#like okay i get that because toxic forgiveness and toxic positivity has silenced a lot of victims over the years
Lunar Therapy: Strict Parent Recovery
Again, I don’t know what else to call this one. Perfectionism? Imposter syndrome? Crippling anxiety and fear of failure and abandonment that you carry your entire life? I believe that…
Steven Grant
Does not remember what that’s like. He has good self esteem and is able to be proud of all of his accomplishments and forgive himself when he messes up or falls short. That being said,
He’s got a lot of experience helping Marc with all of that, because he definitely does remember what that’s like. Steven has learned to praise the accomplishments of the people he loves and to never invalidate feelings of inadequacy. He has learned to notice the body language of someone who’s over-extending themself. Most importantly, he’s learned how how to notice the guilt and fear that eats at you.
Sometimes he’s overly sweet and he doesn’t understand why that makes you feel worse. He says things like “You’re allowed to not be perfect, you know. You don’t have to do things just because other people expect you to do them.”
He has to take a more dominant approach. Instead of saying “it’s okay that the dishes aren’t done.” He learns to say “Darling, you need to take a rest before you try to do any more work.”
Steven is better at helping with the bigger stresses. “It’s alright that you didn’t get that big promotion at work. It’s alright that you had to pause your plans to go to college. You’re doing so many good things. I love you just the way you are and I love everything that you’ve accomplished.”
Marc Spector
Knows what it’s like. He knows the panic of hearing the car door outside and cowering in shame because you know the chores aren’t done to their expectations. He knows the careful art of hiding failed quizzes or dodging questions about math class or hiding your baseball glove under your pillow because you know that homework always comes first.
And he knows that you know that it’s safe now. No one’s going to yell at you because there’s dirty laundry in the basket. No one’s going to make you skip dinner because you didn’t turn in your term paper on time. No one’s going to grab their belt from the closet because you should know better than this.
Steven has taught him what helps and what doesn’t. Toxic positivity can be just as bad as silence, so he resists the urge to tell you that you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. He’s so proud of you, so in awe of you and your strength and resilience and vigor, but he doesn’t say that outright.
He’s a man of few words, but he makes all of them count. “It’s okay, they’re just clothes.” “Don’t beat yourself up, you’ve been working hard.” And sometimes, he knows the most effective thing to say is “Don’t sweat it, baby. Everyone is lazy sometimes. You’re allowed to be lazy. You’re human.”
Marc uses gestures to calm you, too. He’ll hug you from behind while you’re cooking dinner. He’ll shut off your desk lamp if you stay up too late perfecting that last homework project. He’ll call in sick at your work, letting you watch from across the room as he dials the number, if he believes that you’re not allowing yourself the mental or physical break you deserve.
Jake Lockley
Remembers what it’s like. He remembers the crack of the belt and the slamming of doors and the hungry nights locked in his childhood bedroom. He never quite learned to feel guilty for whatever he was being punished for. Most of the time, he wasn’t around for that part anyway. Jake never spent time placing blame on himself.
That being said, he would never, ever, ever let someone else feel that blame. He would argue with you until his face turned blue if you ever expressed to him that you felt like you weren’t enough. That you felt like you needed to be more perfect.
Jake doesn’t take the time to praise your accomplishments, not during the time that you’re having these feelings. He chooses to focus on the fact that you must unlearn the feelings. You must learn to forgive yourself for your perceived shortcomings.
When you come home from a bad day, or when he comes home to find a sink of dishes or an un-mopped floor, he’ll make you celebrate. He’ll make the two of you get your favorite meal and watch your favorite movie and do whatever else you normally do to have fun.
“You can’t beat yourself up. You have to say instead “hey, I really sucked today, and the world kept on spinning. I disappointed myself and the sun still rose and set like it always done. If that isn’t cause for celebration, then nothing in the world is.”
When you actually do hit milestones and check off boxes on your list of goals, he treats you like the deity he already thinks you are. Forget food and movies, he’ll call you out of work or school or wherever and take you on an adventure halfway around the world. Jake will buy you a new outfit, new jewelry, anything to make you feel good about yourself. On the trip, he’ll tell everyone about your accomplishment as the reason you’re “celebrating” by taking a vacation.
Soupy, weird and specific thoughts. Idk I didn’t want to really get into the feelings and situations that stem from strict parents, because experiences are so different and also I don’t want to trigger myself lol. I find myself being a lot harder on myself than my roommates concerning how I treat our coming areas and shared chores, and I’m a very much perfectionist when it comes to school even though there’s no reason for me to need to be.
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So when do you guys accept apologies fr??
Like are apologies just not meant to be accepted anymore?
God, I don’t want to be that type of person but what are people meant to do, honestly
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first impressions
pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader
summary: [request] “hmm prompts... Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” i like where your brain is at anon! but why not a little bit of both? ;)
word count: 3.7k
warnings: pretty fluffy, some angst, toxic family dynamics
author’s note: this has been super lightly edited so pls forgive any mistakes <3 click here if you’d like to be added to my taglist & all reblogs are super appreciated!
You felt slightly out of place driving through the neighborhood of your youth in the passenger seat of Ransom’s beloved Beamer. Thinking of how your parents would react to your boyfriend, let alone his lifestyle of excess, made your heart rate increase, and you shuffled a bit in your seat unconsciously as a result of your nerves. As if he were reading your thoughts, Ransom set a steady hand on your knee and gave it a tiny reassuring squeeze before parking in front of the curb ahead of your home.
Nervously exiting the vehicle, you watched wordlessly as Ransom grabbed your overnight bags from the trunk, and hauled them over his shoulders. Still saying nothing, you reached out and grabbed Ransom’s hand, constricting his circulation as you strolled up to your door, and rang your own doorbell.
When your mother whipped open the door and offered you an excited grin, you finally were able to let out the breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.
“Goose!” your mother cheered, squeezing the life out of you while you snuck a glance at Ransom who seemed rather amused by the childhood pet name. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away from you and looking him up and down.
“I’m Ransom, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he announced with confidence, offering your mom friendly smile, before glancing back over at you and raising his brows the slightest bit.
“Finally putting a face to the name, then. I’ve heard all about you from this one. Come on in,” she gestured for the two of you to enter. “Y/N can show you to her room, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour,” with that, your mother was off, and you were once again alone with Ransom.
You showed him up to your room, where he set down the bags and flopped down onto your bright pink duvet.
“Goose, huh?” he questioned, rolling on the hyperfeminine twin mattress.
“Shut up,” you mumbled, before sitting down next to the headboard of the bed.
“Do you think she liked me?” Ransom asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Did you tell her good things about me?”
“Since when do you care about what other people think of you?” you giggled a bit, and planted your fingers in Ransom’s hair.
“I care because…” he thought for a moment, calculating just how honest he wanted to be. “I care because this is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and I want my future parents-in-law to like me.”
“We’ve been together for like, a year, Ran. But I applaud your commitment to me,” you massaged his scalp as you spoke, and ignored the butterflies floating throughout your torso at his mention of marriage.
“Well? Do you think she likes me?” he asked once again.
“Mmm, I like when you care about things,” you pressed a little peck to his forehead, and hovered a bit over his face. “She said like, 20 words to you, max. But after dinner I’m sure they’ll like you. At least I hope they will.”
Ransom playfully swatted at you. “How comforting. Wait, stay right there,” he reached up and held the hand that was massaging his scalp in place.
——
By the time dinner came around, you seemed to have switched emotions with your partner, as you were feeling much more relaxed, and Ransom on the other hand, was not.
He kept a hand on your knee under the table in what seemed like a grounding technique, squeezing every now and then while your father plated your meals.
“So, how did you two meet?” your father questioned, sitting down beside your mom.
“We met while we were volunteering at the Humane Society together,” you gushed, glancing over at your partner who was nervously sipping his water, then back at your parents. “He always seemed so pissed in the beginning. I mean, the amount of times I saw him growling obscenities while tugging on harnesses, or playing the most unenthusiastic games of fetch I’d ever seen in my life is astounding,” you laughed softly, and looked over at Ransom once again as if you were cueing him to speak.
“Yeah, I really didn’t like it there at first. Not really a dog guy, but my grandad said it was community service or no allowance, and I was not interested in the latter,” he chuckled awkwardly and received confused expressions from your parents, which granted you an SOS squeeze on the knee.
“Um, anyway, one day we were closing, and I went into the last cat suite, and there grumpy old Ransom was, cuddling with Garfield, you know, the old cat with the three legs, and it was literally the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Especially ‘cause Garfield is so hard to please,'' you paused to take a bite of the food in front of you. “We started talking more after that, then he asked me out, and of course I said yes. I guess the rest is history.”
