourself of.

You couldn’t take it anymore – the pain, the self-hate, the torment. It was all too much for you to face alone. With the weight of the world on your shoulders, you made up your mind.

You were going to kill yourself.

When Friday rolled around, your father left for his business trip, unaware of the plans his child had.

A bad storm had rolled in out of nowhere that night. Thunder shook the building as rain violently pounded the Earth. It was like the gods themselves were angry.

It comforted you in a weird way.

You lit a candle, setting it on the bathroom sink so you could see what you were doing. The power had been knocked out after a rather violent gust of wind knocked a palm tree into the power lines. This set everything into motion as the power line sparked, setting the palm tree on fire.

Unaware of the chaos outside, you slipped into the bathtub, your clothes getting heavy as they absorbed the water. Your eyes scanned your forearms, scanning the scars that littered your skin.

Even in the dull lighting, you could see each one perfectly. The old and the new, mingling together. Your finger traced them, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you remembered each one. Every single scar held a painful memory and you were cursed with remembering each one as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

Your hand shook as you picked up the razor blade.

This was it. All of your pain and suffering, all of the blood and suffering… it had all lead you to this moment. It was finally going to end. You were finally going to find peace.

So why were you hesitating? Why did you feel fear?

The metal rested against your wrist, making small cuts in your skin since you couldn’t steady your hand. ‘This is for the best’, you tried to convince yourself. ‘When I die, dad won’t have to work so hard to pay for my medical bills. He won’t stress himself over me. He can move on with his life and find the happiness he deserves. I… I have to do this!’

Lightning lit up the darkness as you screamed out, ripping the blade across your skin harder than you ever had before. Blood started to pour from the wound, dropping into the water and turning it an ugly faded red.

You slid down in the tub as the wound started to sting, your body shaking. Whether it was from your sobbing or from the pain, you didn’t know.

BANG BANG BANG.

Your ears faintly picked up the sound of pounding on the front door. Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway followed by the cries of children. It sounded hazy to you like you were dreaming.

“Open up, there’s a fire in the building!” The banging continued. “We’re coming in!”

You heard the door slam open and several pairs of feet rushed into the apartment.

Everything went black.

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Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

A hoarse groan passed your lips as the insistent beeping disturbed your sleep. Eyes sliding open, you blinked a few times before it focused on the white ceiling above you. ‘Am I… dead?’, you wondered, forcing yourself to sit up.

The room was dark, lit up only by the lights of the heart monitor you were connected to. It was still raining, reduced to a soft pitter-patter against the window. The whiteboard on the wall bore the date, Tuesday.

It was clear that your attempt had failed. You eyed the thick bandage around your wrist. The only thing you could think about was the medical bills your father would have to pay.

‘I can’t even kill myself properly…’

The door creaked open and a woman you didn’t recognize entered the room. Your first instinct was that she was a nurse, but you soon realized that she was wearing a Victorian style dress.

Squinting through the darkness, you noticed something dripping from her hands. It was blood, splattering against the linoleum. All other sounds disappeared except for the dripping.

“Wh-Who are you?” You stuttered out, feeling your body tense. You knew something wasn’t right.

The woman started to laugh, low and vacant of humor. It gradually increased in volume until it filled the room.

You could feel terror taking over you as you scrambled back, your finger repeatedly smashing the nurse call button. The speaker behind the bed beeped as it normally would, but instead of getting a nurse you only heard the laughter coming through the static.

The woman moved closer, her bare feet slapping against the floor. “Selfish child,” she muttered.

You stumbled back off the bed, tripping over the various wires and tubes connected to your body. Hitting the floor hard, you winced as the IV was ripped from your arm. Within seconds, the woman was on top of you, her bloody hands wrapped tight around your throat.

Her eyes were wild and bloodshot. “Selfish child! Selfish child!” She kept repeating the same two words, voice growing louder with each repetition until she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “SELFISH CHILD!”

You couldn’t breathe, struggling to push her off but your hand went through her body like she wasn’t there.

Dots of black started to cloud your vision until you were completely cloaked in darkness.

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You shot up in bed, feeling your body enveloped in a cold sweat. Your hand grabbed your throat as you gasped for breath. Warmth surrounded your body and soft words were spoken into your ear. You couldn’t understand what was being said, but they did their job and slowly you started to calm.

A hand gripped your own and you looked up, meeting eyes with your dad. Almost instantly, you looked away from him, unable to face the tears that clung to his cheeks. You looked to your left, where the warmth was coming from, and you felt your body tense up again.

“J-Johnny?”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he held them back with a smile, breathing out deeply as he spoke. “Hey… how are you feeling?” His voice was rough, a clear indication that he had been crying.

“Why are you here?” You hadn’t meant for it to sound so rude, but last time you checked, he was in a different country living the life he wanted.

“What a stupid question,” he laughed, ruffling your hair like he always used to do when you were upset. “I came to make sure you were alright.”

You moved your gaze to the white cotton covering your body. There were so many thoughts and emotions rushing through your body that you felt completely overwhelmed. Anger, pain, guilt, confusion… they swirled together in the pit of your stomach.

Johnny knew you were about to start crying, his eyes flicking to the heart monitor as the rate increased. “Are you hungry? The hospital food sucks, and we’re not technically allowed to bring outside food in for patients, but your nurse is a big fan of NCT so I can probably get her to ignore it. There’s a Taco Bell not too far from here, I know it’s your favorite!”

You could only nod, not trusting your voice.

“Stay here, Johnny. I’ll go and get it.” Your dad announced, giving you a soft peck on the cheek before leaving the room. He knew that he couldn’t comfort you, despite how bad he wanted to. That’s why he made the decision that he did. You knew he felt like a failure as a father and you felt overwhelmed by guilt.

Johnny shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “I brought one of the members with me. He’s really smart, reliable and loves white chocolate.” He paused, mentally slapping himself. Surely after attempting suicide, you didn’t care about conversing with someone about chocolate. “He’s right down the hall, I’ll go grab him.”

When he left the room, you lifted your eyes to the whiteboard. It sat in the exact same place as it had in your dream and the date scrawled on was the same – Tuesday.

‘What was that dream?’, you couldn’t help but wonder. Even the rain was the same, gently sliding down the glass. ‘I was trying to make life easier for everyone, but I’m a selfish child?’

Johnny re-entered the room with another boy. The thing that stuck out the most was his rich blue hair. “This is Doyoung, he’s one of our vocalists. Doyoung, this is Y/N, my best friend.”

You winced at the words. Could you even consider yourself still his friend after all this? Must less his best friend. Surely he had found someone more suitable to the title within his new group.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Doyoung spoke politely in accented English, bowing slightly in respect. He was uncomfortable, feeling like he was intruding on something extremely personal, but Johnny had requested that he come along for support, and that was a request that he couldn’t deny.

The rest of the day was spent with the three men trying to make you smile, at the very least, but you just weren’t in the mood. It was strange – you wanted to be left alone but… at the same time, you didn’t want to be alone.

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You were stuck in the hospital for observation for the next week. Both Johnny and Doyoung stayed with you, allowing your dad to get some rest and go to work. On the day of your release, you and Doyoung waited near the front of the hospital while Johnny ran over to the parking garage to get his rental.

You still felt a bit uncomfortable being alone with him since you didn’t know him well, so your eyes were scanning the area to give you something to do. You happened to glance at a painting on the wall and you felt a cold chill run down your back.

Feeling you tense next to him, Doyoung looked at you with worry. “Are you okay?”

You slowly stood up, approaching the painting. It was her, the woman from your dream. Her eyes were bloodshot and hollow like she had died a long time ago. There a small tag on the bottom of the frame with a name etched into it.

“Matilda Palmer…”

“She looks terrifying,” Doyoung commented as he came up beside you.

“She was quite a nice woman, once upon a time.”

You both turned around, seeing an elderly man looking at the photo sadly. His eyes met yours and he frowned.

“She spoke to you, didn’t she?”

A shiver ran through your body and you moved closer to Doyoung, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of your head. It felt like the painting was burning a hole in your skull and you were too afraid to turn and check on it. Doyoung put his arm around your shoulder, looking at the man skeptically.

“Who… Who is she?” You questioned.

The man folded his hands behind his back, eyes sliding closed. “She haunts this hospital.”

“Haunts?” Doyoung’s grip tightened.

You glanced at him, patting his arm to try and calm him down despite the fact that you felt just as worried. “What happened to her?”

“She went insane after her child killed himself.”

Selfish child, selfish child, SELFISH CHILD!

You threw your hands over your ears as her voice echoed in your head. Having had enough, Doyoung excused himself and all but dragged you to the door of the hospital. Johnny pulled up just as you stepped outside and the pair of you hopped into the backseat.

He looked at you with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a weird man talking about the hospital being haunted…” Doyoung shivered. “Let’s just leave, okay?”

Johnny nodded and took off, tapping the steering wheel lightly. “Y/N? There’s something your dad and I didn’t tell you…”

“What would that be?” You questioned, rubbing your temples. You couldn’t stop thinking about that damned dream.

“We talked it over, and we both agreed that this is the best for you.” He paused, wondering what your reaction would be. “You’re coming back to Korea with us.”

“…Wait, what?!”

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Although you were against the idea at first, you were glad that Johnny had forced you to come to Korea with him. It had been about four months since you moved into a small apartment with him and Doyoung. You expected to be left alone when he was working, but Johnny refused to let you be alone for more than a few minutes and forced you to come along with him. His managers were not happy about this, but it was something he refused to back down on. Doyoung and their leader, Taeyong, also backed him up since they both knew about your situation.

During this time, you had gotten increasingly close to Doyoung, who had made it his personal mission to look after you.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Doyoung questioned, smiling at you as he entered the apartment.

“Are you sure you won’t get into trouble?”

“Positive!” He gently grabbed your hand, tugging you towards the door. “I only had a photo shoot to do today, and I promised we’d go to the park.”

You sighed in defeat, allowing the male to pull you along. Worrying about ruining their careers constantly plagued your mind, but it didn’t seem to bother them. They always made sure to make time for you.

It was midday in Spring, the sun shining in a sea of fluffy white clouds. It was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He led you to a small patch of grass on the outer edge of the park where you both sat comfortably.

He was feeling nervous, despite having been alone with you many times in the past. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You were lying back on the grass, staring up at the clouds.

“Are you happy?” He lightly picked at the grass nervously. “Being here with us, with… me.”

“I’m not sure how to answer that. I feel… fortunate having you guys in my life, but I also feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt that way.”

He turned to lie down next to you, propping his head up in his hand. “Do you mind if I ask…”

“Why did I try to kill myself?” You finished, locking eyes with him. He nodded. “Truthfully, several reasons. I was tired, mostly, but I thought I was doing everyone a favor. I felt like such a burden to my father…”

Hearing those words broke his heart. His hand slid onto of your own, eyes never leaving yours. He wanted to convey his feelings, but he wasn’t sure how you felt and he didn’t want to make you feel burdened. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Sometimes. More than anything, I feel guilty.” You paused for a moment. “Do you remember that painting at the Hospital?”

“How could I forget? It was so creepy,” he shivered, “And what was with that guy?”

“He was right. I did see her.”

His brow furrowed.

“It was in a dream, but I saw her. She kept repeating ‘selfish child’. I didn’t know what it meant until that man explained what happened to her.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with his. “I looked her up online. She only appears to those that have attempted suicide. Her son was depressed and had been hospitalized many times throughout his life for trying to kill himself. Finally, he succeeded… his mother was a wreck and, eventually, she went insane and stabbed the nurse that was looking after her. She was locked away in a padded cell and passed away three days later.”

“I see… that’s a shame.”

“At first, I thought she was just a vengeful spirit, angry about what her son had done, but… she’s trying to stop others from making the same mistakes that her son had.”

“I think… when you kill yourself, you also kill those around you.” He whispered, moving closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. His hand held yours against his chest. “Depression makes you think that others are better off without you, but that’s not the case. I was there when Johnny got the call. It was like his world had shattered. He dropped the phone and fell to his knees in shock. We were about to go on a variety show but he broke down and had to stay backstage.”

You felt tears pricking your eyes as you whispered, “I thought he forgot about me…”

Doyoung shook his head, lifting it so he could smile at you. “Never. He was always telling us stories about things you both did when you were growing up. He felt so guilty when he stopped having time to talk to you, but we were all swamped with our schedules… Even having you here, he’s constantly worrying about you. I do, too…”

“Doyoung…”

“You said you don’t deserve to be happy… I believe everything happens for a reason. Your attempt lead you to me, and I’m determined to show you that you do deserve to be happy. You’re not a burden, you’re a beautiful human being who deserves the world.” He pulled his hand away to rest it on your cheek as he hovered above you. “There’s only one of you in this world, Y/N. And I… I love you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of deceit but there was none. You only found sincerity, warmth and, most importantly, love. Your heart was racing in your rib cage.

“You don’t have to feel the same… I wasn’t planning on confessing.” He laughed awkwardly. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I want to remain friends. I know things are probably awkward now but I just felt like I should – ”

“Doyoung,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

With a smile, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. For the first time in your life, you wanted to keep living. You finally found the will to fight against the darkness.

He pulled away and you smiled brightly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes again. He wiped away your tears.

“I… I want to live.”

The smile that overtook Doyoung’s face was as bright as the sun. His eyes watered as he threw his arms around you, holding your body tight to his own. Four simple words, but it was enough for both of you.

You were tired of being a victim, enslaved by the darkness of depression. You were tired of feeling like a burden and wanting to die. You wanted to fight, to overcome it and, for the first time in your life, you felt confident that you could.