“Aw, Goose, that’s so cute!” your mom cooed, but the moment didn’t last too long.
“What do you do for work, Ransom?” Your dad asked, tilting his beer at the man.
“I’m currently in between jobs. But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work.”
Your father nodded wordlessly and paused for a second. “Volunteering get you a Beamer?”
“Dad!” You interrupted in a yelp, “please.” You frowned as you looked between the men.
“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a good question, but I got it as a gift a few years back. And, you know, my family’s comfortable.”
Before your father could respond, your mom popped in to save the conversation. “No money talk at the table, please. Tell me more about your relationship,” she gave both of you a sympathetic look.
——
After that, dinner went on without much of a hitch, and you agreed upon doing the dishes with your mother while your father and boyfriend prepared a little fire outside.
“He seems sweet,” she commented after a long period of silence.
“I’m glad you think so. He was really worried about you not liking him, and honestly, I was too,” you rinsed the last glass before setting it in your dishwasher.
“I just want you to be careful, okay? When you have that much money, people do strange things, or say things they don’t mean and expect you to just take it. He seems like a good boy, but just don’t let your guard completely down. The last breakup you went through-“
“Stop, I get it,” you sighed softly.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just don’t want to see you that hurt again,” she gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Let’s go stop your dad from catching a murder charge,” she beckoned you to follow her out to the backyard, where your boyfriend and dad were… laughing together? If you weren’t so relieved, it’d almost be off-putting.
The rest of the night went alarmingly well, Ransom finding a way to bond with both of your parents after an awkward first half of the evening. As the two of you crawled into your tiny bed and spooned while drifting off to sleep, Ransom slurred a tired ‘I think they liked me,’ into your ear.
From that point on, Ransom’s position within your family only became better. For the first time, he was welcomed into a familial environment that wasn’t more toxic than a Chernobyl cooling tower, and Ransom was loving it. After suggesting to spend that year’s Thanksgiving at your parents’ home, spending the holidays with the L/N family became a frequent occurrence for the two of you.
Though you occasionally wondered why you were four years into a relationship with the man, and still hadn’t met his family, which to your understanding, was rather large, you had better things to concern yourself with. You understood and respected that Ransom’s relationship with his own family wasn't the best, from the little that he shared with you, but occasionally curiosity often got the best of you.
Yet, things seemed to shift after your engagement. In the midst of dress fittings and cake tastings, Ransom had decided that it was finally time for you to meet the rest of the Thrombey clan, and that there was no better time than Harlan’s book release party, which was being celebrated out in California, at the Thrombey Vineyard.
In your years of relationship, you’d become no stranger to luxury, and the finer things in life, but arriving at the Vineyard put you in awe at just how affluent these people were. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re one of the great writers of your time, and your offspring go off to become equally “self-made” successes.
You were a bit tired from the three hour difference between Boston and Sonoma Valley, and as soon as you hopped out of the car at the vineyard, you could only think of getting to your room, out of your baggy travel clothes, and to sleep as soon as possible.
Trailing behind Ransom, you looked around at the vast expanse of crop-filled land around you in astonishment while you walked up the cement path to the mansion, not really noticing the petite woman with curled blonde hair, and an oversized straw hat approaching you.
“Oh gosh, you must be Y/N!” she said gleefully. “I’m Joni. I’ve seen you all over Ranny’s Insta,” she paused and looked you up and down. “Well, you do look a little different there,” she chuckled.
“That’s great, Joni. Maybe you can Tweet about how exhilarating and life changing this experience has been for you to all your little pyramid scheme friends.”
“You’re always so rude, Hugh,” she sneered.
“I forgot about your chronic victimhood. Goodbye, Joan,” he rolled his eyes, and practically tugged you inside the massive building in front of you, before dragging you up the stairs. You were honestly in a little bit of shock at seeing how nasty Ransom got from just a small interaction.
You set your Louis Vuitton Keepal, and aluminum suitcase down on the granite floor of the bedroom, before flopping down, and spreading your limbs out on the massive memory foam bed that sat in the center of the room, “What was that, Ran?” you questioned as he sprawled out next to you.
“The reason why I didn’t want you to meet them. They’re like sharks, looking for anything that even resembles blood in the water,” he threw an arm around you and yawned. “We can talk about this in the morning, though. Right now, I think that both of us need a shower.”
“Speak for yourself, you stink bug.”
“But what if I get lonely in there?”
“Fine,” you huffed, moving his arm off of you, and heading off to the en-suite.
That night, as you stared at the blank wall in a vain attempt to quiet your mind enough to fall asleep, you questioned if coming to meet Ransom’s family was more of a mistake than you initially anticipated.
The next morning felt a bit frantic. You and Ransom woke up a few hours before everyone else, as they’d been in California for a few days now and had adjusted to the time difference, while you two had not. An in-house chef made you two a gourmet buffet of a meal while housekeepers laid out your clothes back in your room, and you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the sudden interferences in your life. Though it was nice to not have to do all of the work, you weren’t sure how you felt about other people doing it for you.
The majority of your day felt similar to that morning. You quickly realized that Ransom’s fortune was just a small portion of the Thrombey estate, and that his family were essentially a bunch of monsters with money. Throughout the day of horse riding, wine tasting, and wine painting workshops, you couldn’t help but notice how they turned their noses up at you, treating you, and the staff working at the vineyard, like some sort of outsider.
Your alienation only became more apparent during Harlan’s celebratory dinner, when insults and sneers were tossed at both you and Ransom for being together.
“Are you trying to get revenge on us, or something?” Richard asked at one point, gesturing to you, and catching you completely off guard,
“Why would you say something like that?” Ransom asked, trying not to let his offence show as his jaw clenched.
“It’s just not like you to want to settle down, especially with someone like… her,” he spoke about you like you weren’t sitting right there.
“No, I agree,” Walt added. “For once in our lives I agree with you,” he laughed aloud, and a few other folks at the table laughed with him. “Can you believe that after all these years, we’re bonding over Ransom’s little girlfriend?”
You weren’t even sure how to react, so you laughed awkwardly along with them, and stared blankly at the vast expanse of grape trees behind the row of Thrombey and their friends. What you would give to sprint out into that, and never come back.
Ransom looked to you in your obvious discomfort, and grabbed your knee, offering it a little reassuring squeeze before he interrupted them.
“You know what? All of you dickheads can eat shit. Y/N is really the only person who matters to me at this point, and you pricks need to respect that. Hell, you need to respect her.”
“Look at little Ranny, getting all soft,” Walt chided.
He ignored the comment and continued on, “And If I don’t start hearing apologies soon, every single one of your wedding invites have a one way ticket to the shredder.”
A silence fell over the table. You were a bit surprised too, since your invites had already gone out, and Harlan was the only Thrombey to receive one.
“...You’re getting married?” Meg asked, breaking the silence. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?”
“Why do you think?” you muttered, pushing around a few things on your plate before standing up, and pushing your chair away. “Excuse me.”
You knew that by leaving, you were only opening yourself up for more criticism, but you genuinely weren’t sure that you’d be able to take one more second of hostility. You pushed your chair back in, before heading off the patio, into the gigantic home, and up to the room that you’d claimed.
You rolled on top of the bed, and screamed into a feather filled pillow. It wasn’t too long after when tears stung your eyes as you came to the conclusion that these monsters were just a few months away from becoming your in-laws.
You thought you’d heard the most of it after the table, yet a prompt knocking at your door proved otherwise. Letting herself in, you turned to face Ransom’s mother herself, and you just knew that you were in for it.
“Listen, you whore,” Linda began in a sharp, yet quiet tone, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with my son. Isolate him from us. Try to ‘change him’ like I know you think you’re doing. But just know that at the end of the day, he’ll always pick us. You’ll always be the second choice, especially when Ransom realizes that you barely have a dime to your name, and his bank account starts to runs dry,” she approached you, and pointed an accusatory finger towards you. “You’ll never be anything but a disgusting, sloppy little gold digger. You may be his toy of the week, but at the end of the day, you’re just an afterthought. I suggest that you get out of his life sooner than later. I’m sure Ransom wouldn’t mind, considering we already have your replacement with one foot in the door,” she gestured over to the window facing the back patio, where Ransom was chatting with a brunette woman that appeared to be quite a few years younger than himself.
“You’re cute, Y/N. Really! It’s cute that you’re thinking right now that he would never leave you, cheat on you with some new, younger, hotter piece of ass. Just know that you don’t know Ransom as well as you really think you do. I can promise you, it’ll be much easier to break off an engagement than it’ll be to get a divorce. Especially with that prenup he’s considering dropping on your desk any day.” she tutted as if she cared. “Well, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I’m glad that these were our first and last words together,” she gave your back a pat before leaving the room, and you looked out the window in shock.