With Doyoung by your side, you were free to start again.

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narcotic-hypnosis · 4 years

Text

18 Feet

Caution, this piece features some possible trigger warnings for suicide.

I never actually wanted to die like this so badly

But how can I let myself resist when the opportunity is there

For the taking? it's just a question of where shall I do it

And how I should do it if it ever comes to it.

I'm just a narcissistic psychopath alone and afraid,

I never feel at home and I don't know what to say about it

Except that I'm done with it, I'm leaving, nothing more to say.

It's all just a chore for me now and I want to go to sleep,

For the devil my soul to keep, and to play with

Because its no longer a monolith to me, and I hate

Every second that I'm left to wander on this Earth

And, I deserve every part of shit that gets aimed at me.

I'm lacklustre, hard to please, but nothing pleases me more

Than settling the final score with my inner demons.

Failed achievements forever set in fateful stone,

Words previously said somewhere, this house is not my home.

So I gather my immediate collectables and head out,

It's not my time to shout or call out for help.

If it wasn't such a problem for myself I could repair it

But it's been nothing but shit up until now.

And now I head down the street, lights are brightly lit,

They guide me down my pit of despair, my path

Of desire and devastation that calls to me.

It's so hard to see ahead yet I know where I'm going,

My subconscious showing to me my immediate fate

And the shame of having to live out my days

Provoking me, and pushing me towards the edge

Of the ledge that I'm headed to this day.

I've been walking for not even ten minutes and

Yet I've reached my finished path, the bridge

Where I stop to gather my thoughts and decide

Whether I want to die or not, and I'm convinced

That I'm supposed to stand upon the arm of this bridge

And jump 18 feet down beneath it, to end it all

But I'm stalling, because I'm having second thoughts.

Time is short, it's now or never, it's over, I need to decide

Whether to get down from here or whether to die.

So I make up my mind and climb to the highest point,

That night I kinda wished I had a lit joint to calm me down

But I'm all out, like I'm all out of motivation

Besides the motivation to take this leap of faith

To the concrete depths below me, facing certain death.

Or so I believed as I made that final trek,

Or so I believed as I took that final leap.

The world and time itself slows as I fall

18 feet down as I hear hell call my name

Only to shame me, as I hit the ground,

And be able to stand up again and brush myself off

To walk home and lock the doors to prevent

Myself from escaping again and running away

And creating cunning plans about how to do it again.

But it's lights out and I'm laid in bed

And ready to forget my miserable night of sorrow,

As I try to borrow someone else's serotonin

To feed myself a little bit of happiness

And make my life a little less like this.

I'd apologise to my friends and my family if they knew

How much I tried desperately to go through with it,

Because I know it's shit but now I will always know

I've never actually wanted to die like this.

I'm aware I have posted this piece before, reblogged from my original account, but I realised I had a few tweaks made.

#poetry #tw suicice #tw suicude #my writing #writing #poets corner #poets on tumblr #spoken word #word play #word poem

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irwingiggling · 5 years

Text

westbrook | pt. 6

gang!ashton; gang!5sos

[pt. 1] [pt. 2] [pt. 3] [pt. 4] [pt. 5]

[Image credit: @not-grey-enough]

A/N: Wowww it’s been such a long time since I updated this story (yikes!). Some of my breaks from tumblr last longer than others, but I always find myself coming back here eventually. University has been a wild ride for me, but I honestly fell in love with this story and I feel like it deserves to be completed. I hope to finish it for you guys. This chapter has been sitting on my laptop for ages in draft form, and this weekend I finally added some scenes and finished it up for you guys. No promises on when the next chapter will be coming, but I do have some scenes drafted for that.

Summary: In which Ashton is one of the leaders of the Westbrook Dragons, a gang who often feuds with the Vipers for control of the streets. After hearing of her estranged father’s death, Marina comes to Westbrook to fix up his house and sell it. Coming from a privileged neighborhood, the last thing Marina expects is to move in next door to a gang’s hideout.

Word Count: 4,100+

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language, drug references)

The next few weeks after the Dragons meeting were fairly uneventful. Marina and Ashton were still taking things slow, for the most part. Ashton had been busier than usual with the Dragons (some kind of territory issues, that he didn't care to elaborate on when Marina asked). In the meantime, Marina had continued to plunge her time into the house. Of course some things had been delayed, and what was originally a week's worth of work had turned into a month, but the house was now essentially completed. In fact her realtor, Steve, had scheduled an appointment to meet with her one last time before the final round of showings with the most serious prospective buyers.

Marina had an oddly bittersweet feeling about the entire thing. The house was what was keeping her here, with Ashton, but how would things change once it was sold? Would the two of them stay together in this fledgling relationship? Would she move back home? She got a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about the possibility of moving back to the life she'd once lived, with her mother's flower shop. The only world she'd ever known, the place that had once given her so much safety and purpose, had now been completely flipped on its head. Her mother felt like a fraud, a sham. Just another everyday flower shop making a modest income, falsely elevated to the level of luxury through the use of her father's drug money. And confronting her mother would only lead to more questions, especially ones pertaining to how Marina had found out the information in the first place.

She felt a sense of security and familiarity with Westbrook that was growing stronger every day. But sometimes she still felt like a stranger in her father's old house.

It was some time in the wee hours of the morning, and Marina was currently sleeping soundly in her bed. In just a few hours she would have her final meeting with Steve, and Marina was getting some well-deserved rest after a busy day of putting up the final touches around the house. That is, until everything changed, and unfamiliar footsteps and voices outside her open window caused her to bolt upright in bed.

She'd had Ashton's number saved in her phone for a while, now - he told her she needed it just in case. This was around the same time he practically accosted her about Steve, when she was getting into her car. Back when she was still desperately trying to convince herself that Ashton was a terrible person.

"Ash?" she whispered. It came out so quiet, she wasn't sure that he even heard her, but she didn't want the sound to travel. She was shaking so violently that she was sure the sound on the other end was all rustled and unclear.

"Yeah?" he grumbled, sounding like he'd just woken up. He probably had, it was 3am after all.

"I think- I think someone's trying to break in."

"What?" he asked, louder and more coherently this time. She could almost picture him bolting upright in his bed, thoughts of sleep instantly vanishing from his brain.

"Ash what do I do?" she asked in a hysterical whisper, flinching so hard she nearly dropped the phone when she heard someone fiddling with the lock to the back door. It was across the house from her bedroom, but in the dead silence of the night, she could clearly hear the lock being jiggled and pried apart.

"Shit, where are you?" he asked, breathing heavily into the phone, sounding like he was running. She heard the slight jingle of keys on the line, and knew he was on the way out of his apartment.

"I'm- I'm under my bed," she said, silent tears now running down her face. She was frozen and absolutely petrified.

"You stay right there, ok babygirl? Don't make a sound. I'm coming, I'll be right there, ok? I promise."

"Ok," she whispered, voice breaking as a lump built in her throat.

She didn't hear any noise for a couple minutes, waiting with bated breath, laying on her side to fit under her bed, knees tucked to her chin, in the fetal position. She desperately hoped the intruder had decided to leave, but she knew the thought was too good to be true even as she tried to convince herself. Soon enough she heard slow, steady footfalls against the floor, making their way from one end of the house to the other. Her throat tightened in terror so much that she could barely breathe. Every breath she took felt like she was silently choking, hands shaking as they pressed into her knees, face itchy and raw as salty tear tracks ran down her cheeks.

"I know you're in here," a deep voice said. A pair of black leather boots came into view of the doorway. The voice chuckled quietly. "You tell your little boyfriend that-"

He couldn't finish the rest of his sentence because another figure came flying in behind him, sending the first man to the ground. The two immediately started trading punches, both fighting to get the upper hand. All Marina could see was a sliver of floor from her position underneath the bed, but she could hear the punches and the grunts as items were thrown around and knocked over. She knew it was Ashton. She saw a flash of his curls one time he got knocked to the ground.

She heard Ashton hiss and her heart leapt to her throat. Was he ok? Shortly afterwards, another pair of boots came into the room, and then another.

A hand reached under the bed and she immediately recognized it as Ashton's.

"C'mon!" he said urgently, and she grabbed ahold, allowing herself to be dragged out from under the bed. Ashton shielded her from the others in the room - she caught a sliver of two figures, black curls and golden curls, standing over another figure, before Ashton pulled her down the hallway, and out into the cool night.

He hopped on his motorcycle and she climbed in behind him, shaking hands fumbling to wrap themselves around his stomach as quickly as possible. As soon as she was secured, the motorcycle roared to life, and Ashton set off at a breakneck speed down the otherwise quiet country road.

---

Ashton helped her into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind them. He guided her onto the couch and sat down beside her. She was still shaking a little bit, but partly that was due to the thin pajama set she was wearing, just pale pink silk shorts and a matching spaghetti strap top. Ashton noticed this and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it securely around her.

"You're ok," he soothed gently, right hand smoothing her hair. "You're safe here, no one can get you now."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. Finally she looked up, looking at Ashton fully for the first time since the break in.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, fingers flying up to inspect his cheek. The gash was shallow, but a couple inches long. Smeared, dried blood surrounded the area. The skin underneath his right eye was red and puffy - she was sure it would be bruised and blackened by tomorrow.

"It's fine," he said, brushing her fingers away. "What about you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no," she shook her head quickly. "Just shook me up, that's all." She was still shaking, and she put her arms around herself to try and stop it. Ashton noticed and immediately engulfed her in his embrace, pulling her closer so she was sitting on his lap, facing him.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. "I should've thought-" he cut himself off, in annoyance.

"It's not your fault, Ash."

---

Neither of them could sleep fully, instead they drifted in and out of consciousness as they held each other tightly on the couch. Hours later, when the first rays of sunlight began to seep in through the partly closed blinds, there was a knock on the door.

Calum came in, dark curls bouncing on his head. "We got him to talk." The sleeves of his leather jacket were pulled up slightly, exposing his tanned, tattooed arms. His face looked sullen, lips pursed into a straight line. He continued walking, and Ashton and Marina followed him to the far back of the apartment, into the study.

As Ashton closed the door behind them, Marina's stomach twisted - she didn't even want to think about what they did in order to get him to talk.

Ashton gave a curt nod towards Calum and raised his eyebrows, silently willing his partner to continue.

"He's linked to Parsons."

"Fuck," Ashton cursed lowly.

"Steve?" Marina asked, eyebrows raising. "Steve, my realtor?"

Calum nodded, biting down hard on his lower lip.

"Fuck!" Ashton said louder, making his right hand into a fist. "I knew it!"

"You told me about him, how'd you know?" Marina asked.

Ashton shook his head. "Something about him just seemed... off."

"Ok but what was he trying to do?"

"They trashed the house. He's trying to threaten us. I knew he had ties to the Vipers," he spat.

"But what does that have to do with the house?" Marina asked.

"They know.. about us," Ashton sighed, running a hand through his curls while reaching out to thread Marina's fingers in his own. Marina caught his eye, and stared at him, prompting him for more.

"They're trying to send a message. They're trying to scare you, trying to scare me, it's.... bullshit," he finished, looking away and shaking his head angrily.

"Cal, can you get the guys to clean everything up?" Ashton asked, looking over at Calum who had temporarily been forgotten.

"Yeah, course mate," Calum nodded, leaving the room.

"So..." Ashton began, taking Marina's hands in his own. She was sitting on the chair behind the study desk, while Ashton was sitting on top of the desk, facing towards her so their legs were jumbled together. "I think it might be safest if I stayed at the house, for a little while at least, just to make sure you're protected in case they try anything else. What do you think about that?" he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on her hands which he was holding between his own.

"Yeah," she nodded. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "That's probably safest," she said, getting caught up in the honey brown of his eyes. "And... I would like that," she smiled gently, moving her fingertips underneath his leather jacket, hugging him close.

Ashton smiled back. He pressed his lips against hers gently, then moved up to kiss her forehead.

---

Marina woke up the next night in a cold sweat, bolting upright as her eyes shot open. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the complete darkness of the room. As her breathing slowed down, her posture relaxed slightly - if she hadn't been stabbed yet, she figured it was probably just a dream.

Just then, warm fingertips touched her skin, as Ashton shifted beside her.

"Shh it's ok Mar, I got you," he mumbled, rubbing soothing circles into her skin with the pads of his fingertips. "Lay down babygirl, it was just a dream. You're safe."

Marina instantly relaxed, sinking into Ashton's grip. She huddled up close to him, pressing her back firmly against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her there. He leaned over to press gentle butterfly kisses to her exposed shoulder. She held his forearms as they wrapped around her, shutting her eyes before drifting back to sleep, this time to peaceful dreams.

When she woke up the next morning, she was still in Ashton's grip.

"Ash," she whispered, trying to move his arms away. He just mumbled something incoherent and pulled her even closer, nuzzling his face into her neck. "Ash," she repeated, giggling softly as she pressed herself against his arms. "I gotta pee."

He sighed overdramatically, still not even bothering to open his eyes, but he did loosen his grip, allowing her to climb out of bed. Marina was starting to love the mornings - it was the one time in the whole day where Ash was soft and sleepy, the one time where he didn't need to be closed off and hardened by the world around him.

---

"What are you up to today?" Marina asked, stirring her coffee, watching the amber liquid swirling in her ceramic mug, creating a vortex.

Ashton gave a small smirk. "I'm gonna make Parsons pay for what he did," he said casually, eating a bite of toast.