Shaking as you dig into the pocket of your sundress, you sent Ransom a simple ‘help’ message, before setting your phone aside and trying to pack your belongings in as quick of a manner as possible.
When Ransom opened the door, a steady stream of tears and mascara was staining your face, while you urgently threw things into your suitcase.
“Goose, what happened?” he gasped, hurrying over to your kneeling form, and setting a hand on your shoulder.
“Why,” you sniffled. “Why would you let her come up here and say all that shit to me!” you croaked, swatting his hand away from you.
“What?” he watched as you pressed down on the overfilled suitcase and frantically attempted to zip it, to no avail. “Linda said she was gonna come apologize?”
“Telling me that I’ll never be enough for you is just a perfect apology,” you muttered, “I need to go home.”
“God,” he grumbled to himself, “This is exactly why I waited so long for them to meet you. Okay, we can go home then. I’ll buy us tickets right now.”
“This is on you too, Ransom. You didn’t tell them about us, like, at all. You had so much time! You couldn’t give Linda a call and say ‘hey I’ve been seeing this girl’ or even tell Harlan to deliver the message for you?” you hiccuped, but continued. “All of this could’ve been avoided if they had four years to adjust to our relationship. Maybe then they wouldn’t call me a whore and a gold digger every other sentence.”
“I was just trying to protect you from them,” he frowned.
You finally managed to zip up the suitcase, and stood up along with it, “well, you clearly did a great job of that.”
You dusted off the skirt of your dress, and grabbed your phone. “I’ll let you know when our car gets here,” you huffed before walking into the en-suite and closing the door behind you, just to have a moment for yourself (and make yourself look a bit more put together before you leave.)
A tense car ride, and awkward flight later, you marched straight into the guest bedroom, and cocooned yourself under a copious amount of blankets. You felt like you stayed there for years, only getting out of bed to shower and use the restroom, and living off of the crustless sandwiches and jarred spaghetti your fiancé brought to your door.
You slept most of the time, and in the moments you weren’t sleeping, you were dwelling on every vicious word thrown at you at the vineyard. Every day, you listened to Ransom apologize through the door, yet every day, you questioned if going through with the wedding was truly the wisest idea.
A few days into your stay in the guest bedroom, you finally allowed Ransom to stay in the room for more than just dropping off food. He sat down next to you in bed, and cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth against the skin.
“I don’t know how I can make things right for you,” he said softly. “I really did set you up, and I didn’t even mean to. I should’ve made better decisions, but I can’t change four years ago. But I can keep those heinous people away from you. They’ll never have the chance to do, or say anything like that to you again, okay?” his thumb caught on a tear, which he promptly wiped away. “Just… please don’t leave me. The bed feels too empty without you, and it’s just been a few days. I can’t imagine feeling that emptiness for the rest of my life.”
You whimpered and sat up, abruptly embracing the broad man. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let your idiot family make me question the validity of our relationship,” you muttered into his shirt.
“I promise you you’ll never have to worry about them again. They had their opportunity to make things right, and they missed it.”
-----
Things were more or less smooth sailing after that fiasco. You found your perfect venue, decided on your ideal Honeymoon spot, and finished your seating arrangements with time to spare, and the next thing you knew your wedding day was around the corner.
It all seemed to happen so fast, one second you were being walked down the aisle, the next, exchanging vows and rings as aisles of your friends and family members cheered for you, Y/N Drysdale.
Your reception also seemed to slip right through your fingers, your first dance, toasts and cake cutting finding itself over almost as soon as it started. You were grateful that you hired a wedding videographer, as the day was so overwhelming, you weren’t quite sure how much of it you’d remember.
As you drove off to the airport, Ransom set his hand upon your knee one more time. A warm, fuzzy feeling formed in your chest at the all too familiar gesture. You turned your head from the window to your husband, who was grinning back at you, and couldn’t help but to think of how perfect your wedding ended up, though it felt like it sped by quickly. More than anything, you were grateful that you didn’t give up on Ransom despite his interesting family.
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The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John
This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.
The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.
“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.
But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.
You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.
But it didn’t get better.
Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.
Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.
I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.
At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.
Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.
It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.
But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.
Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.
Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.
They do like blowing stuff up.
Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.
What about your responsibility?
I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.
This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.
So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.
The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.
The “absent father” narrative was a lie.
What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.
I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.
You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.
Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.
It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.
The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”
John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).
Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.
It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.
John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.
The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.
“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.
But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.
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In a Week
Part 1/4 - A storm blows into town
(Frankie “catfish” Morales x f!reader)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Summary: a drive down to a friends wedding gets complicated when you fail to head a warning.
Authors notes: Hello! Another fic cause it keeps snowing here and I’m SICK OF IT but wouldn’t mind it if I was stuck with Frankie💕. Anyways hope you enjoy as always comments are welcome but be nice!
TW: mentions of dead sibling (war related), swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (based off of personal experience)
Tagged list: @agingerindenial
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~There was nothing worse than a February wedding, well at least one that took place in the frigid northern temperatures you were currently residing in. So you were eternally grateful that your best friend Stella had chosen to have hers down in sunny south Carolina where she had just accepted her first permanent hospital position. She was marrying her first love, a fact you’d usually cringe at but, they were extremely cute together. Stella had met Genevieve through her brothers Will and Benny, well more specifically Will, who had drunkenly run his head through a window one night. This incident resulted in two things, first a nickname that would stick with Will for the rest of his life and a late night call to Stella asking her to come down to the hospital to pick him up. The boys had put Stella down as their emergency contact in an effort to keep their antics hidden from their parents who they knew would only worry. The nurse patching up her idiot brother was none other than Genevieve who was working through her university's clinical course, and the rest? Well, the rest was history
You’d met Genevieve, as well as Will and Benny, sporadically throughout the 8 years you had roomed with Stella, first during your undergraduate degree at Boston University and then again at Stanford while attending medical school. You’d choses Stella as a roommate without much thought, but after just a few weeks together you were inseparable up until the day that you were assigned to your residency. You were slightly jealous when you found out that she would be spending the next four years in the warm embrace of Carolina (and Gen) while you would be living alone throughout the freezing Chicago winters. The pagne of jealousy didn’t last long though, Chicago med was your first choice after all. So here you were, in the last year of residency and in the middle of a brutal -20 degree winter, preparing to drive the 13 hours down to watch Stella get married. You’d considered flying but you knew how fickle airplanes could be in the winter and the last thing you wanted was a delayed flight because a door had frozen shut. Your friends had tried to convince you that driving down alone was far too dangerous a venture and none were more concerned than Santiago Garcia.
You’d known Santiago your whole life. Him being your brother's best friend resulted in him spending a lot of, some may argue too much, time at your house throughout both your childhoods. Your brother, Parker, was 8 years your senior, an age gap that often resulted in an argument over which one of you was the accident. An argument which usually ended with an agreement that in all likelihood you both were. Every summer from before you were born to the time they left for the military the two boys were a constant presence in your life. Hell, even after he left you’d watched him grow as he passed through your household over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. One thing was for sure, if Parker was there Satiago Garcia wasn't far behind. He was also there the day you received the news that your brother had gone MIA and he was by your side at the funeral, as you watched the commanding officer hand your mother the flag your brother had died for. After the funeral, life continued to move on around you as did everyone else. You always found it funny how quickly you were supposed to recover from loss, apparently a week was long enough to get over it. At least according to the university and your employers who had started calling with empty condolences that quickly led to the real reason they were calling. Always wanting to know when you’d be coming back. After your brother's passing, Santiago took over his role of big brother to you. He read over your med school applications, scared off potential boyfriends and got all the embarrassing video footage of you at your graduations. He was a permanent fixture in your life, one you hoped you’d never lose. Even now as he continued to blow up your phone in an attempt to sway you from driving up alone, you were thankful for him. Over the past 5 days he sent you lengthy lectures in the form of voice messages and a slew of articles detailing the statistics of winter related accidents. His name pops up on your screen as does a picture you’d taken one night after he'd passed out drunk and you’d stuffed cheetos up his nostrils, an act he has yet to forgive you for. You contemplate ignoring the call, but knowing you were about to go radio silent for the next 8 hours you decide to pick it up.
"Hey Santi what’s up?" you ask, as you half heartedly spread cream cheese onto a poorly toasted bagel.
"Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?” Even over the phone you could hear the layers of charm he was currently plastering on.
"What do you want?" you say, tossing the knife into the sink.
"Hey! Who says..." he starts, but you don't let him finish.
"Santi I've known you long enough to know your ‘please I need something’ tone by heart" you laugh.
"Okay well I still value you, but ya I absolutely need a favour" Santiago admits.
"Shoot." you say taking a bite of the bagel.
"I need you to pick up a friend of mine, his flight got cancelled. He's in Chicago at the moment, can you drive him down to the wedding?"
"Ughhh are you kidding me Santi? I’m just about to leave" you say through a half chewed mouthful.
"Please! He’s a great guy, Gen wants him at the wedding, he was in basic with us, so a frequent visitor to the hospital. He's usually pretty quiet so you won’t have to spend that much time making small talk, which I know you hate." He pleaded. For anyone else a last minute change like this would have gotten a laugh, and nothing more, but this was Garcia, and you knew he’d do anything for you, so you’d do this for him.
“Fine” you begrudgingly agree “text me his number, I'm heading out in 40 minutes so he'll have to wait at the airport for a bit" you say, finishing your breakfast.
"You’re a godsend! Seriously, what would I do without you?" He chuckles.
"Nothing good i'm sure, besides I figure I probably owe you like, 1000 favours after you
know....'' the phone goes quiet. Five years later and it still stung like it was yesterday, for you both. He was your family, but he was Santiago’s best friend, you knew the loss was equally as devastating for him. You also knew he'd been having a particularly hard time recently, after what he termed a mission gone wrong a few years back. Every time you'd ask about it he’d shut you down harshly refusing to share any details with you.
"You don’t owe me anything. We're family. Thank you for driving him. I owe you a drink at the wedding!" He responds, back to his chipper self. If it wasn’t for the silence he may just have convinced you that he really was doing fine. You toss the phone on the counter and rub your temples mentally rearranging your entire itinerary for the day. You'd already rifled through the gym bag that was constraining way more clothes than you’d need for the week. Everything you needed was there from bathing suits to your wedding outfit to the special lingerie you’d packed in case you ran into an old flame. If by in case you meant, for when you ran into him. You don’t know how but he’d gotten invited to the wedding reception. Stella hated the guy, so it must have been through Genevieve who likely would have felt bad excluding him, even if he was only a friend of a friend.
You’d met Jonathan in your undergrad and you had been together throughout various points in your life, though never in any official sense. He’d made that evidently clear to you at any opportunity he got. He kept you on a short leash, a retainer if you will. Only coming to you between relationships with women that he deemed worthy enough to be his girlfriends. You knew it was toxic, and your friends constant reminders of how unhealthy it was didn’t fall on deaf ears. The way he would use you and lose you always ended with you being an unstable and emotional wreck, only solidifying his claims of you being crazy. You hated it, the way he made you feel so small, but he held this strange power over you. A power not even you could explain. His redeeming qualities could only be found in the bedroom, he was the best you’d ever had, so you forgave his shitty personality. Always gravitating back towards him, restarting the cycle. You knew what it meant to do the same activity over and over expecting different results, but this was different. At least that's what you told yourself, as you’d traced your hands over the lingeries lace that morning, knowing it was bought for a man who would never appreciate it.
Brushing all thought of him aside for the time being you grab the duffle off the floor and sling it over your shoulder. Walking out into the cold February air you watch as your breath transforms into a small cloud in front. Your chest hurts and nose hairs freeze as you inhale, tossing your bag into the back seat before leaning into the car and starting it up. The engine sputters for a moment before breaking out into a loud rumble, maybe it was a good thing someone else would be in the car with you after all. You jog back inside to your townhouse and grab the cooler where you’d stored the snacks and sandwiches you’d prepared for the road, now realizing it likely wouldn’t be enough to feed two people. Tossing on your winter jacket you lock the door behind you and slide your sunglasses down over your eyes shielding them from the afternoon sun as you make your way into your car.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You pull up to the departure gate still cursing at the idiot who had almost smashed into you while they were going the wrong way down a one way street. You hated driving in the city and you couldn’t wait to get out on the open road, even if it was going to be with a total stranger. You find yourself second guessing your decision to drive down state with someone you’d never met. In all reality, even if Santi was vouching for him, he could be a serial killer, plenty of people had nice things to say about Ted Bundy before he got caught.
You shake off the nervous feeling taking over your body, deciding to put your faith in your friends judgment, at least for now. Worse comes to worse you had a pocket knife stowed within reach. As long as he didn’t complain about any playlists or podcasts and understood your need for complete silence from time to time, you’d get on just fine. Besides it was only a 13 hour drive, and you could put up with anything for 13 hours.
You open up your phone and pull up the conversation you and Santiago had been having, scrolling up until you see the contact he’d sent you which read “ Catfish”. You click on it hoping to get the guys real name as a result but no luck, you should have asked Garcia for more information about this “Catfish” guy. You click on the number opting to call, not wanting to waste time wondering if he’d gotten the text you’d sent. The phone rings a few times before you hear someone pick up.
"Catfish?" you say, less confident in yourself than you had been dialing.
"In the flesh, who's this?" the deep voice responds.
"Your ride, Santiago’s friend" you offer, hoping that this wasn't some elaborate prank.
"Oh shit ya, Pope told me you’d be later than you said. I'm still downstairs" he says.
"Of course he did the little shit" you mutter, causing Catfish to laugh "Im outside now, departures second floor"
“I'll be out in a second" he says, hanging up the phone before you can say anything else.
You plug your phone back into the aux setting it back to the playlist you’d made last night during another bout of insomnia. You're checking your email to see if anything came up from the hospital when a tap at the window causes you to jump. As you look over you see the man who must be “Catfish” gently tapping on the glass. You unlock the door, popping the trunk as you slide out the driver's seat.
“You can put your bags back here. Fuck!" you exclaim when you trunk won’t open, likely having frozen shut again.
"Here" he says dropping his bag on the salted pavement and heaving up on the trunk freeing it from its icy constraints with a relative ease causing him to smile down at you.
"I loosened it" you say defensively, as he tosses his bag in the back still grinning when he
slams the trunk shut.
"Fransico Morales, though most people just call me Frankie" he says as you sit back down in the driver seat rubbing your hands together to warm them and applying some chapstick.
"Y/N, nice to meet you Frankie, seat warmers are here, use as your leisure. There are snacks in the back, but no touching the phone.” you rattle off.
“Aye aye captain” he responds, saluting you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Santiago was right, Frankie was quiet. He offered you little in conversation or any noise at all really. You’d only heard him laugh maybe twice, once while listening to a podcast episode and then again when Britney Spears made her appearance on your soundtrack. "What? She’s America's sweetheart" you say trying to sound offended, but smiling when you notice his lopsided grin. You’d attempted to open up a dialogue with him a few times, but his one worded responses told you all you needed to know, so you stopped forcing it. It wasn’t a hostile environment, it was more of a comfortable silence one that you usually only found in people you had known for years. The silence gave you an opportunity to study the man’s features, glancing away from the road every now and then to slowly piece together his profile. You had pegged him as attractive the second his face had appeared in your passenger window, but it wasn't until now that the details that made him so could be seen; relatively tall, tanned skin, soft curls, deep brown eyes. Glancing over again you notice a concerned look spread across his face.
"What?" you ask, nervous that you’d creeped him out with your excessive, and not so subtle staring.
"Storms coming our way" he says, nodding up at the darkening sky.
"We’re not supposed to get snow for another week, I checked” you reassure.
"Things change" he says
" Sky’s clear, so we don’t stop for another 3 hours" you say, definitively.
" Your funeral, well mine as well I guess" he chuckles, earning him an icy glare from you.
“It's nothing, trust me” you affirm, confident in your ability to read a weather app.
" No one likes a know-it-all" he mutters still grinning.
"Could you help me with something" you ask smiling sweetly
"Sure" he responds, eager to help.
"Pull up the map and show me when I asked for your opinion"
"Eyes on the road” he says, causing your grip to tighten around the wheel.
Well crow wasn’t your favourite food to eat, but here you were eating it. Turns out Frankie was right. A storm was heading your way and it hit hard and fast. You’d managed to make it to a hotel off the freeway just as it came into full effect. What had started as a very pleasant road trip had quickly soured when you refused to apologize for not heading his warning. This paired with the 6 hours you had already driven had left you both irritable so much so that Frankie was now refusing to be any use in respect to figuring out what your next move was going to be.
"Hi" you say to the equally tired looking receptionist. Apparently, every other person travelling through Illinois had also missed the memo about the storm and were now all stuck at the same hotel.