Marina's gaze flicked up to his eyes, the easy nature in her voice immediately dropping. "Ashton do you really think that's the best idea?" she asked in a tone that told him it wasn't.

Ashton looked over at her, studying her. "Yes, Marina I do. He needs to know he's messing with the wrong people. I won't let him walk all over you or me."

Marina sighed, placing her mug down on the table. "I know what he did was wrong, but is violence really the answer? I was exploring some legal routes, in fact I drafted an email to my mother's lawyer already to set up a meeting. Maybe I could get a restraining order, or have him pay some kind of restitution fee or something."

Ashton shook his head. "A fee? Marina he needs to pay for what he did, and I don't mean through money or a piece of paper. That's never going to stop him, he'll just come back."

"Okay but I'm not sure that's the best way to fix this," she replied, sighing quietly in frustration that Ashton wasn't understanding her point of view.

"Well it's not really your decision to make, Marina-"

"What are you talking about, this happened in my house!" she fired back.

"Yeah but it happened because of me! He's trying to get to me by going through you."

"Ashton I don't think you understand-"

"I don't think you understand!" he exclaimed, cutting her off. "This isn't the world of private schools and cheques, Marina. This is the cold, hard, real world. And in the real world, you pay with your body."

"And I'm telling you I don't want you to do that Ashton, just listen to me!"

He got up abruptly, chair scraping across the newly polished floors. "Don't tell me what to do," he retorted coldly, quickly pacing the length of the living room.

"Where are you going?" she yelled, as she watched him make his way over to the door.

"Out," he replied curtly, the door shutting heavily behind him.

---

Ashton had been in fights before, but he'd never lost it like this. Once he saw Parsons he kept punching and punching until he couldn't see or feel anything anymore. A few minutes past the point at which Parsons had been knocked unconscious, Luke and Calum finally had to pull Ashton off of him, dragging him back into the car as he fought against them the whole way, trying to escape from their grasp and run back. At this point he couldn't tell whether Parsons was alive or not and he came to the realization that either way, he didn't care. As the four comrades drove down the streets of Westbrook in a blacked-out car, Michael dialled 911 from a burner phone. Ashton's hands were still locked into fists, steadily dripping blood onto the grey carpet of the vehicle.

---

"I've never... felt like that," Ashton said quietly, 20 minutes later with his right hand in a pail of ice cubes and his left hand holding a glass of stiff bourbon. He stared at the drink as he swirled it, as if it would give him answers as it caught the dim light of the room, glittering gold. When they got back to the apartment he had quickly showered off and changed, but some of his cuts had started bleeding again. He couldn't be bothered to care.

"Because this wasn't really about the house, or the drugs," Calum said, leaning against the faded wallpapered room, taking a long drag from his cigarette and exhaling, the smoke floating around the room.

Ashton didn't reply. He just sat there, letting the deafening silence consume him. The quiet sound of Calum puffing the smoke in then letting it out again was the only sound either of them heard for a while.

After a few more drags, Cal examined his cigarette, then squinted at Ashton. "You love her." He didn't even ask it as a question, it was a statement.

Ashton gulped back the last of the burnt orange liquid, setting the glass down on the table with a sharp clink. He reached over for the bottle but Cal swiped it from him before he could get a grip on it.

"Don't fuck it up with her because of this," Calum said. Ashton just stared at him, eyes tired, one limp curl hanging against his forehead. He held his hand out for the bottle, wordlessly. Calum studied him for a few seconds, before handing the bottle back. But instead of pouring another glass, Ashton set the bottle back on the table. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely even noticed his one hand was dripping wet from the ice water. He sniffed, setting his hands in his lap to examine his right hand. He splayed his fingers out, then made them into a fist. His knuckles were swollen, a slow trickle of blood still coming from the far left one. Then he brought his gaze up, staring hard at the door, jaw set. After a few moments, he got up and grabbed his keys from the table, wordlessly shutting the door behind him as he left.

---

Marina answered the door wordlessly, surveying him. She stood aside to let him in, and shut and locked the door behind him. He bent down to take his shoes off and she took this opportunity to leave, heading down the hallway to the bathroom. He took a seat at the kitchen table while she came back with the first aid kit, setting it down and taking a seat next to him.

She couldn't hold back the sigh when she surveyed his hand up close and personal. She set his hand down on the table and opened a bottle of disinfectant, dipping a cotton pad into it and spreading it over any open wounds. He hissed as the liquid made contact with his cuts, but didn't move. She added some antibiotic cream to speed the healing and prevent infection, and added a few bandaids here and there where they were needed. One of the larger gashes required a butterfly bandage. There was nothing she could do about the black eye that had nearly healed from the first fight, now red and purple again from this new one.

She was quiet, too quiet.

She handed him a coffee, wordlessly, hands shaking slightly as she put it on the table.

"What's wrong?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nothing," she said too quickly, in a voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows drew together. "Hey," he said gently, putting his arm around her wrist.

"Please don't touch me," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, wincing at his touch.

He immediately let go, sinking back as if he'd been stung.

"Babygirl," he said, a pained expression on his face. "Are you... scared of me?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.

She kept her gaze fixed to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Her silence was enough of an answer for him.

"Fuck," he whispered, the breath wheezing out of him as the word left his mouth.

When she finally gathered up the courage to look up, he was staring at the wall, eyes glassy. "I would never, in a million years, ever even think about hurting you. You are everything to me. You know that right?" he asked.

She nodded gently.

"But in my line of work, sometimes words aren't enough. Sometimes legalities don't help. And I have to protect the people I care about, if they're ever threatened. He's not dead, Mar. I know you didn't want that. I just made sure that he wouldn't ever come after you again."

She nodded once, in acknowledgement.

"But I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you, I'm sorry I just left. That was wrong of me," he finished quietly.

She simply nodded again, biting her fingernail absentmindedly. She was wearing a thick cardigan, and her other arm was wrapped tightly around herself, holding the fabric close.

Ashton held out his hand towards her - slowly, gently. After a few seconds, she took it. "C'mere," he whispered. He removed his other hand from his lap and held it outwards, making space on his lap for her. She took the couple steps forward and sat down. He gently wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest, taking a deep breath. She focused on his heartbeat, clear and strong in her ears, and on the fabric of his soft flannel, the jacket he always wore over top smelling of worn leather and cigars. She felt him kiss the top of her forehead.

"I don't want you to die," she said, in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"Shhh," he soothed into her ear, running his hand through her hair over and over again, watching the rings on his fingers glinting in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. "That's never going to happen. I promise you."

She shook her head. "I can't do this, Ashton. I can't let you go every day wondering if I'll ever see you again, if you're ok, if one of your deals has gone bad. Every time I hug you I feel the gun on your hip. And I know you said you've never used it, but what if one day you do?"

"Hey," he said, cupping her chin, bringing it up to be level with his. "Don't think like that." He kissed her gently, her bottom lip slotting between his own. He pulled her close again, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I know I've never said anything like this before but it's been eating me up. I wanna raise a family with you one day, Ash. I wanna have a dog and a fucking sandbox in the backyard. I wanna see you dress up in a pink tutu with our little girl. But I don't wanna worry about holding our kids tighter every time someone passes by, or seeing their chalk hopscotch squares destroyed by graffiti the next morning."

He smiled, eyes getting teary again but this time for a different reason. He was happy, so happy around her. She made him see a life outside of the gang. They would always be his brothers, but he wanted to invite them over for a barbeque, not a break in. She inspired him to be a better person every single day. There was no other way to say it. He knew that Marina's father had started up the business, but one day the time would be right to end it, or at least pass it on.

"I love you," he murmured, staring into her eyes.

She smiled. It was her turn to tear up now. "I love you too." She laughed gently, pressing their foreheads together.

"I promise you we'll get out of here. I'll help you sell this damn house that's nothing but trouble," he chuckled lightly, "and we'll move far away. What do you think about Oregon? I heard it's nice there."

"Mmm," she mumbled, closing her eyes and just listening to his voice. She reached up to cover a yawn with her left hand. After all of this, her eyelids were starting to get heavy.

He chuckled. "Are you getting sleepy, babygirl? Let's get you to bed."

He carried her up the stairs and laid her gently down on the bed. He got in beside her and pulled the covers up around them. She fell asleep less than a minute later, head against his chest. He fell asleep soon after to the sound of her steady breathing.

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 5 years

Text

I can finally see you’re as fucked up as me (so how do we win?)

I love dodie and kleinsen and I have many regrets but this has yet to become one of them. give it a hot second tho it’ll happen

trigger warnings: suicide, suicideal idealation, alchohol mention, depression

***

“You’re just a family friend. Speaking of which, could you mention to your mom I’ve been being nice to you? I need my car insurance payed.”

Jared’s already flinching inwardly at how crass he sounds. It’s not even distancing; it’s straight up dickish. But he makes sure to keep his face the same calculated blank expression as always, and Evan nods, an expression Jared can’t quite read on his face.

But really, Jared knows. He knows he’s not fooling Evan when he says they’re only family friends. He doesn’t even believe himself.

***

Jared’s not quite sure when he became an asshole.

Or, no-he’s pretty sure he’s always had the asshole-ness inside of him. More accurately, he’s not sure what made him share it.

(If he’s honest with himself, he knows damn well what. But honesty has never been Jared’s forté, especially with himself.)

Since he doesn’t care much for honesty, he can just continue on being a dick, without much problem.

He’s already invisible to everyone; no one really cares about him, and he knows they can’t stand him. He can’t even stand himself.

But there’s Evan. Evan, with the patience of a goddamn saint. Evan, who puts up with him being an asshole who blows him off and says he only hangs out with him to appease his parents. Evan, who has never once turned Jared away when he needed human contact.

(Evan, with the most beautiful eyes and glowing personality and infuriatingly nice hair, even though his anxiety may mask it.)

And Evan is all he has, which he’s perfectly fine with because he’d be fine with only Evan for the rest of his life, except for the fact that every time he sees him he screws things up and he knows that one day Evan will be done with his shit and finally leave. It’s a day Jared knows has to be coming, since he’s such a fuckup and he’ll have to wake up. Jared can’t even handle himself. And if Evan ever knew just how deep things went—

He could never know.

So Jared pushed Evan away and kept him at arms’ length with the assistance of “family friends” and cruel jokes. He could almost ignore the pang in his chest every time he saw him frown at one of his jokes or stare at the table during lunch. He could almost ignore the way Evan walked on eggshells around him. He could almost ignore the sleepless nights where he wondered how Evan was, what it would feel like to be able to reach out without letting down his carefully curated veneer.

And that was fine. It wasn’t good, or enjoyable. But it was fine. He was fine.

Until he realized there was nothing else for him, besides Evan. All his middle school friends had ditched him long before when he became too “clingy,” both his parents worked full-time, and he didn’t do anything.

He slapped a crooked smile on his face and sharpened his wit so he’d always have a joke ready to deflect with. He forced himself into seats at lunch tables with barely-even-acquaintances. He broke into his parents liquor cabinet and drank himself asleep.

Words became his weapons as he wrapped himself in humor like armor, wielded his cruelty like a sword, wore a fake confidence to cover all of his insecurities. He was never anywhere but he forced himself everywhere. He didn’t think he was funny but he built himself around his jokes. He was never happy but he was never upset, either.

He could almost convince himself it was all true.

Jared became one hell of an actor.

And that’s...fine.

And if Evan finds him having a panic attack in the bathroom one day because the acting was just too much, he never talks about it.

If Evan, with the tiny crease between his brows as they furrowed in concern, with his hands gripping at his shirt, with his eyes nervously darting to Jared’s but knowing exactly what to do, was the only thing that could actually calm him down, he didn’t think much of it.

If he wanted nothing more than to apologize in that moment, if nothing else, or to lean in and kiss him and feel Evan’s arms wrap around him as panic finally left him, to leave the bathroom hand in hand and never let go, he never said it.

And if he knew, in that moment, that he’d fallen in love, he never let on.

If he bit out an insult about how much of a freak Evan was and how he’d never need help from a loser like him, he’d never admit it.

If he could feel his heart tear as Evan’s eyes watered and his hand dropped and he rushed out of the bathroom leaving Jared to resume his uneven breathing, he refused to acknowledge it.

If he sunk to the floor and dropped his head into his hands and finally let himself cry, for the first time in several years, he never mentioned it.

He told himself all of that, anyway. He never was one for honesty. He could almost believe it, too.

(He never quite did.)

And that’s fine. Even though it’s really not fine...it’s fine.

It’s not good, but it’s normal, and Jared will take it.

Change is just too much.

Senior year is just another step in the road. After senior year, he’s off to college and finally away from the suffocating persona he’s crafted for himself.

And Evan has a broken arm.

Which would be normal, except Jared knows damn well that as much as Evan loves trees he’d never climb one.

Unless he was planning something drastic.

He sees something, something deep within the set of Evan’s shoulders and the depths of his pupils. Something he’s felt echoing in his own mind increasingly, broken and distorted.

But Jared’s one to talk.

It’s almost as though he’s willed it into existence, but a few days later Connor Murphy kills himself.

Hey, loving the new haircut, very school-shooter chic.

When he finds out, he takes the day off of school. Something settled in the pit of his stomach, a dark and writhing shame that felt like a question.

His mother tries to find out what’s making him so sick, but eventually he convinces her to let him stay home alone. She’s against it, and she means well, he knows she does, but for once he really wishes his parents could just say no.

Once she’s gone, he crawls his way out of bed and makes his way through the house with slow, heavy steps. He’s never noticed how filled the house is with pictures, mostly of him as a child, all beaming at the camera with that opened-mouth smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt happy enough to smile like that. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling like that again.