"Hi, so sorry for the wait" she says, forcing a smile in a way that you recognized from your retail days.
"No need to apologize! What are the odds you have any rooms available?" you ask rubbing your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.
"Let me check, we have one... suite left on the... fourth floor” she says after a few moments of typing away into the computer.
"Perfect we’ll take it." you say, tapping your credit card to the machine. You walk back over to Frankie who was sitting with the bags and hand him a room key. He exhales deeply, not looking up from his phone as he takes it from you.
"There was only one room left so we’ll have to share" you say.
"Fine," he says, standing up, grabbing his bag and heading over to the elevator not bothering to wait for you. You watch as the elevator doors open and close behind him. Sure maybe it was your fault that you were stuck in this situation, but that was pretty rude. You push your way into the room after struggling with the key for a moment. Frankie must have been eager to get to sleep, or at least eager to not converse with you as he’d wasted no time in unpacking his bag and getting ready for bed. Your eyes move from the clothes on the floor, to the suit hung up in the closet, to the closed bathroom door. You hear the toilet flush and watch the door open as you drop your bag down onto the living room floor, grabbing the toiletries out of your bag's side pocket. You were far too tired to wrestle down to your pyjamas so you opted to stay in the leggings and sports bra you’d been wearing all day. Yes it was gross, but you couldn't be bothered to change at this point. Your eyes follow Frankie as he exits the bathroom in a green cotton t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. You continue to watch as he plugs his phone in and shifts beneath the covers. Guess you were on the floor then. The couch was far too small, and you really weren't trying to break your neck sleeping on its arm rest.
"Pass me a pillow" you huff, as you grab a glass from the nightstand, turning back around to fill it up with water from the sink.
Why?" he asks, watching you take a sip from the overfilled cup.
"So I can sleep on the floor." you state, as if it was obvious.
“No, I’ll do that, you can have the bed" he says shifting up and pushing the blankets off himself. He hadn’t realized you were so averse to sharing a bed with him, but you had just met so he guessed it was fair enough.
"I’m not the one with the bad back old man" you state, the words sounding a lot harsher than you’d intended, but you were younger and thus more likely to recover.
"Fair point, but you’re not sleeping on the floor. Santi wouldn’t allow it. We can put up a pillow barrier between us if that would make you feel more comfortable" he offers, any hostility you had felt from him earlier now turned to tenderness. In all honesty, you hadn’t realized that sharing the bed was an option.
"I need two to sleep with so no point in making a barrier" you say, begrudgingly placing the glass back down on the nightstand "Shift" you say, fanning your hand.
"No" he says looking you dead in the eye "I got here first" he’s grinning slightly, further indicating he’d gotten over his anger from earlier. You could have just walked around to the other side, but for some unknown reason you don’t. Instead, you swing your leg over him pushing yourself up onto the bed, straddling him for the briefest moment before rolling over to the other side.
"Couldn’t have just walked around?" he chuckles
"Couldn’t have just shifted over?" you parrot back, moving onto your back, closing your eyes and dozing off.
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Destiel Chronicles
Vol. CXXIV
It was a love story from the very beginning.
"I Love--"
(15×09)
Hello my friends! We are here again in Purgatory of Love 2.0 and the ILY that did was, but writers wanted us to think it was hahahahaa. *I hate you Dabb*.
This is a summary of my meta from episode 15x09 with some new addition.
You can find all my metas from this episode in the following links: X, X, X and X.
The Break is Huge
I'm just gonna point how bad things are between Dean and Castiel.
And I want to bring back here one scene I didn't put in the previous volume...
Gifset credit @jellydeans
CASTIEL: No idea. He was very distraught.
DEAN: Yeah, but what exactly did he say?
CASTIEL: "Leave. Get out. I want you dead". We didn't bond.
Castiel uses this opportunity to remind Dean his own hard words to him the day he left. And Dean's face is priceless, that swallow showing he knows exactly what he said to Castiel. But, as always, he can't just use his words to ask for forgiveness.
Things are not okay... are worse than ever.
Coming back to episode 9, at the beginning, things are still bad.
Gifset credit @starlightcastiel
Their fights are getting wilder, Castiel is plenty hones with his own frustration and anger against Dean, and it shows. He's just tired. Dean can't believe Castiel is calling him like that just because Castiel doesn't use that words with him. This was written to show us how bad things are between them.
And they kept fighting and fighting, and Dean trying to avoid Castiel when they arrive to Purgatory...
DEAN: (...)Okay. Let's split up.
CAS: What?
DEAN: You go that way. I'll go this way. We'll meet back at the Rift, alright? We'll cover more ground. We'll better our odds.
CAS: Yeah. We'll also improve our odds of getting lost or killed. Come on.
We can see here again, how tired Castiel is about Dean's childish behavior to not be alone with Castiel and not face him as an adult in an adult conversation. Just avoid the huge elephant. Right?
If we make an analysis about these two situations, we can conclude:
The important thing here, is that Castiel is the one thinking like a strategist, taking war decision, focused on the mission. Like the soldier he is, and Dean was so unfocused, that Cas had to take the command. The first time is when he made Dean decline his plan to rescue Sam and go to Purgatory for that blossom, and the second time was when they just arrived to Purgatory, Dean wanted to go separately, and Cas shoved that idea off. And after that, he said LET'S GO, so, Commander Castiel had given an order!!!! And Dean followed it!
Dean seemed to be uncomfortable by Castiel's side, that's why he proposed him to go separated, and that's why he named Benny. He needed a third one to avoid Castiel.
Another hard conversation is the one before they went into the trap.
CAS: Well, this place will bring that out in you. Guilt. It was my fault the Leviathan got out. It was my fault we were here the first time. I carry that guilt every day.
DEAN: I know you're sorry, Cas. About Bel, about Mom.
CAS: I was talking about Jack. I already apologized to you. You just refused to hear it.
DEAN: Sorry I brought it up. Maybe if you didn't just up and leave us.
CAS: You didn't give me a choice. You couldn't forgive me. And you couldn't move on. You were too angry. I left, but you didn't stop me.
Cas was honest again... The hard quote he threw Dean, after trying to show him he was sorry because of Jack, and he already had said I'm sorry to Dean, but he didn't want to listen, Dean couldn't move on. The hard quote came after Dean played his card saying Cas left, blaming him for leaving... The hard quote from Cas was... "I LEFT, BUT YOU DIDN'T STOP ME." This was like a bomb my friends!!! Dean remained speechless again!!!!
It's as if Cas was saying... 'You wanted me to leave. That's why you didn't stop me.'
Purgatory not only brings guilt, but also, purity of heart. It's about facing your deep and repressed feelings. And that's why it had to be here where Dean had to apologize and recognize his love for the angel... even when he didn't say ILY.
Love is in the Air
The Prayer
Dean lost Castiel again. And he is literally, DESPERATE. He doesn't know what to do, because he has been walking and looking for him, but Castiel is not there.
Finally, Dean succumbs on his knees, and prays to Castiel...
DEAN: Cas? Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.
I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how – [Sniffles] how bad I want to, I just can't stop it. And – And I – I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long – [Sniffles] I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm – I'm so sorry. Man, I hope you can hear me.
Gif credit @starlightcastiel
The prayer exposed Dean's deep misery as a human, Dean talked about this toxic behavior, he know he acts like that, hurting people by his side, throwing his own guilt and fears against the ones he loves. He began the prayer with the last honest quote Cas told him... I SHOULD STOP YOU. When Cas left. Dean should stop him, why? BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND. I will stop in this quote... Dean is talking about him, he is not saying YOU ARE OUR BEST FRIEND, he is saying MY. That's a huge step, and also it is important to understand he is not saying YOU ARE LIKE A BROTHER, he is not putting Castiel in that position, as he did in episode 11x23, using the words BEST FRIEND, is a huge step for Dean.
He recognized he was angry, and he threw his crap to Cas, who had always been there.
Then he took the I'm sorry Castiel had said to him, several times, and he answered OF COURSE I FORGIVE YOU. Because how couldn't he? How couldn't he forgive Castiel? That's a huge quote there too, he is saying, no matter what Cas does or says, Dean will always forgive him, you do that just with people you love, deeply.
Then, he repeats I'm sorry a lot of times, with tears running on his face, that's heartbreaking, and that's too sincere. The huge fact is... He's kneeled down while he is asking for Castiel's forgiveness.
After this scene, we had the big Destiel reunion. They way Castiel says "You made it" to Dean and Dean confused gaze always got me. Because it's talking about the way Dean was able to find Castiel, and that was because they share a profound bond. That manifestation of their profound bond, gave me the idea about how Dean coul rescue Castiel from the Empty.