He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. And that’s fine.

He’s in front of the liquor cabinet before he knows he is. Unconsciously, he’s pulling out that bottle of vodka he knows has been sitting there for years, taking a swig that’s probably a little heavier than recommended with an upset stomach.

It’s habit. It’s normal. But it feels different, almost.

Jesus, Connor Murphy’s dead days after you call him a school shooter. You might as well be dead too, huh?

You’re the fucking freak.

He takes another swig out of the bottle, feeling it burn on the way down.

No use being alive when you’re already invisable, right? Who’s gonna grieve you? Your parents who never make sure you’re okay? Your classmates who laugh at your jokes but call you clingy? All the people you torment just because it makes you feel like you have some social standing? The boy you’ve been desperately in love with for three years who deserves way better than a dick who won’t even be seen with him in public?

If this is his life, than living isn’t worth shit.

There’s sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet upstairs. Or he could clear out the liquor cabinet and hope that that’s enough.

Either way, another drink wouldn’t hurt.

He thinks of Evan for a moment. There’s nothing for him but Evan, but he doesn’t deserve a minute of Evan’s time. There’ll be no pain for Evan if he’s gone. The only pain will be what Jared is feeling, and once that’s out of the equation...

He’s interrupted by a knock at the door, frantic and sporadic.

Shoving the bottle back into the cabinet, Jared smoothely makes his way to the front door, hoping he looks sick enough to pass.

All he gets is another wave of nausea while Evan stares up at him, hair disheveled and breathing ragged.

“Oh my god,” Evan says, and it’s only then that Jared realizes Evan’s entire body is shaking. He launches himself at Jared, arms wrapping around his neck. He’s shaking so hard Jared is surprised he was still standing out there.

Without thinking, Jared wraps one arm around Evan’s shoulders while attempting to close the door around him.

They stand like that for another moment before Evan attempted to explain himself.

“I’m sorry, I just, god, I know you don’t want to hear from me and I know you hate me but I’m in a really bad place and I can’t believe Connor Murphy is dead and I feel so horrible because he stole my letter—”

Jared pulls back. now that he can feel Evan becoming steadier, and cuts him off. “Wait, wait, sorry, just—”

“I, um, I had to write letters to myself as a therapy assignment and I was printing one on the first day and Connor saw it and freaked out and the whole thing sounded like a suicide note—”

“What?”

“And,” Evan continues his word vomit. “I think—I think that might have been part of why he’s—oh god.” which is punctuated by Evan dropping his head into his hands.

Jared blinks once, trying to process everything. “Wait, but, why...did it sound like a suicide note?”

Evan doesn’t move, but Jared swears he can hear a sniffle.

“Evan,” and this time, his voice is soft but clear, coercing him into looking back up. “Were you going to...”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “No! Not then. I don’t think. Except,” he pauses, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “It wasn’t— it was earlier this year and-I don’t know why I’m here, I’m so sorry, just, bye, I’ll leave—”

“Jesus Christ, Evan,” Jared said, trying to sound just annoyed enough that the affection and worry in his voice would be masked. “What is it?”

“I didn’t fall.” He blurts, and Jared is silenced. “From the tree. This summer. I let go. I...”

Somehow, Jared knows what Evan was going to say. His tone is flat as he fills in where Evan left off. “...felt like you could disappear? Like it would be better if you did?”

Evan nods, not quite meeting Jared’s eyes.

Puzzle pieces start to click in Jared’s brain, even through the fair amount he’d had to drink. “And that’s why you came here. Because you thought that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to stop.” He was suddenly aware of his palms shaking and stomach turning over, vision tunneling so all he could see was Evan. Evan wanted to die, and it was his fault, at least partially.

Jared could’ve burst into tears. He just managed to swallow the lump down.

We’re just family friends.

Evan’s saying something, but Jared can’t remember what. There’s the bottle of vodka, and there’s the sleeping pills upstairs. They’re sorely tempting, but Evan’s standing in front of him. How could he want to die when Evan is standing in front of him, needing him to save him?

He wanted nothing more, but how could he save Evan when his own brain wanted nothing more than release?

How could he save Evan when he’d been part of the reason for his destruction?

Now it’s Jared who can’t meet Evan’s eyes, and he begins to ask “how did you knows this?” His eyes fall on the hastily hidden vodka bottle and the cabinet which had fallen open in Jared’s haste to get to the door.

Jared scrambled to explain. “I-I just, I was a dick to Connor and I was horrible and he’s—no one cares about me anyway but I’ve still been horrible enough to someone that they killed themselves and—now it’s like, you felt...like that, and it’s just—how can I keep going in like this? I’m just,” he broke off for a moment, choking over his words, “all I do is hurt people.”

“No,” Evan breathes, looking more crestfallen than before. He shoots himself forward again, lips crashing against Jared’s, and the world crashes to a halt just for a moment. It’s desperate and hurried and frantic, but Jared feels that he could smile again, even if this moment is his last with Evan. Or last ever.

There’s a million unsaid things in the air, but somehow in the space of a moment he hears all of them. They’re everything he’s needed to hear for the last seventeen years. I need yous and you’re important to mes and it wasn’t yous and I love yous.

Evan pulls away too quickly, murmuring another no as he buries his face in Jared’s chest. “No. You can’t... I wouldn’t...”

“Oh yeah?” Jared says, voice choked with tears. “How do you think I felt when you said it, asshole?”

Evan laughs a little, a wet, discordant thing, but still reaches up to kiss Jared again. And then they’re both crying, not quite sure how to move forward but desperately grasping at each other to make sure the other won’t disappear.

Those unspoken things hang in the air again, but they ignore them for a moment. There’s an adrenaline rush coursing through their veins, terrifying and intoxicating and suffocating at the same time. There’s only one thing that’s abundantly clear: they’d both been ready to see the end that day. It turned out that this was just another beginning.

Neither is fine, but fine is overrated anyway.

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

Chuck, Your Brother and Me

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death (this is about a Winchester...) Stubborn Dean, fluffy finish

Summary: After the return of Chuck and the drama that ensued, Y/N tries to convince Dean that no one will love him more than she does.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1556

Beta’d by: @hannahindie

A/N: I just love the idea of the reader loving Dean so completely. Set after S11E20 where Chuck reveals himself to the Winchester, but before Amara returns Mary to Earth and her sons. Based off the Florida Georgia Line song “God, Your Mama and Me” but I loved the idea of making it about Dean, not the reader.

Dean stormed down the hall. He had had enough of Chuck’s bullshit excuses. Where was He when the world needed him? When they needed him? They had both been praying to Him once they learned Amara’s true identity, begging Him to come stop her; to save humanity.

Y/N waited, knowing Dean would need some time to cool down. She had watched the entire interaction with Chuck and the Winchesters. She understood why He had disappeared. She didn’t agree with it, no, but she understood. Just because he was God, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel the need to explore himself and cut the proverbial apron strings.

She had been through so much with the Winchesters after years of hunting with them. Sam was her best friend, her rock. Dean, well, her relationship with Dean was complicated. She had confessed her love to him when he returned from Purgatory, having lived a half life without him for a year. It almost broke her, being on her own. Sam had taken off to parts unknown. Bobby was dead. Everyone she loved had left or died. She was truly alone. She had retreated to Whitefish, Montana and hermited herself in Rufus’ old hunting cabin for most of that year. She had looked for Dean. She had reached out to witches, a shaman, a hoodoo priestess, everyone she could think of that could aide her in finding him. When that all failed, she closed in on herself.

Imagine her surprise when Dean showed up at the cabin. She was so grateful for his safe return that she admitted her feelings. But, Dean being Dean, couldn’t understand why someone would love him the way she said did. It took months of chipping away at the wall, but he had finally started to see the truth, feel the love she showed him, and most importantly, believe that he deserved to be loved.

She truly believed that Chuck felt he had done the right thing and he came back when they needed him, not before. She could feel the love he held inside him for the Winchesters, even for herself. It would take some convincing for her help Dean see it as well.

She quietly slipped from the War Room and through the winding halls looking for Dean. If he wanted to be alone, she would leave him be, but knowing the man for a decade, she knew when he needed comfort, too, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. It wasn’t until she reached the garage that she found him. He was sitting beside the workbench, a rag in his hands and his head down.

Dean lifted his head at the sound of her footfalls as she approached him. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you. What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, flipping over an empty bucket, taking a seat next to him.

“Thinking,” he shrugged. She could still see the fresh tear tracks on his face.

“I know how you’re feeling Dean. I know it’s unfair to the world what He did. But He’s here now, when we need Him,” she took his hand gently in hers, pulling it into her lap. “That’s what counts, right?”

“It just seems like too little, too late, you know?” he sniffed, turning his head to look at her. “Can he even stop Amara?”

“Sometimes, we need to have a little faith, Dean,” she reminded him. She stood, tugging on his hand still held in hers. “Come on, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“Yeah, okay,” he relented, following her back through the halls to their room.

They silently readied themselves for bed, Y/N in one of Dean’s old shirts, while Dean stripped to just his boxers. They climbed under the covers and Y/N turned to face him, each of them laying on their sides.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked, running her hand over his scruff, stopping to hold his face in her hand.

“Yeah, I know, Sweetheart. I love you, too,” he whispered in the darkness, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“And your brother,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, Sammy, too. Till the wheels fall off,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face.

“Chuck loves you as well, Dean. You know that, too, right?” she coaxed. “He may not know how to show it, but he’s here and I know.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s know there was always this grand plan for us, for me. Like when Cas raised me from the pit. I didn’t believe it then and it’s still a little hard to believe now. Why would God, Chuck, give a crap about us?” He pointed out.

“Because you’re good people. You are a good person Dean. You love with all your heart. You are loyal and caring and generous. You do things no one else would even think about doing,” she listed all the reasons why. “And because, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“But it doesn’t make up fo the all the bad I’ve done,” Dean sighed, averting his eyes from hers.

“The bad we’ve done, Dean. Sometimes we have to do that bad things, so we can do the good things. You, me, Sam...we’ve all done it. And we’ve done it together. We’re still here and still doing the good things,” she stated.

“I don’t think it’s that simple. It’s like you. Why do you love me?” Dean propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her.

“For ten years, you have been my friend, my comfort, my safe place. It never occurred to me how much I needed you until you were gone. Twice. You’ve died, gone to Hell, disappeared for a year in Purgatory, but I was here, holding out hope, though I could barely keep myself together. I could never admit it to myself, let alone you. But now that I have you, my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty. Now until the day I die, unconditionally, you know I'm always gonna be here for you,” she preached to him.

“You didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” he pointed out.

“Fine, you’re right. Every fight, every case, every monster, you put us first. You are fiercely loyal, to a fault sometimes. You strive to see the good in people. And yes, I did tell you all this, but I will happily tell you again and again until you believe me. You love with everything you are. Family is most the important thing to you. And you fight for what you believe in,” she continued.

“Your heart, your mind�� both are big and beautiful and I am in constant awe of you and the things you can accomplish when you put your mind to it. My heart was lost without you, Dean. I was lost without you. I will be here for you, no matter what. I will be there praying with you every mile down any dead end road. You can tell me every secret that you been keeping, I'll hold it, lock and key. I’ll stay up with you all night, holding you all night, I’ll never leave. You better believe my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty. I promise you now until the day I die, unconditionally,” her promises were her vow to him there in the darkness.

“That is, just wow, I’m going to have to steal that,” he smiled.

“Steal it? For what?” she nuzzled close to him.

“For when I ask you to marry me,” he confessed. “We’ve talked about it, I know. And I always wanted to, but you always said you didn’t need a ring or a a ceremony to prove our love. But that, was some pretty powerful stuff, Sweetheart.”

“Love can be pretty powerful, if we let it,” she told him. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever loved me the way you do, Y/N,” Dean turned serious. “No one in my life has made me feel the way you do.”

“No one is ever gonna love you more than Chuck, your brother and me, Dean,” she kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll always be by your side. With every step you take, I'll be as sure as your shadow. With every move you make, you know I'm part of you wherever you go.”

Dean threw the covers back and got out of bed. He threw his robe and slippers on and headed for the door.

“Babe? Where are you going?” she stared at him from her spot on the bed.

“You just gonna lay there? Let’s go ask Chuck to marry us!” he said, opening the door.

“Right now?” she was shocked that he was doing this now.

“No, not right now, we’re not dressed! But soon. When we take down Amara, and we will, I want you by my side, as my wife,” he professed.

“Who knew Dean Winchester was such a romantic sap?” she sassed, pulling on her own robe.

“You did. And you were the one that finally got through to me, even if it took a decade. I don’t want to wait any longer,” he took her hand and together they went on their search for Chuck.

Did you like this?? Remember, the nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada Taglist: @closetspngirl @emoryhemsworth @iwantthedean @meganwinchester1999 @sis-tafics @wilde-abandon @wegoddessofhell @holyfuckloueh @horsegirly99 @smoothdogsgirl @dolphincliffs @thisismysecrethappyplace @neeadinghugs @roxyspearing @theoriginalvicki @andkatiethings @mrswhozeewhatsis @linki-locks11 @evansrogerskitten @hennessy0274-blog @hobby27 @kdfrqqg @gh0stgurl @charliebradbury1104 @blacktithe7 @the--blackdahlia @fortisetgloriosusinarduis @roseblue373 @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @cherrycokegirls1

The Dean’s List: @supernatural-jackles @dean-winchesters-bacon @cameronbraswell @docharleythegeekqueen @maddiepants @squirrel-moose-winchester @amanda-teaches @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @adoptdontshoppets @wingedcatninja @akshi8278 @kathaswings @deansgirl215 @x-waywardaf-x @elara98azalea @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader flangst #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic

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xreaderfic-land · 6 years

Text

What Lies Beneath Part 24

Jay whipped through the city. It didn’t take much on his end to convince you to come home. You gave your job a two-week notice. Tim and Jason pretty much stayed with you two for the two weeks. They helped you pack but then hired somebody to move your stuff back to Gotham. When the two weeks were up, Damian insisted on being there to bring you two home.

Tim and Mariah took Damian back to Wayne Manor. Jason had a few pit stops that he wanted to take you to before returning to Wayne Manor. The wind whipped in your face as Jason sped through the city. When he got towards the poorer part of town he slowed and then parked his bike.

“What are we doing here?” You asked him.

“I want you to see for yourself that your cure worked,” Jason told you.

Climbing off the back of his bike, you placed the helmet on the handles and then took Jason’s hand in yours. Jason leads you down the alley. You began looking behind things for the little kids.

“Miss Y/n!” A few voices shouted.

You saw a few kids come out of their hiding places. To see them all walking, with their tone back to normal, and 100% healthy you wanted to cry. You crouched down so you could pull them in for hugs.

“We’re feeling so much better!” They exclaimed

“I’m so happy,” You gushed.

You talked for several more minutes with them before Jason was pulling you away to keep moving. As more and more kids were coming out of their hiding places your heart felt like it was going explode.

As you made your way down you were keeping your eyes out for two very special girls.

“Come on,” Jason urged as he took a quick left.

Just as the two of you rounded the corner you saw two very familiar faces.

“Y/n!” The twins shouted.

You tugged Jason behind you as you rushed over to them. They threw their arms around and squeeze you tightly.

“How are you?” You asked.

“So much better!” Jess said.

“And what about you Em?” You asked.

“So good, thank you,” Em grinned.

Jason bent down next to you and started to tickle the girls. The two of you spent a good half an hour talking with the girls.

Jason and you took a good couple of hours to check in on everyone. When you felt satisfied the two of you made your way back towards Jason’s bike.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked.

“Overwhelmed, but in a good way. I’m just so happy that I did it. That I was able to take down Joker and stop him myself,” You said.

Jason smiled at you.

“It’s because you’re a boss ass bitch,” Jason teased.

You laughed. “I played Joker’s game and beat him at it,”

“I’m so proud of you,” Jason said kissing your temple.

You took the helmet, kissed Jason, and then slid the helmet on. The two of you climbed on the back of the bike.

“Ready?” Jason asked

You wrapped your arms tightly around Jason’s waist.

“Let’s go home,” You said.

Riding back through Gotham, you enjoyed seeing the familiar scenery. You had missed this place. This was your home. It is your home and will forever be your home.

As Jason took the long driveway up to the Manor your heart raced slightly. It was nerve-wracking to be back here. Jason promised that Bruce and everyone was fine. There was no bad blood between anybody.

Walking into the Wayne Manor Dick came running down the stairs.

“I’m happy to see you,” Dick grinned.

Dick pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s about time you came home,” Dick said.

You gave him an extra squeeze before pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” You began.

Dick cut you off.

“No need for an apology, Y/n,” Dick said.

“But I was such a bitch,” You told him.

“And we were all assholes, it’s fine,” Dick reassured you.

Bruce entered the entrance way.

“There you two are,” Bruce said.

“Hey,” You two said in unison.

Bruce hugged you both.

“Come to join us out back, we’re grilling out,” Bruce said.

The four you headed towards the back of the Manor. Outside on the patio, the Justice League was here along with Selina. Selina came right over to you to pull you in a hug.

“No more running from our problems,” She said in a whisper.

You smiled. “It’s a deal,”

Damian came over and handed you a glass of lemonade.

“I made it all by myself,” He told you.

“Thanks, D, it looks great,” You said before taking a sip.

Jason went to grab himself a beer and you went over to Diana and the others to apologize. They, of course, accepted your apology and went right into normal conversations. You made your way around the patio taking your turn talking to everyone there making sure you spent time with everyone.

You leaned against Jason, your stomachs full, and the sun setting when Bruce hit his glass with a fork to gather everyone’s attention.

“To celebrate the success of Y/n’s cure and the reunion between her and Jason, I say we celebrate with a ball,” Bruce grinned.

Dick scoffed. “Jesus, another one? Don’t you ever get bored of those?”

Bruce’s face fell. Tim covered his mouth to hide his laughter, Mariah elbowed him, Damian just rolled his eyes, you looked back Jason and he just shrugged. Selina leaned forward to smack Dick up against the back of his head.

“Stop being so rude,” Selina hissed.

Dick just shrugged.

“I think a ball will be fun,” You piped up.

Bruce gave you an appreciative grin.

“Ugh, of course, you’d agree,” Tim complained.

Mariah elbowed him a little harder this time.

“Stop it or you’re going to break a rib,” Tim complained.

“He deserves every elbow,” Damian said.

The boys broke into an argument. You shook your head as you slid away from Jason to sit next to Selina.

“God, I’ve missed you guys,” You said.

Selina laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you in close. The rest of the night went without a hitch. You stayed until long into the night. Yours and Mariah’s place wasn’t unpacked yet so Mariah would be staying with Tim at the Manor and you’d be crashing at Jason’s place.

Late in the evening, the two of you finally made it back to Jason’s place. You were dead tired on your feet and you couldn’t wait to fall face first into bed. Jason as sweet as he is to you carried up the stairs on his back. Inside, he took you straight back into the bedroom and dropped you off. You lay there exhausted.

“Come on doll, ya gotta at least undress yourself,” Jason said.

“No I don’t wanna,” You pouted.

“Y/n,” Jason sighed.

“Why do you always gotta ruin my fun?” You asked him.

“Laying in bed in your clothes is fun to you?” Jason asked.

“Well no, but the thought of going to sleep is fun,” You replied.

Jason sighed and took a seat next to you. He pulled your shoes off and you wiggled your toes at him.

“Ha-ha, I won,” You teased.

Jason shook his head as he continued to undress you. He nipped at your shoulders once he pulled you free from your shirt. When you finally undressed, Jason tossed one of his shirts at you before disappearing into the bathroom.

Jason returned with your toothbrush. Giving in, you pulled on his shirt and then followed him into the bathroom. You finished getting ready and then ran from the bathroom and jumped into Jason’s bed.

“You’re such a child,” Jason commented.

“Like you have room to talk,” You replied.

Jason only shook his head before climbing into bed next to you.

“Are you sure you’re up for a ball?” Jason asked.

You nodded.

“Mariah, Selina, and I already have plans to meet up tomorrow to go dress shopping,” You told him.

“God you girls work fast,” Jason scoffed.

“Jay, the ball is Saturday, we don’t have much time,” You told him.

Jason held up his hands in surrender.

“My apologies,” He said.

You smiled.

Jason curled into you and pulled you in close.

“Just don’t have too much fun with the girls tomorrow,” Jason said.

“Yeah, yeah,” You told him.

Jason laughed and you smiled as you closed your eyes falling asleep in his arms.

The next day you met up with Mariah and Selina where you found the last two dresses. Mrs. White was completely thrilled to see you return.

“Another dance?” Mrs. White asked.

“Yes and this time we need three dresses,” You told her.

“I just have the dresses!” Mrs. White exclaimed before running off.

Mrs. White came back with an armful of dresses. She quickly handed out the correct dresses to each girl and then she pushed the three of you towards the dressing room. Mrs. White stood excitedly in the middle waiting for the three of you to emerge.

Selina came out with a tight black and gold dress that she looked dropped dead gorgeous in. Mrs. White clapped her hands as Selina gave her a twirl. A few more minutes passed before Mariah came out to join the others in her own blue and silver dress. Lastly, you stepped out of the dressing room wearing the tight-fitting purple dress.

“Well I think we have some winners,” Mrs. White said.

Selina started to get a little teary eyed.

“Selina, are you crying?” You asked her.

Selina nodded. “You guys just look so beautiful,”

You and Mariah went over to hug her. The three of you stood there and hugged each other. After a while, the three of you separated and then went off to the dressing rooms. You carefully peeled the dress off before stepping back into your clothes. You handed the dress off to Mrs. White for her to bag it up.

The three of you decided to buy three pairs of matching simple black pumps. Finishing up you three gathered your new purchases and packed into the car Alfred had waiting outside.

As Alfred climbed into the driver seat he cast a look at the three of you expectantly.

“I can see today’s trip was successful,” Alfred beamed.

The three of you just smiled before breaking into plans about hair and makeup. Alfred dropped Selina off at her apartment before taking the two of you back to yours. You and Mariah had already decided to meet up with the boys at your apartment to start unpacking.

Alfred bid the two of you goodbye before heading off. Carrying your bags up the stairs you and Mariah were in a fit of giggles when a sharp pain penetrated your stomach. You froze mid-step and let out a small hiss.

“You alright?” Mariah asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, just got a bit of a pain in my stomach,”

Mariah huffed. “See this is why I tell you to eat breakfast. You haven’t eaten at all today,”

You rolled your eyes as your friend went into her normal spiel about maintaining a good diet, blah, blah, but this time you had a feeling it was much more than just hunger pains, you felt a little off, but not enough to worry Jason or Mariah about it. You’d just make sure you took some medicine before you went on with your day.

Upstairs in your apartment, Jason and Tim were already there unpacking. When the two of you entered, Tim was already in Mariah’s space meeting her with a quick kiss before taking her dress from her to hang up. Jason only shook his head at his brother before coming over to you. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders just as he dipped you back to kiss you.

“Show off,” Tim scoffed.

You laughed against Jason’s mouth before he brought you back up. You refused to let him carry your dress for you he trailed behind you as you made your way down to your room. Jason had already built your bed and got your dressers situated how you wanted. You walked into your huge closet and hung up the dress.

“So I was thinking tonight why don’t we do a double date,” Jason suggested.

You whirled around so fast on your heels you almost knocked yourself over.

“Hey, steady there,” Jason said reaching out to you.

“You, king of being anti-social, wants to do a double date?” You asked in surprise.

Jason gave you a look.

“Well if you’re going to tease me about it,” Jason snarled.

You grinned. “I think that would be a great idea,”

Tim came barging into your room.

“So are we doing dinner tonight, or what?” Tim asked.

Mariah came rushing in behind him.

“Sorry for his fucking rude manners,” Mariah scowled.

You laughed. “No worries, I’m used to it,”

She rolled her eyes. “You could have at least given them time to talk,”

“I know my brother he’s straight to the point,” Tim said.

Jason narrowed his eyes at his brother.

You butted in before Jason could start beating up Tim.

“I think that will be fun, but let's get some unpacking done,” You said.

The four of you broke apart. Working together, the four of you tackled the living room and the kitchen. The two groups separated and went into your own bedrooms. Jason worked in your bathroom while you started working on your closet.

You lost track of time in your closet trying to get everything organized the way you liked it. When a shadow fell over you-you looked over your shoulder to see Jason standing in your closet leaning against the doorframe.

“You ready for a bite to eat?” Jason asked.

“Is it dinner time already?” You asked.

“It’s pushing 7,” Jason replied.

“Well shit,” You sighed.

“Come on! Daddy wants some pizza!” Tim exclaimed.

“Don’t ever call yourself daddy ever again,” Mariah said.

“Agreed,” You and Jason said together.

“But,” Tim started.

“Dude, you have no room for argument, nobody wants to call you daddy especially hear yourself call yourself daddy,” Jason replied.

“You guys never let me have anything,” Tim pouted.

“Yeah, you’re welcome for that,” Mariah said.

“Anyways, where are we going to dinner?” Jason asked.

You and Mariah wanted to hit the little cafe not far from your apartment building. You all decided to walk since the night was warm with a little breeze. As usual, Jason and Tim broke out into an argument as you all walked down to the cafe. Mariah sighed as she hooked arms with you.

The rest of the night went was full of good food, laughter, and new memories. This was how life was supposed to be. You were supposed to be by Jason’s side this whole time. The two of you were meant to be together. You were meant to be this amazing team to help keep Gotham saved.

Having Tim and Mariah together only made your happier. Seeing your best friends together and happy was so fulfilling. Leaning into Jason you took a look around the small table seeing the smiles on their faces you let out a small sigh of content. Life was finally starting to feel like it was finally back on track.

“I love you,” You whispered.

Jason smiled, kissed you softly, and then returned to his argument with Tim and Mariah.

Saturday arrived in no time. Everyone showed up at the Wayne Manor to get ready. The girls were in one room and the boys were shoved in another. You were already dressed and had your makeup, you were sitting in the chair getting the final touches on your hair.

“Well, how do I look?” Mariah asked coming out of the bathroom.

“Gorgeous,” You smiled.

“Tim is gonna drop dead,” Selina teased.

Mariah beamed up at her.

After everyone was finally dressed and ready, Selina went to go and get the boys. Dick entered first. He whistled and wiggled his eyebrows at everyone. Babs went over to him and flicked him on the nose.

“Chill dude,” Babs said.

“I can’t help that you all are drop dead gorgeous,” Dick said as he held out his arm towards her.

Babs rolled her eyes before hook her arm with his. Damian and Jon came running in. They ran over to you and Mariah.

“You guys look great!” You exclaimed as you knelt down to straighten his tie.

“Thanks, you look pretty,” Damian said.