Gifset credit @agusvedder
When Cas was talking how he escaped and got the blossom, Dean made this face... This is a face of someone about to jump to the pull. Anxiety, heart eyes, and tryin to encourage himself to do it. Do what? A love confession.
Dean was about to confess his love for Castiel here, I'm pretty sure right now, this was a symbolism to show the C*W won't allow this. That's why, before the last episode was aired, in the prologue in which they're showed a lot of mixed scenes and the cast was interviewed, they showed us the prayer again... because they wanted us to see DEAN SAID HE LOVED CASTIEL HERE, HE JUST DIDN'T SAY IT WITH WORD, BUT IN HIS MIND, IN HIS PRAYER. But that was not enough to us and to Dean. Because Dean needed to express his feelings and Castiel needed to hear he loved him.
That's why all the vomits, and gagging and spitting in this season, foreshadowing this moment. And it ends with Dean swallowing his words, again.
He was about to say it...
Here... What was Dean about to say? I'm sorry again??? I don't think so, he had let that very clear in his prayer, and he knows Cas heard him, because he always hears his prayers... Then? What was he about to say?? Adding the previous face we already analyzed... First the jumping into the pull face, going through some heart eyes session, now is time... For the love confession... But.. Cas avoided it...
Castiel had to avoid it because HAPPINESS, something he can't feel, yet.
Perfectly settled to hide the fact that C*W and some writers and producers didn't want Destiel to happen, right?
Cas thought Dean wanted to say I'm sorry again? No. I truly believe Cas knows what was Dean about to say.. because look...
Dean swallowed the I LOVE YOU for Castiel. He swallowed his words. Because THEY SILENCED HIM.
So, everything is solved. Castiel heard Dean's prayer in which writers want us to think he said it in the prayer. In his mind. And Castiel heard him.
But Dean couldn't close his character I Love Journey. And Castiel couldn't hear him say it back.
To Conclude:
The Destiel reunion was a beautiful hug, heart eyes, anxiety, butterflies in their stomachs, but it couldn't give Dean's character what they deserved: to express their feelings through his words.
But even so, They love each other so much, they always find each other.
Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one.
Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper
@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2 @qanelyytha
@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777
If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.
If you wanna red the previous metas from this season, here you have the links:
Vol. CXXI, CXXII, CXXIII.
Buenos Aires August 1st 2021 1:10 PM
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longing | v
wc: 2852
pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader
genre: canon compliant, angst w/ an actual happy ending bc the game’s version wasn’t enough for me, reunions! yay, platonic jumin x reader
description: it’s been two years since you last saw v, but he reappears where you least expect it — at the r.f.a. party. and his feelings haven’t changed. not one bit.
my masterlist.
The party is so full of love and light that you can’t help but go the entire night with the biggest smile on your face.
Initially, you were nervous, and so were the other members. Two years ago was the catastrophe with Rika; it’d taken so long for the group to heal, and you weren’t sure if they were emotionally recovered enough to hold a successful party.
But everyone did their part as diligently as they could, from Jumin using his massive network to publicize the fundraiser, Luciel layering the building and guest information with cybersecurity, and Jaehee’s decorations and catering and other party logistics. Yoosung and Zen’s moral support and guest suggestions gave you plenty of work to do as well. As a result of your combined efforts, the party is positively glistening on this beautiful night, containing a record-breaking number of guests and an atmosphere filled with camaraderie.
You’re so busy that you seem to be in three different places at once, but you don’t mind. This is the happiest you and the members have been in a while. You can feel it, and you love it.
When you finally get the chance to catch your breath, you come across a group of five familiar figures standing together near the stage, and you beam at the sight of them.
“Hey, you guys!” You call, heading towards them.
They turn and smile at the sight of you. “Hey, you,” Zen says warmly, draping a fond arm over your shoulder. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night. How’re things going?”
“Great,” you return with a relieved sigh. “It’s an amazing party. Everyone seems so happy.”
“All thanks to you!” Yoosung chirps. “You invited so many great guests.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luciel so happy,” Jaehee says with an exasperated smile. “Although I can’t help but continue to qustion whether or not longcat’s upbringing was ethical.”
“Of course it was!” Seven assures with a bright grin. “I would never condone animal abuse.”
“Questionable,” Jumin mutters into his champagne.
“Hey, hey, we’re getting off topic,” Yoosung cuts in. “We were giving Y/N our congratulations for putting the party together.”
A chorus of gratitude ensues. You laugh, embarrassed. “Ah, I only did my job.”
“Humble as always,” Zen tsks. “Take more pride for an accomplishment like this, babe.”
“I am proud! But I can’t possibly take all the credit,” you say, smiling. “We couldn’t have done it without each other.”
“That’s right.” Jumin tips his champagne glass your way. “Congratulations, Y/N. And congratulations to all of us as well.”
“Congratulations to all of us,” Zen repeats, holding up his glass. “First and last time I’ll ever quote that pompous ass.”
Six glasses clink merrily. Amiable conversation continues for a few minutes before Yoosung nearly drops his champagne in remembering that he left an entire table undecorated. He and Saeyoung hurry off to handle it. Zen later spots a group of women in the corner practically drooling over him and makes a flamboyant stroll their way, charm in full force. Jumin receives word that his father’s arrived, and Jaehee nearly sprints to meet the chairman at the door — but Jumin lingers behind after she’s gone.
“Y/N.” He turns to you with a thoughtful gaze. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
The expression on his face says it all. You can’t help but sigh. “I think I already know what it is.”
He chuckles. “I apologize. It feels like I’m nagging. I’m just worrying about you, you know that.”
You do know that, and it’s been that way for all of the last two years. Jumin and you formed a close bond after V left, and you’ve leaned on him for everything from advice to support or just a listening ear. You found solace in his wisdom and honesty, and V’s departure would’ve been all the more painful to you if Jumin hadn’t been around.
“Go on, then,” you say.
“Exactly two years ago today, the first party you organized was cancelled because of V’s injury. Anniversaries tend to bring back memories, wanted or not,” Jumin says. “You seem to be doing well tonight, but you also hide your feelings quite well. So, if the truth is different from how it looks…tell me.”
You fall silent, thinking.
Every time you close your eyes, the ghost of V’s face is painted against the inside of your eyelids, his warm smile, kind eyes, loving gaze and all, and there’s no denying the poignant sadness that’s existed within you since he left. You miss him; your worry grows more and more every day not knowing when he’ll come back, if ever.
But, at the same time, you’ve been met with so much support from the RFA that you’ve been able to fall back into routine. You’ve learned to coexist with the emptiness that V left behind. You’ve found it in you to smile again.
You don’t verbalize any of this to Jumin, but you know he already knows.
“It is how it looks,” you say, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m doing well.”
His voice softens. “You’re sure?”
You meet his eyes steadily. “I’m sure.”
“Good.” He straightens, satisfied. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Thank you for checking on me, though.” You reach over to touch his hand. “Thank you for everything, Jumin.”
“On the first day you entered our chatroom, I had an inkling that you had a strong resolve and an even stronger heart. You’ve done nothing but prove me right since.” Jumin gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “So I should be thanking you, Y/N. For your will power and friendship.”
The two of you exchange smiles before Jumin glances at the entrance. “I should go greet my father.”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’ll be okay on your own?” He gives you a nod of farewell. “Right, then. I’ll see you later.”
He strides into the crowd, and you’re alone once again.
You meant what you told Jumin about being okay. Nevertheless, the conversation leaves you in a bit of a weird mood, and you want to get some space from the crowd. You remember that Jaehee mentioned a storage room behind the stage and make your way towards it.
. . . .
Jumin is about to respond to something his father said when an unfamiliar man steps through the door.
The stranger has cream-colored hair, striking mint eyes, a baby pink suit, lanky proportions. He’s unlike anyone Jumin’s ever seen, but familiar in ways he can’t lay a finger on, as if he’s met a different version of him. The stranger looks around nervously, then turns to speak to a second man who follows him in shortly after — and Jumin’s eyes widen.
This second man he knows.
This second man he knows better than anyone.
“Father,” he says, cutting off the older man in the middle of his sentence. “I — there’s something urgent I must tend to.”
Jumin sees Jaehee’s concerned expression from the corner of his eye. “Assistant Kang, introduce my father to the owner of the winery, if you will. I remember my father saying he was interested in purchasing a vineyard.”
“Yes, Mr. Han,” Jaehee says. Jumin knows Jaehee doesn’t like being alone with his father, but desperate measures. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Jumin looks away without giving them a second glance. “Forgive me.”