“Holy shit,” A voice said from the doorway.

Tim stood there with his mouth wide open. Jon stepped off to the side.

Mariah blushed.

“You look fucking stunning,” Tim said.

“Thanks, you look really handsome yourself,” Mariah said.

Tim came over to take Mariah’s hand. Damian and Jon raced out when Dick and Connor started yelling for them. Selina winked at you as she ushered Tim and Mariah out. Jason came around the corner and he started to shake his head.

“You know I don’t think I’ll ever stop being blown away by you and your beauty,” Jason said.

“Smooth,” You teased.

Jason leaned in and kissed you softly.

“Are you ready to dance the night away?” Jason asked.

You nodded.

“As long as you keep me away from all of those boring old rich people,” You said.

Jason threw back his head and laughed.

“I promise,” Jason said before lacing his hand with yours.

Jason lead you downstairs and towards the ballroom. You could already hear the hundreds of voices echoing through the large manor. Inside the massively large ballroom, you and Jason were immediately swept up into a conversation after conversation.

The two of you were pulled in opposite directions. Dick saved you once and kept you out on the dance floor before being pulled away again. After a couple of hours, Selina saved you and she was a blessing because when anyone tried to take you away from her she politely declined for you.

“I appreciate you,” You told her.

Selina laughed. “I know how overwhelming those old coots can be,”

“Have you seen Jason lately? I have something that I need to tell him,” You said.

“Speak of the devil,” Selina said.

You looked up as Jason walked through the mass of people. You instinctively threw out your hand towards him. Without stopping, he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you away from Selina. Your hands locked together as he pulled you into the middle of the dance room.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jason said as he pulled you against him.

“Me too,” You smiled.

“I have something to tell you,” You said in unison.

Jason laughed.

“You go first,” Jason said.

“No, you can go first,” You replied.

As the two of you argued about who could go first, you didn’t notice the crowd forming around the two of you.

“Fine, I’ll go,” You two said only to break out into a fit of laughter.

You were bursting at the seam you just needed to tell him.

“Will you marry me?”

“I’m pregnant,”

The crowd fell silent. Your eyes widened as Jason’s mouth fell open.

“I’M GETTING A SISTER!” Damian shouted.

Bruce turned towards Selina.

“I’m going to be a grandpa,” He said in awe.

You and Jason stood there in complete shock, a ring box in his hand and your hand on your stomach. Your friends and family behind you erupted into cheers and smiles as they celebrated the news.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader

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monstredemiroirs · 4 years

Text

Dear ------

This will be the very last time I ever write about you. I want you to understand that I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me. I need to close the final chapter in the horror story that was us, and this, to me, is the way to complete the story.

In order for me to progress with my life I had to get rid of you entirely. You’re a blight, and you would never be happy seeing me succeed or be happy. It’s funny. For so long I tried to climb out of the mud we cultivated. And any time you saw me start to finally climb out, you would reach your hand out, knowing that I would always grab it the moment I saw. For the longest time I thought I could pull you out. I was wrong. I finally understand, now, that you never wanted to be pulled out, you wanted to pull me deeper. Back into the pit with you. I finally understand this, and I refuse to ever grab your hand again.

Cutting you out of my life was actually surprisingly easy. I thought I could never do it, that you’ll always, somehow, be a part of my life. But no. I got out. I finally feel the sun shine on my face, and I have absolutely no intention to ever feel as cold, dirty, and dark as you made me feel.

You’re a black hole. A void. You’ve convinced so many people that you’re this good man, but you really aren’t. I know you. I know the deepest recesses of your soul, and truth be told it’s ugly. The fact that you can sit back and live with yourself after all the hurt you’ve caused someone you supposedly “love”(though I doubt you’re capable of such an emotion), and take no action to better yourself or seek help for your addictions, leads me to believe that you feel justified in your actions. You did nothing wrong. It’s not you. It never is. It’s the alcohol. It’s the cocaine. It’s your upbringing. Stop it. You are your own problems. You can’t keep committing horrible acts and then just feel sorry about yourself like that makes things better. It doesn’t and it’s not working. You’re still garbage.

Can I tell you a secret? A long time ago you asked me if you should move up north. Far away from down here. I convinced you to go. I told you that you needed to get out of the poison in this town to start fresh. This is the most selfish act I may have ever committed. I convinced you to leave because I would never be lifted from your spell had you stayed. The cycle would’ve continued, and I wasn’t strong enough at the time to break through. This town isn’t the poison. You are. You’re toxic sludge, and everything you touch succumbs to your toxins.

I know I’m not without my own faults in this. It does take two to tango. The difference is that I own up to my actions, and I sought help in time to become better than the person I was with you. And even with all I did, it doesn’t come close to all the abuse you put me through.

Speaking of abuse, let’s talk about some of it. I heard through the grapevine that you were asking about me. About how I “couldn’t handle you being in a relationship with someone else.” Ha! Really now? Truth be told, I feel sorry for him. He’s going to have to go through all the same pain and hate I endured. And if he knows all the acts you put me through, and continues to stay, then he deserves every last ounce of the pain. But I digress. Since I can’t handle not being with you, let’s talk about some of the things I went through when we were together.

Let’s talk about your disappearing acts. About how you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts for sometimes weeks at a time. You knew me well by then. You know I was a ball of anxiety and you knew every moment you couldn’t just give me confirmation that you’re still alive made things worse. I spent so many nights unable to sleep because I straight up didn’t know if you were alive, if you were hurt, or even if you cared. By the amount of attention you would give me, at least one of those questions was consistently answered, I was just far too in denial to believe it.

Let’s talk about how you were obviously in love with your roommate while we were “together.” You lamented to me, your then partner, your feelings for this man. Oh how you went on for hours about how you two can never be. He was straight, and had no feelings towards you, and it crushed you. You know who it crushed more? Me. I couldn’t leave then. I kept thinking to myself “what can I do to make him feel for me like he feels for him? Is there anything I can do differently? Maybe if I did X, Y, Z, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll see what I can be for him and he’ll love me back.” I was sick. You were worse. Instead of letting me go then and letting me mourn, you continued to string me along like a sick dog on a leash. Oh, and then you drunkenly cheated on me with him. Remember? Remember how you would call my phone for weeks, drunkenly sobbing? Unable to say any words. I knew you were broken, but I never knew how absolutely shattered you were. It was so nice of you to finally tell me about it on a day where I was riding high. So excited about a Halloween Party and a costume contest I won 2nd place. I was so used to being 2nd place with you around. You took such a great day and made it so ugly. You were astounding in your ability to suck any happiness right out of me.

Let’s talk about how you treated me as if I was some shameful disgusting secret to be hidden away from your world. Any time anyone from your life became suspicious, or even was about to see you and I was there, you immediately dismissed me. The Freak. The Monster. He cannot be seen. He’s not worthy of being a part of my life or in my circle. No. I can’t have that. And yet I stayed. I thought that if I showed my loyalty and dedication, maybe someday you would see me as worthy if being part of your court. Wrong. I never stood a chance. Even when you finally, FINALLY, accepted me into your world, I still couldn’t be anything significant to you. I was introduced as your friend, or worse, an ex. An ex that you were currently still seeing, sleeping with, and telling you love behind closed doors. The damage that caused me. I felt so worthless all the time. I believed I was nothing because I couldn’t be anything to you.

Let’s talk about your addictions. You’re an alcoholic. We all know it. No, it is not normal for an average person to down two cases of that disgusting piss-water Bud Lite in one evening. So often you would convince me to take you across county lines at 2 AM just so that you could continue drinking. And no matter how much I begged you to stop, slow down, or maybe take the night off, you absolutely refused. Night after night I saw you pound down drinks and become more belligerent. And the chain smoking. Oh the chain smoking. How I wanted so much for you to just sit with me when I was over and just spend time with me. Hold me. Tell me that I mattered. And you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. Instead, you would just smoke and drink. Did I disgust you that much? So much so that you couldn’t be around me without being so intoxicated you couldn’t function? Smoking so many cigarettes in succession you’d lose your voice? Were you that horrified by my presence? Why continue to keep me around? Questions I probably will never have answered. Not that I honestly care to know any longer, anyhow.

Let’s talk about the worst night. That night. The one you probably had hoped, if I really had ever sent this letter to you, that I wouldn’t bring up. Let’s talk about the time you had your best friend over, who in return invited me over. I remember driving to your house on my highest of highs. Finally. I was being accepted as part of your life. Someone knows my existence. Only to have you open the door and see a face of shock and horror at the sight of me. Let’s talk about how you humored me for a moment, then immediately kicked me out because you couldn’t handle the fact that someone would find out more about me. Do you remember that night? Probably not. That was the night that, in a panic, my car broke down on the highway. I walked home. Distraught, all I wanted was to call my boyfriend so he can talk me down. I called. I learned something that day. I learned that you were good friends with little white lines. A shock to me. I had no idea. You couldn’t form sentences. You went off on wild nonsensical tangents over nothing, and become enraged the moment that I tried to end the call. I was shocked, uncomfortable, and frankly disgusted. It was the first time I was ever disgusted by one of your actions. And the more I tried to distance myself, the more you berated me and called me horrible names. The following morning I begged you to never do that again. I had never asked for anything of you before that. Just this request. You wouldn’t even give me that.

Let’s go deeper. Let’s talk about the night you finally cut me loose. I’m glad you did, but did you have to do it on Christmas Day? After me ending a call because I was horrified at the sound of you snorting a line? After you spoke to my mother the very same day, excited to meet her and be part of my life? Did it really have to be on that day? Needless to say you ruined Christmas for me. And now, five years later, Christmas still brings me back to that night and how worthless and disgusting I felt because of you.

I wish I can say it ended there. I wish I can say that was it over. It wasn’t. Just two days later you convinced me to stay the best of friends. I needed to still feel like you cared. To this day, I wish I knew why. But I agreed. I agreed to remain a close friend, because clearly you still hadn’t taken all that you could away from me. But, truth be told, this is where the hurt took a weird turn.

Suddenly when I wasn’t a romantic partner in your life, now is when you wanted me around the most. You now had a sudden fascination with me. You kept me around. Strung me along. Slept with me whenever you could. And then we get to the end of a big chapter. The night before you moved away.

The weekend before you moved away, you stayed at my house. I let you in. You slept in my bed, ate my food, lived with me. Truth be told, this was the best time I ever felt with you. I felt like you loved me. Truly, truly loved me. I never wanted those days to end. Then came the final night. I left for a few hours. Couldn’t be more than 3-4. I had planned a big good bye for you. I even brought you food. I got home and you were gone. All your bags packed. No trace you were ever there. I felt abandoned. A feeling I felt often, but not and intensely as I felt that night. You told me that you weren’t a fan of goodbyes, and that you stayed at someone else’s house. You robbed me of my goodbye to you. I told you I forgave you. I told you that I forgave a lot. I didn’t. I harbored it all. I had developed a cesspool of anger and self-hatred. And that night made that pool bubble.

Was it over? No. At one point, it felt like it will never end. This was my life. I existed to build you up, and when you inevitably knocked yourself down, I was there to pick up the pieces and rebuild you with what I had left. It felt like I had less and less to work with each time.

You still needed me. I became your security blanket. Oh if I can just remember all the drunken calls at 3 AM because you were all alone. And you knew I’d always answer. And no matter how many times I would beg for you to seek help for your alcoholism, to please visit AA or see a therapist. It fell to deaf ears. You always told me that all the advice I gave you, you took to heart. You were always a fantastic liar.

It suddenly became a consistent cycle. I would distance myself to begin my climb out of the mud, you’d eventually notice and reach your hand out, I pulled, you pulled harder, and I fell in. It always ended with you getting drunk and doing actions that upset and hurt me, even with all the distance. You never seemed bothered by my pain. A simple “sorry” got you far with me. Eventually, you apologies felt like ghosts. Hollow. You made me feel like a ghost too.

Then came the night. The night that I decided that enough was enough. But before the night came the day. Let’s talk about that day.

You called me after a month hiatus. I pretended that I didn’t know why I hadn’t contacted you, but I did. You got drunk the month before and almost had a 3-way with your cousin, you classy beast you. But I digress, you called. Eventually you got to the topic of having a new boyfriend. I had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I was truly happy for you for finding a new romantic partner. But on the other hand, I felt bad for this boy, knowing what he was getting himself into. That was exacerbated by you telling me that you were already performing your now infamous disappearing acts on him.

What dug under my skin, and what started the series of events that led to me stepping out, was when you told me that you were cutting down on your drinking. You were cutting down because you didn’t like being drunk around this boy all of the time. I’m sorry, what? You mean to tell me you couldn’t cut down 1 beer when I literally begged you to, but for this boy you were practically quitting drinking? What made him so special over me? And how insignificant was I that you wouldn’t even try? For someone you claimed you love so much, you really put no effort into meeting me halfway on really anything. It was always me giving it my all, and you taking everything you can get. Loving you was like loving a drunk brick wall.

Shortly after our conversation, when I still had a Facebook, I remember you changed your status to in a relationship. And posted a picture with him. You won accolades from all your friends for living your truth. And a part of me wanted to celebrate with them. However, I couldn’t. All I could think about was how I wanted to be him so badly back in the day, and how you treated me so shamefully. Why was he so special? Why was he the one to displayed to the world and I was considered too disgusting to be seen? Was it because I wasn’t as much of a closet case as you? That’s more than likely the case. Far be it from you to be seen with such a diabolical faggot on your arm. But I digress.