He can’t take his eyes off the man as he walks towards him. Same unmistakable aqua hair, same tall frame and lean build, same air of elegance.
Something comes undone inside him when he realizes that his best friend is back, something he didn’t realize had been coiled up all this time. He lets out a shuddering breath. His Adam’s apple trembles.
Jumin doesn’t say a word, just clasps a hand to the taller man’s shoulder. Striking, colorful eyes meet his.
“V,” he says. “It’s about damn time.”
V smiles at the sight of him. “Jumin. It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“And you,” Jumin returns, his hand dropping back to his side. “It’s been exactly two years. You always were timely.”
“You’ve been keeping track.”
“I’m not the only one.”
The effect his words have on V is immediate: his face changes, his eyes taking on something Jumin can only describe as longing. He knows only because the same look appeared on your face when he asked you about V.
Two years, Jumin realizes, and neither of your feelings have budged an inch. Two years, and you and V still yearn for each other like it’s still day one.
It took his friend a hell of a lot of pain and loss to get here, but he’s finally found love. Not the kind that’s all-consuming and toxic but radiant and happy, the kind you both deserve. The kind you both have.
“She did all this?” V asks, looking over his shoulder towards the main hall.
Jumin nods, then follows his gaze. It was your idea to ask the art organization you invited to help you rent out a museum for the night, and the result is magnificent. Glimmering. Grandiose. Everything that the members could’ve dreamed the RFA party to become. And it really was all thanks to you.
“I last saw her near the stage,” he says, sparing V the trouble of asking. “She won’t have wandered far.”
A few moments of silence pass. V looks for something to say, anything that could accurately convey everything he’s feeling. He settles with drawing Jumin in for a tight embrace.
That says more than any words could.
They part. V turns and steps into the crowd, a head of mint hair walking through the throng of partygoers.
After his friend has left, Jumin turns to the weirdly familiar younger boy with the odd hair and anxious face.
“And who are you?”
. . . .
The “storage room” turns out to be an intricately decorated space with a dazzling chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It looks looks a ballroom more than a closet, but it’s stacked high with boxes and the air smells of dust when you walk in. Though you’re disappointed the room wasn’t put to use for the party, you’re glad you can use its emptiness to gather your thoughts.
For the thousandth time, you find yourself looking back how things were two years ago — how you and V met. Eleven days was all the two of you had, eleven days of chaos and danger and confusion, but just that short period alone was enough. He fell for your unmoving kindness and care towards him, and his consideration and sincerity rendered you deeply infatuated with him in return.
But you found a love that couldn’t yet take flight, one that consisted of things you left unsaid and emotions you swept under the rug. Neither of you were ready. The situation was far too volatile.
Sometimes, you find yourself wondering if there really was anything there. Maybe the two of you just latched onto each other because the circumstances forced your hands. Maybe it was never love, just dependence.
Then, you remember the way his entire demeanor softened when he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice whenever he said your name, the feelings of his arms around you, secure, safe. You remember the sparks and the unspoken yearning that crackled whenever you were in his proximity. You remember his promise that he’d return to you. That he’d love again. And it’s due to this collection of memories you still have faith in what you once had.
“V,” you say with a sad smile. “I hope you’re somewhere safe and sound. And I hope you’re learning to love yourself little by little, wherever you are.
“Take all the time you need. Just…come back to me when you’re ready, okay?”
Silence.
“I’ll be waiting,” you finish weakly.
The room is now heavy and melancholy. You take a deep breath, trying to get a hold of yourself.
Behind you, there’s the sound of cloth shifting against cloth.
Shit! You nearly jump out of your skin. Did someone come in? The room wasn’t empty? Your face flushes crimson at the idea of one of the members or, worse, one of the party guests overhearing your dramatic soliloquy. Someone walks towards you, slow footsteps gradually getting louder. Zen? Jumin? They both walk with that slow saunter. You squeeze your eyes shut in an embarrassed flinch, your mouth opening to say something —
“You won’t need to anymore,” the stranger says.
You’re ripped from present day and brought back to two years ago. Your mind floods with memories you weren’t prepared to relive, all triggered by that achingly familiar voice.
You turn around, your breath hitched in your throat.
So many little things about him have changed. His hair is a few shades paler than before, the sunlight bleaching his his locks from his previous turquoise to a pale periwinkle; the definition of his jawline has sharpened from two years of travel; he wears a beige overcoat and a collared white shirt, an outfit that’s usually too formal for his liking.
Most notably, however, you notice that his entire aura is different.
You see none of the anguish and burden that used to fill his stare. Instead, there’s something you can only describe as radiance , so pure and warm that it reminds you of the morning sun’s rays spilling through a cracked window. Of holding frozen hands close to a crackling campfire. He’s the same in many ways, but brighter and calmer, more confident in his own skin.
Whatever he left to accomplish, he succeeded.
He comes closer, taking tentative steps until you can smell his familiar cologne; you’ve forgotten tall he is, and you have to lift your chin to maintain eye contact. The toes of his dress shoes touch the tips of your kitten heels.
“You’re back,” you whisper.
He nods. “I am.”
There are so many things you want to say to him, but you can’t think of a single one right now. It’s like his presence is driving you into sensory overload, and you’re only acutely aware of the rate at which your heart hammers against your ribcage, so loudly you swear he’s close enough to hear it. The two of you spend a few moments standing in silence, taking in the sight and sound of each other without a word.
Then, unable to stand it any longer, you move towards him. The last thing V hears is your sigh of relief against the shell of his ear before you wrap your arms around his neck.
The first time you hugged him, he’d stood in shocked silence, his arms staying frozen by his side. At the time, he was unable to accept his affections for you when Rika was still so prominent in his heart and mind.
But he readily holds you now, his arms circling around your waist, pulling you close with so much fervor that it feels more like a promise than a hug.
You stay entwined for as long as you see fit and then pull away, but V doesn’t let you go far; he hooks a slender finger beneath your chin and leans in close, finally lowering his mouth to yours.
It’s a wonderful blur that you barely remember. The pressure of his lips on your own causes your back to dip slightly, but he’s quick to steady you with an hand against the small of your back. He kisses you gently, deeply, as if the ground’s disappeared beneath his feet and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat; his knuckles turn pale where he grips your waist and your jaw, his lips flushed pink where they touch yours. You bring your hands to the sides of his neck, rising up on your tippy toes, thinking to yourself, this is entirely worth the wait.
Your pulse continues to pound a dizzying rhythm long after his lips have left yours. He nuzzles his forehead against your own, his lashes splayed softly against your skin.
“You have completely,” he says, “completely enamored me, Y/N. I’ve fallen for your kindness and purity, your stability and courage — I’ve fallen for you. And I’m so sorry that it took me this long to realize it.
“Even when I was thousands of miles away, you were with me. I heard your voice in the wind. I saw your face when I closed my eyes. I dreamt of you when I fell asleep.” His eyes swim. “I’ve longed for you for as long as I’ve known you, all two years and eleven days.”
You don’t even notice you’re crying until he brushes your tears away with caring hands.
“I love you, my angel. I’ve missed you so much.” His fingers tremble, but his voice remains steady. “And I’m ready to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if only you’ll let me.”
You taste salt on your tongue where his tears have fallen, but you don’t care, tangling a hand in his hair and kissing him until he knows your answer.
Yes, yes, yes.
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. unpleasant reminders (1.5) .
small note : i know what you’re thinking. great titling. seriously, why can’t i title to save my arse? like i’d pay someone to title my stuff for me. i didn’t mention anything about currency, so go wild. again, please heed my warnings before reading. and uh... remind me never to write this much dialogue ever again, yeah?
*you do not understand how Elated i am to finally be able to pin half of this onto you guys*
i’ve said this in the tags before, but please don’t use shock-collars. save them for this au, okay?
(also... i... i do write soft stuff too. um, j-just in case you forgot... it’s okay to ask me for soft things. i’ll gladly oblige. rvmmm21 isn’t just a yandere bucket).
[yandere!omega!irene x alpha!wendy]
tw : choking, bondage, violence, noncon, implied use of shock-collar. (a very, VERY toxic relationship).
...
Bae Joohyun doesn’t need to be an alpha.
She’s already in control.
And Seungwan isn’t the only one who knows things. Joohyun does too.
She knows plenty.
But if there’s one thing she knows best, it’s that alphas who love their omegas unconditionally do not bolt at any given chance.
And if there’s anything Joohyun considers worse than an alpha who is unwilling to accept that they belong under her, it’s an alpha who actively does something about it.