Let’s finally talk about that night. That night, the very same day you told me you cut out drinking, I get one of your infamous drunken 3 AM phone calls. Except this time was different. I’m not answering. You were no longer my responsibility. You had a new boyfriend you paraded around like he was best in show, and it was his turn to learn who you really were behind the smile and charm. I let it go. You couldn’t take no for an answer. You never could. You called, and called until finally I answered. I don’t know who was on the other end of the phone, but it wasn’t you. It was a belligerently drunk monster. One that couldn’t form sentences between howling and sobbing like a coyote at the moon. Something about being found naked on a beach, being yelled at by patrons over your nudity, being in an Uber(despite not having an account), and bleeding from your foot. Truth be told, I thought you had been raped and assaulted. I stayed on the phone with you until what I think was you getting home. I don’t know. I can’t tell. To this day I don’t know more than half of the words that came out of your mouth. All I can think of was the rage I was feeling. You told me you were better. At this point, I genuinely didn’t want you to be my partner. I just wanted my friend to get better with his addictions. I thought you were finally getting there, and that call solidified that you will never get better, because you probably still think that you don’t have a problem.

I took a half day out of my job because of you. I took a half day because I didn’t sleep that night. I was convinced you weren’t going to make it through. Do you remember what I sent you that following day? It was the information for an AA center in your town. It wasn’t funny any more. It was never funny or cute. It was dangerous and scary and you couldn’t do it alone. And all I got as a response was “sorry.” Not accepting a problem. Not even a false promise that you’ll try it. Just another one of your constant ghost apologies. As hollow and false as you are.

This was my breaking point. I starred at that excuse for an apology and I thought to myself “Is this what I want for the rest of my life? To never launch because you can’t let me do it? You need me to be as low as you. You need it to feel alive. You need to have that control over something weaker than you. Not any more. I am not your fucking clown any longer. I decided that this was it. I don’t need the fleeting moments of feeling your love followed by the hours, days, months, and years of agony you make me feel.

I wanted to be free of the poison you had coursing through my veins. I wanted to climb out of the mud, stare at the sun, and grow tall. That is why I blocked you out of my life. That is why I cut all ties and made sure that there was no way you can ever dig your claws into me again. It was never about how I “couldn’t handle you seeing someone else.” If that’s what you need to tell yourself to keep denying the blight that you are, then keep thinking that way. It’ll keep you going that much further. I honestly can keep going on with more, but I feel this letter really is long enough.

So you asked around how I am doing, allow me to divulge you one last time. I am amazing. I actually sought help for my demons. I went to therapy. I worked hard on myself. For the first time in my life I have self respect, and self love. A feeling I would never be able to develop with your influence. I am fantastic in my finances, got a new car, and have an amazing support network of friends and family that I would never give up for anything in the world. And how are you? You don’t need to answer. I can take a wild guess. Still drunk. Still sad. Still self-hating. Still pathetic. And it is no longer my problem.

So like I said, this is the last time I’ll ever write about you. This is also the last time I’ll ever speak of you, and think of you. I relinquish you from my mind, body, and soul. I free you of me. Good bye, ------.

May you never cross my mind again,

Me.

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totallynotalesbian1212 · 7 years

Text

Stars, pt. 5

Sorry this took so long, life happened. anyways, hope yall enjoy this!

TW: abuse implied

Eliza could do this. After all, it was just a phone call. She had been working up the courage all day to actually call Eliza, and was finally dialing the number, fingers shaking as she pressed the call button. She held the phone to her ear, her heart beating faster with every tone.

“Hello?” Maria's voice came through the phone, and Eliza held back a sigh of relief.

“Hi Maria!” Eliza said into the phone, hearing giggling from the doorway.

“Hey, how's it going, Liza?” Maria asked, voice smooth and silky, lower than Eliza’s but just as beautiful.

“Eliza’s got a giiirlfriieend,” Peggy giggled, walking into the room. Eliza rolled her eyes and continued to talk to Maria.

“I'm great! Um, I was actually wondering if you wanted to come with me to go skating, Angelica’s taking me. Or if you don't want to do that we could always go for a walk in the park, or a movie, or-”

“Hey, I really wish I could, but I actually have a date tonight, sorry.” Eliza was glad someone had stopped her rambling, but her heart dropped at what Maria had said.

“You, you have a date?” Eliza cursed at how stupid she sounded. Of course she was dating someone! She was the prettiest girl in school!

The pause on the other line felt like an eternity. “..... Yeah, I've got a boyfriend, James.”

“Oh, okay. Well I guess maybe next time. Talk to you later I guess,” Eliza sighed.

“Okay, by Liz.”

Eliza flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration. “Angie! You didn't tell me she had a boyfriend!”

“What?” Angie peaked in from behind the door, reading glasses still on.

“Maria. You didn't tell me she was dating someone!”

“Oh, yeah, I sort of forgot, sorry Liz. Yeah, she's dating that creepy kid James.” Angie took off the glasses, walking in and sitting on Eliza’s bed.

“What am I s’posed to do? I still like her!” Eliza sighed. Angie just giggled at her sister.

“It's okay, Beth. Listen, I doubt they'll even stay together that long, James is a total dick. And even if they do, I'm sure you'll find another crush to obsess over. Just hang in there, okay?” Angie patted her sister's head, ignoring the sound of Peggy walking into the room.

“And I could always beat James up, then you could take the girl,” Peggy shrugged as if she wasn't talking about fighting a high school boy, “he's no match for the mighty Pegs!”

“Please don't fight anyone, Peggy,” Angie sighed, kissing Eiza on the forehead before standing, “I have to finish some homework now, but good luck, Liz. See you in the morning.”

Eliza groaned before burying her face in her pillow, regretting her life choices.

___________________

John, of course, was dealing with his own phone call. He watched as his phone buzzed to life for the third time, the same number popping up. He had ignored Alex the first two times, but if Alex was anything, he was determined. John figured it was shut him up to answer, so reluctantly he picked up the phone.

“Alex what do you need?”

“Oh good you answered me! I know you told me not to call you because the whole you hating me thing, but I figured that was void now because we talked the other day. I wanted to talk about this thing-”

“Alex, stop rambling. You have two minutes.” John rolled his eyes, hoping this would be less painful than he expected.

“Fine, fine. So, I was wondering if maybe we could go out again sometime? It wouldn't even have to be any commitment, just one date, please.”

John held back an exasperated sigh. “Alex, why do you even want me? There are a million other kids that you haven't cheated on that would be more than happy to go out with you. Just leave me alone.”

“Because I want to date you! John please just listen-”

John expected to feel relieved when he hung up the phone, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed a little more like regret. Why should he care anyways? Alex had cheated on him, turned the rest of the school against him, then expected another chance? He shouldn't care. He shouldn't feel a thing when he gets a bit of revenge. He shouldn't find the offer of a date so tempting. He stared at his phone, debating calling back and apologizing, but before he could Maria's number appeared on the screen.

“Hey Mar, what's up?”

“Hey, John?” Maria sniffled, “Um, so I just got done with my date at James’ house, and I need you to makeup before I go home. Please? I know it's late, it's just my parents and school tomorrow and-”

“Hey, hey, it's fine. Meet me at the window. I can do your makeup then you can go home”

“I swear I owe you my life.” Maria managed a laugh through the phone, which somehow sounded sadder than her sniffles.

“Hey, what are friends for?”

___________________

Maria walked into John’s backyard, chocolate bars from a gas station down the street in one hand, ice pack pressed to her right eye in the other. She figured if she was going to bother John this late, she should bring some sort of gift.she knocked on the side of the house, taking the ice off her eye.

John opened the window, dropping a backpack to the ground before climbing out himself. “Hey, rough night?”

The tears she had tried so hard to keep at bay came back to her eyes as she nodded, hugging him as he opened his arms. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re here now, you’re safe.”

She sniffled before pulling away slowly and nodding. “I know, I’m fine, I just need this covered up before i go home so my parents don’t see.” She pointed to the bright purple bruise over her eye.

“Did he do this?” John plopped onto the grass, opening the backpack and unpacking its contents aggressively. “You know you could just leave him. You could find a new beard, or you could just say he was a jerk and leave it at that. I worry about you, a lot.”

Maria shook her head, the tears only coming down harder, she couldn’t leave him, not yet. It was the only cover she had to stay in the closet. Everyone already hated her, she didn’t need to give them another reason. It was easier this way, get pushed around a bit but have her identity protected.”You know I can’t do that. Someone will find out. I just can’t.”

“So what? Maria, no one cared that I was gay. Literally no one will care.” John found the bottle of color corrector and began dabbing it on the bruise, making Maria wince. “This really can’t keep happening! He’s hurting you!”

“But he loves me! He said he does! He cares about me, and he’s trying to help me. He doesn’t want me to be outed. Either way, I don’t have a choice. I have to stay, there’s nothing else I can do.”

“If he does this again I’m breaking you two up myself. This can’t keep happening. I don’t care what I have to do, fight him, get a guidance counselor to listen, anything that has to happen. I can’t let you keep getting hurt like this.”

Maria sighed and started to argue, but sighed and nodded her head. She would just have to be more careful, not upset James. She let John finish her makeup before getting up and dusting herself off. She threw John one of the chocolate bars. “Here, I figured I’d better give you something to repay you, thanks. I’ve gotta go before curfew, but I’ll see you monday.”

“Bye Mar, love you.”

Maria thought about Alexander on the walk home. She had seen him as her escape from James. Just sleep with him once, and the entire school would think she was straight. So she made out with him, one night in some sophomore’s bedroom that she thought would be the solution to all her problems. She was drunk and lonely and depressed and damn she just wanted a way out. Then James found out. He told her it would never work, that it would never convince them. One wrong move, and everyone would know. So she stayed with him. Now here she was, bruises and all, completely helpless. She couldn’t just walk away, could she? There wer to many things resting on her, too many traps around her. She was paralyzed and she couldn’t do anything about it.

But what if she could just walk away? What if no one really cared. She could ask Eliza out, she could stop hiding, she could be herself! No. that could never happen. The world was stacked against her, and happiness wasn’t a possibility. She didn’t deserve hap she would never reach it.

#marliza #stars #maria reynolds #eliza schuyler #alexander hamilton #john laurens #yall enjoy this #Also im sorry for any mistakes #im trying to keep on schedule and failing oops

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topfics · 7 years

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Truce

Tyler Joseph X Reader (AU)

A/N: alright so this is going to be a triggering fic, it has a lot to do with suicide attempts, severe depression, etc. this came to my mind this week, after hearing Logic’s song about suicide. I thought it was incredibly powerful, as someone who wanted to commit suicide for a long time. I really, truly believe that life is worth living. And I know many of you are struggling. Maybe some of you aren’t quite sure what to do. And the simple answer to that is to get help. Talk to someone you trust. Don’t let those thoughts define who you are. And if you ever need someone to talk to, please know that I am ALWAYS here. I’ll leave hotlines down below. Stay strong. Stay alive.

Trigger Warnings: suicide attempts, severe depression, language

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!

“I never thought that we would be in the same position as we were four years ago, Tyler. Funny how things change, huh? I remember standing here too, wanting to end my life. And I remember you coming over to me… pushing through the crowds of people, the barricades… and you slowly walked towards me. We didn’t know each other at all… you just strongly felt like you needed to save my life. I remember everything you said to me. But now it looks like it’s my turn to save you.”

—————————————–

The sun was rising, and you soaked it all in. Beautiful shades of pink, red, and orange filled the morning sky, making the city look even more breathtaking. Smiling slightly to yourself, you could feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. You were going to miss these kinds of sunrises. You stood on a bridge, overlooking the skyline. You had finally made up your mind. It was the day. Struggling for far too long, you made the decision that you didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Your expression going blank, you stood on that bridge for hours, waiting for the right moment to go over and jump. Eventually, you climbed over without really realizing it. What were you waiting for? Maybe there was a part of you that didn’t want to do this. Perhaps there was a reason why you waited so long to do this.

People began to notice immediately, and sirens were blaring in the distance. Your eyes began to look down at the rushing body of water that was about to take your life. You shut your eyes and took in a deep breath. You could hear workers calling for you not to jump. Through your vision you could see them setting up barricades to not allow anyone near who could risk you jumping even sooner.

You often wondered why you didn’t stay in the comfort of your own home… could it be that were too many awful memories? Or was it a way of telling you that you shouldn’t be even thinking that this was a possibility for you?

Shaking your head, you started to block off the words coming from the police officer’s mouth. You didn’t want anyone to stop you. No one cared for you until now, right? Life began to lose its level of worthiness when you were young. No one could ever explain what was going on. Hardly anyone ever listened. Alone and abandoned, you felt like there was no other choice.

Through your own thoughts you could hear the officers trying to push someone away. Nothing seemed to be working. The guy was determined to come talk to you. You opened your eyes once more and looked down at the body of water, wondering if it was even going to work. What would you do if it didn’t? Your mind was racing a million miles an hour. It was dizzying, exhausting to even be standing there.

Suddenly, you could hear the man’s voice, trying to get you off the ledge.

“Hey there…” he began, his voice a little shaky. The whole entire street was watching him, counting on him to save someone’s life today. The man clears his throat. “My name is Tyler… what’s yours?” he coos.

You slowly turn your head towards him, tears streaming down your face. His warm brown eyes greeted you with love. He gives you a soft smile and slowly inches his way over to you.

“I’m… I’m Y/N…” you reply quietly.

“I think that’s a beautiful name. Why don’t you come over the bridge and let’s talk.”

You shake your head rapidly and start to cry harder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m right here. I’m gonna be here for you. I know we don’t know each other but… to me it’s worth getting out of my comfort zone if that means I’m going to save someone today.”

“No… no one cares for me… and if they do they all leave and I’m left all alone again and I don’t want to deal with that anymore.” you cry out.

“I know it’s hard. I’ve dealt with the same things. People suck. I just think that you haven’t found the right people yet. It takes time. And it may seem like it’s been forever, but I can honestly say that I don’t even think I’ve met the right people yet. And maybe you can change that for me. And hopefully I can change that for you.”

“I don’t have anyone! Everyone left me! I’m all by myself! There’s nothing for me here! No one would care if I was gone! The world would keep spinning.”

“Don’t think like that. I know it’s just the voices in your head. Trust me, I know. And it’s taken me a long time to convince myself otherwise. And sometimes, it’s still a battle even today. But I promise you. People care. They’d be devastated if you jumped.”

“You don’t even know me. You don’t know shit about me or what I’ve been through.”

“That might be true. But I know that we’re both mentally ill. That we deserve better than what our brain is telling us. That those thoughts that’s constantly telling us no one cares, or that the world would be better off without us… that we’re alone… they’re the enemy. Those ideas this seed of depression is planting… it’s all a lie. I know it’s hard to believe. But you need to start telling that voice to fuck off. It doesn’t get to define who you are.”

“It’s so damn hard… I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. I don’t want to be here anymore. No more sleepless nights, no more nights where I cry until morning… no more being useless.”

“You aren’t useless. Everyone has a part on this planet. Some might be more obvious than others, but you have one. I do. I might not know it yet. But who knows? It could be this moment, right here, right now.”

“I can’t do it anymore… I just can’t.” you whisper. So many thoughts were running through your mind. A part of you wanted to believe him and come back over the edge to safety, yet another part wanted to take that jump. You were conflicted, unknowing of what to do. Why does he even care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. Why was he insisting? Sure, he was genuine in what he was saying, but how could you be sure that he was going to stick around if you did decide to step back over?

“Why the hell do you even care…?” anger began filling your voice, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was interfering with your plans?

Tyler paused for a few moments before answering.

“If I’m being honest, it’s because I’m sick of losing people to suicide. Even if I don’t know them. I’ve had close friends who caved in and took their lives. I don’t want to ever go through that again… I don’t want their loved ones to go through that pain. No one should have to grieve over a death that was made by choice. It sucks. That pit in your stomach, wondering if there was something you did to help them push themselves to that decision. Wondering if there was something you could’ve done differently to prevent it. Only having those memories way back when. Knowing that their parents or younger siblings outlived them.” he breaks eye contact with you before continuing. Tyler takes in a deep breath and begins once again.

“Suicide… it’s like being a suicide bomber. You take it in and the people closest to you are the ones who experience the most pain. You leave a mark… a scar on them forever. They will have to live with the trauma that you inflicted on them. You know… to help me get through tough times like this… I would tell myself over and over again that nights will come to an end, but the sun will rise and I need to try again. That I needed to stay alive. We’re all going to die. But our lives are free now. We need to take pride in that.”

You looked down at your feet, wondering what battles he was facing himself. Did he really know what you were going through? Was it possible that you weren’t alone? That other people had similar mindsets?

“Please, Y/N, stay alive. Stay alive for me.”

You turn to face him, your eyes bloodshot from the countless nights being awake and from crying so much. Shaking began to take over your body, and you couldn’t stop. Your mind was a menace, continuing to tell you to jump, and your heart was battling, telling you to listen to Tyler. To finally open up and trust in someone. You gripped the rails with all your might, causing your knuckles to turn white.

Your body slowly began to move, eventually climbing back over to safety. Tyler strides over to you, embracing you in his strong arms. Comfort overwhelmed you and you sobbed into his shirt.

“I’m so scared, Tyler.” you confessed.

“I know… I know… but you don’t need to be.” he offered. He stroked your hair and continued to hold you until you were calm.

All around you, cries of happiness filled your ears. You looked around slightly to see that people were actually relieved that you chose to live. It was comforting… to know that strangers valued your life.

“Hey…” Tyler tilted your chin up. “Here’s a little tip for surviving the nights… sometimes to stay alive you have to kill your mind. Whether that be with going to bed with music, exercising until you’re tired enough, drinking some warm milk or hot cocoa to calm you down… it helps. I promise. Getting your brain to shut down is key. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. I promise you’ll be okay.”

You nodded slightly, allowing him to carry you to the ambulance. He sets you down and they begin to take vitals, making sure that you were in a good state physically.

“I need help… don’t I…?” you inquired.

Tyler gives you a reassuring smile.

“We all need a little help sometimes. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll be sure to visit you and write you, Y/N. I promise. I’m not leaving. I told you. I’m not a person who breaks promises.”

You smile and him and nod. That was the first real smile you’ve had in awhile. It felt good. You got up from the car and walked over to him once more, giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you, Tyler.”

—————————————–

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imvickyg · 5 years

Text

You

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t know where this message is gonna end. But, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for the endless amount of protection, support, love, laughter, honesty, and adventure. When I say adventure, I don’t mean that we’ve been to many places. Having you in my life has been it’s own adventure in itself when it comes to figuring out why we are in each other’s lives. And, in this adventure, you have never once hurt me as so many people have in the past. Things feel like they are flowing the way they should. I’m learning the way you see me through your eyes and, honestly, I’ll never understand it. You don’t speak on it too often, but I never forget when you do. You are proud of me. That’s one thing I appreciate so much. I’ll never forget how you told me to never settle and that I deserve to climb as high as I possibly can. Those words have stuck with me in everything I do or think about. You see the desire and patience that drives me to do my best. You see my ability to compete with myself to do better which challenges others, but, also, threatens those who take it the wrong way. You deal with the aftermath of all the people who have hurt me or still attempt to do so, making me feel stronger in every attack that comes for the target on my back. The one thing you don’t do is make me feel like all these bad things that happen to me are my fault. Instead, you remind me of my goals, my strengths, and what I can do to move on from these battles. You have seen me torn and healing from the relationships (friends or more) that broke my heart. When we met, I was not at my worst, but I was falling into a hole again. You had watched me have constant panic attacks over someone thousands of miles away, over a lost path, over a “brother”, over a “best friend.” And, this was all when we first met. It made being with you hard because I could not accept what I had in front of me. It felt too good to be true. I pushed you away, but fought so hard not to. You knew how to get me talking, how to stop my head from spinning, how to make me focus on what was in front of me. And, I just want to say... I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I didn’t realize I had done so until I moved away. All my overthinking stopped me from being happy and that is my fault. I used to have panic attacks when I felt overly happy with you because I didn’t want to think it was real. But, every moment with you was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.

Then, you needed space and I tried my best to give it to you. I was so scared of losing you though. You started pushing me away, but kept me close at the same time, what you tell me “was for a reason.” You say you were content and so was I. But, at some point, I stopped believing you were. I stopped hoping everything would go back to the way it was. I kind of gave up. But, several people kept highlighting the little things that said you were still holding on to me. I didn’t think it was true. And, there was so much I wanted to say to you before I left. There was no time and I couldn’t muster up the words to describe what I felt. You knew I loved you. I’ll never know when you caught on, but the fact you called me out on it scared the shit out of me. You tried to get me to admit it, but I was stubborn. I left without saying it all out loud.

“I want to say so many things.”

“I already know.”

You always knew apparently. I hate that you saw and continue to see right through me. You’re one of the rare few that can.

I left and the first month was tough. I, unintentionally, tried replacing you. It didn’t go too well and became this whole mess. I was able to distract myself from thinking about you all the time. I worked as hard and often as I could. I was with him every night. But, at some point, it wasn’t enough. I would call or text you when I was high because I missed you like crazy. I was able to keep myself from bugging you so often out of respect for myself, for you, and for her...

You had a new girl and all I kept telling myself was that you deserved to be happy. A part of me knew she wouldn’t last and I kept my mouth shut. The attacks in my life started coming and you were the only one that knew how to make me listen. You were the only one who could make it better. I always called you after I had been crying and you made me laugh as always. I would vent about my problems and, somehow, that lead you to start complaining about her. You started comparing us, reminding me how it was when we were together. That’s when I started realizing she was a rebound. And, yet, I was still in denial about it. She hated me for reasons I’ll never understand. She annoyed you with her hatred for me. Some of my friends said it was cause she knew you loved me. I thought that was a crazy notion.

It had been 6 months of you two being together, me having moved away, not seeing you. Eventually, you started complaining about how you wanted to break up with her, but you didn’t have the heart to do it. My “love life” started falling off a cliff and I ended up hurt. I never said anything about it and you always reminded me of what I deserved. She started saying things out of her ass and you grew resentful towards her. I grew angry with a total stranger that dared to make you feel like a monster.

The comparisons grew and, one night, you got really drunk. Every truth you had kept inside came out and shocked me beyond compare. You talked about me like I was some kind of angel, like I was special. I almost cried from all the nice things you said. And, they were all things you said had made you fall for me. That’s when the possibility of “us” popped up again. You asked me so many questions as if you had been thinking about being with me again. Said it was always in the back of your mind. You talked about us having kids, meeting your parents, moving in together, etc. It was a lot of information I never thought I would hear. And, then, you called me out again.

“Why do you love me?”

I hated when you did that. You’ve never been able to understand what I see in you. You pit yourself to be this monster that can never be loved. You said you failed us which broke my heart cause I had never seen it that way...

That night, all my feelings I had tried pushing to the side for 6 months, started knocking at my door again. Of course, I tried to side track myself since you still hadn’t broken up with her. I still kept myself busy. Honestly, it took me 3 days to process all your feelings that you had never spoken about. But, when I finally did, that’s when I was reminded of that initial gut feeling that has told me, since the first day of class, that I needed to be with you. I tried to ignore it.

I made a new friend at some point and went out every night. That friend was able to open me up like you did and get me to talk about you. I told him EVERYTHING. And, in the end, all he said was.

“He loves you and you love him.”

I pretended like I didn’t hear it. He made me look him straight in the eye. I still had never said the L word about you or to you, even after 9 months of denial. He got me to say it out loud and, at first, it scared me. I didn’t like saying those words again... That was the very thing I did not want was to love someone again or even say those words again. My friend proceeded to predict that soon you would break up with that crazy person and come straight to me, telling me that you loved me. I thought that was crazy.

What was actually crazy was, a week or two after that conversation, it happened. You broke up with her and, literally, came straight to me. You drove fuckin far at 3 in the morning. You had asked me if you should come down and I was so scared to answer. I started overthinking. I didn’t want to be a second option. I didn’t want to be a comfort zone. But, I knew damn well that your stubborn ass doesn’t drive anywhere for just anything or anyone, especially not at 3AM. What convinced you to do that? I will never know. It scared me, but made me excited. And, finally I said yes.

You were right there, in front of me, once again. Your green eyes, those tattoos I love to trace, that voice that calms me, all in front of me. But, it didn’t feel real. I was in shock. For some reason, everything seemed different than I remembered even though nothing had changed. That night with you, I was happy, but I couldn’t feel it cause I was in so much shock. When you left home, it didn’t even hit me that I had been with you until the next morning on my way to work. I was in an amazing mood. Something felt right again.

Your trips to come see me continued. You made the effort I was afraid I would not see. And, I started going up there. Everything was flowing between us again. I could have the worst week, but if I saw you at the end of it, I was fine. You kissed me after not having kissed me for over a year. It was too quick for me to react to and I was mad that I could not take it in. Another day, you finally kissed me longer. I felt my heart do the same thing it used to do when you would kiss me, but my mind also started pushing you away. So, it was this weird in between where I didn’t know what I was feeling till after you left and I wanted more. I saw the appreciation of me in every one of your actions as if you were trying to make up for taking me for granted.

My car accident was one of the worst days of my life, but you made it so much easier. I’m so thankful you were there the entire time I was in the hospital, making me laugh, causing the heart monitor to go crazy. You took me home with you, literally waking up every time I adjusted my sleeping position to make sure I was okay. And, if I felt a panic attack trying to emerge, I reminded myself that I was with you. I remember waking up, one of the many times that I did, and feeling your arm wrapped around me. In that moment, I felt safe, at peace, and like nothing could make me cry. Sadly, this resulted in a separation anxiety that I’ve been battling.

Just two weeks ago, I saw you cry for the first time. The man who I consider to be the strongest person I know was crying. To see you like that broke my heart and I knew what you needed to hear. And, for some reason I didn’t hesitate.

“I love you.”

I said those fuckin’ words without regret and without overthinking. My focus was too much on trying to put you at peace that I completely glossed over the fact that you mumbled back that you loved me too. That night I held you like I used to. If I tried to get up, you would grab me tighter and put your head closer to the crook of my neck. I kissed your forehead and loved you in every bit that I could to try and make you feel better.

Progress is always being made. You are the most stubborn dumbass ever and that makes this adventure what it is. My patience with you is so easy to have. You keep showing me reasons to trust you and stay. I continue to fall for you in every word you say, every move you make, every touch you give. I’ve never felt more sure of something in my life. That will always be true of whatever this has become. I will not complain about this process we have going on. I will never complain that I do not have someone who cares. I will never take you for granted again.

I pray to God that he guides us in our path. I pray he brings peace to our minds and hearts after having been through what we have in our pasts. God put you in my life for a reason and I will forever be grateful. May we be lead to something that will benefit us both in the future, whether it be as life long friends or something more.

I love you Michael Anthony Preston.

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