It is rather unfortunate that Joohyun, being an omega, does not possess those useful little pheromones alphas use to either overwhelm or calm. Life would be so much easier if she could just have Seungwan on her knees with a whiff of her scent. But when life presents her a challenge like an unruly alpha... a challenge like Seungwan, Joohyun would rather die than back down. She may have been cautious, hell, she may have even bothered to put on a coat before setting out after her fleeing lover. But it really doesn’t matter, not when Seungwan is as docile and harmless as a baby mouse.
It’s at times like this where Joohyun really doesn’t think her girlfriend deserves her alpha status, or any of those knee-weakening pheromones. It’d be a surprise in itself if Seungwan was aware she even had them, let alone know when and how to use them.
But that isn’t completely her fault. She’s a young pup. Which means she has a lot to learn.
Luckily for her, Joohyun is nothing, if not a well-meaning trainer.
…
Joohyun is standing over her when she opens her eyes.
Even through the blur, it’s creepy. The way she’s just… observing.
She’s calm. Far too calm for Seungwan’s comfort. Not that there’s anything remotely comforting about being gagged and cuffed to the floor. She wants to kick and scream, because she recognises her surroundings far too quickly.
The basement.
Or as Joohyun insists it is, the ��Training Room’.
For a few seconds she does nothing but quietly stare at the metal around her wrists, the taste of old rags seeping into her tongue anything but pleasant. Finally, Joohyun sighs, bending over to run her fingers along the knot behind her head as she breaks the silence. “Gag wasn’t necessary, but… I know you hate it. And I did catch you doing something very naughty, so I think it’s only fitting, don’t you?”
She fiddles around with the fabric before dragging it down and tossing the damp cloth to the side. Seungwan’s jaw aches when she flexes it a couple times. Stray tears roll down from the corners of bloodshot eyes as she opens her mouth to form some sort of apology. But as soon as her lips are parted, four fingers shove their way into her mouth, as good as choking her in an attempt to keep her from making another mistake.
“Don’t you dare.”
The tears are welling up and she can’t help herself.
“You ran. Again.” Joohyun’s tone is somewhere between a drawl and a snarl. The smaller girl impulsively jerks forward when fingers thrust themselves deeper down her throat. She coughs, gags and tries to twist away, but Joohyun just follows her, never leaving more than a millimetre of space between them. “How many times this month, alpha?”
“No, no, no…” Seungwan tries to say, but it just comes out as incoherent mumbling around Joohyun fingers, all subdued and useless. And it doesn’t help that her head is still spinning. Holding onto a simple train of thought is proving to be harder than the force Joohyun must have applied to knock her out and drag her back.
When the omega pulls her fingers out with a skin-crawling laugh, Seungwan scrambles to defend herself, pointless as it is.
“I wasn’t trying any – wasn’t running, I–”
A foot embeds itself into her diaphragm and cuts off whatever the end of that sentence was supposed to be. The hot pain concentrated in her chest slowly blossoms down her ribs, stomach, and her head. The impact of her back shoved further into the cement she’s slumped against sends agonising jolts down her spine, and it’s that instinctive wince that reminds her that she truly is at the mercy of her sweet, sweet omega.
The added pressure behind the heel serves to better restrict Seungwan’s breathing.
“Puppy’s learnt to lie now, has she?” Joohyun sounds lethargic, and it’s nearly twice as scary as that look of pure, animalistic rage Seungwan had seen on her face not two seconds ago. “You’d better tell me where you picked this charming little habit up… or you’re not going to like what happens next.”
She sounds unimpressed and bored and it’s terrifying.
“P-please…” It doesn’t cross Seungwan that she’s speaking out of turn, that she’s not answering her omega’s question, that she’s not thinking straight. It’s impossible. She can’t think straight. Not when she’s in such a compromising position. “I-I promise it won’t happen again, please… I don’t want to run, it – it was a m-mistake! I didn’t mean to–”
“I didn’t mean to plan an escape, I didn’t mean to keep running when I was called, I’m so sorry, Hyun, please don’t hurt me, Hyun.” Joohyun taunts her, mimicking the panic in her alpha’s voice with a sickening light-heartedness. “How many times do you think I’ve heard that, hm?” She pauses to chuckle at her own awful reminiscing. “Pretty much the first day we started training. And how many times has it worked?”
She kneels down again and wraps her hand around her alpha’s throat. She squeezes, smile broadening when Seungwan whimpers and chokes out a weak – “… none.”
Joohyun smirks. “None.”
Tiny black dots speckle Seungwan’s vision as the pressure on her throat increases, turning her laboured breathing into ragged pants. It takes everything she has to force herself still, if only to keep from encouraging the irate omega, who’s growling at her now, sounding more like an alpha than she can ever hope to be.
“Don’t make me wait for it, puppy.”
At this point Seungwan’s reactions are more reflexive than genuine. “I love – I love you!” Her words are clogged in her throat, but she forces them out in short, sharp gasps. “I love you! I’m sorry – sorry I tried to run, please, please don’t… please Hyunnie, you’re hurting me, stop please…”
Joohyun just grins and uses one more final burst of strength before she relents, keeping her alpha pinned up by her shoulders as she splutters and wheezes and struggles to stop the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Don’t think you’re getting off scot-free. Seems like I haven’t trained you well enough, puppy. Outbursts like that are very rude, and they will not go unpunished.” She finally lets her go completely to reach for something Seungwan can’t see. It should soothe her, however the lack of pressure on her neck and the lack of a foot in her ribs does little to do so. Quite the contrary. It fires every nerve in her body up, because if Joohyun’s hands aren’t on her now, there’s no telling where they’ll be next.
When Joohyun finally turns around, it’s the familiar little remote she has clasped in her right hand and device in her left that kicks Seungwan’s legs into gear, weak as they are. It makes her forget. She forgets she’s tethered to a U bolt in the floor, forgets that if her omega can singlehandedly retrieve her mid-run, she stands no chance if they’re in the same room.
She forgets her place.
Still, she springs into action, aiming to lunge past her insane girlfriend and head straight for the door. But she never reaches it. As soon as she’s on her feet, Joohyun is straddling her back, knee digging into the base of her spine and forcing her face into the cold cement floor. Seungwan sobs harder, one hand grappling pathetically out in front of her while the other stays pinned under Joohyun’s knee.
“Bad alpha, bad puppy.” The omega patronises as she fumbles around with the contraption she had intended to put on her lover ever so nicely. Of course, Seungwan had to fuck that up too, didn’t she? The battered alpha goes rigid when she feels deceptively soft lips against the nape of her neck, kissing her so lightly and so comfortingly that she almost mistakes it as forgiveness. But that hope is quickly suffocated when she hears the click of a buckle and a lock, when there’s that tightness around her neck.
She suddenly realises that –
“I’m tired of false promises, puppy. If you can’t tell me the truth, then I think it’s better you can’t tell me anything, don’t you?”
– it’s much more painful to swallow in fear when there are two icy iron prongs burrowing themselves firmly into your throat.
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Call An Uber? | 21
BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut
Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?
What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.
Warnings: Angst with some fluff, cursing
Word Count: 3k
A/N: Re-reading this through is so weird to me. I’m sorry for all the angst, I hope you guys forgive me T_T
< masterpost >
»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««
Bold = English
Books, clothes, equipment… It didn’t matter what was, if it was in my way it was getting shoved in my haste to reach the phone. It was like I could feel the storm of anger awaiting me on the other side of the hotel door, but priorities did come first. Soojin could go fuck herself for all I cared at the moment.
My thumb hovered over the tiny green telephone symbol for longer than necessary. Was it urgent enough to put above my job at the moment? I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother had just pocket called me or drank a little too much. It was too strange to have any positive implications. To be frank, I was probably trying too hard to convince myself otherwise because the opportunity to stall was too tempting to ignore.
Anyone who knew me well would know just how much I loved to procrastinate problem solving. Long lasting ones weren’t an exception in any case.
“(Y/n), you finally showed up.”
What? Fuck, I must have tapped it while I was lost in my brain.
“Mother,” I responded through gritted teeth.
Trepidation weighed my tone down to the floor.
Then there was a silence that made me feel as unsure as ever. If you asked me to explain the feelings caused by the echoingly empty sound, I couldn’t tell you. It was as if she was carefully handpicking her next words. Tiptoeing so cautiously around her thoughts, just in case I didn’t like what she had to say and barred myself away once more.
She’s too foolish to understand that I can see through her, even if she’s not physically here.
I fiercely fought down the urge to grind my teeth in anger and chose to wait patiently instead. If she had to take the time to think about what she was saying, then she obviously wanted to be in my favour somehow. I could not for the life of me understand how she’d possibly thought that was a scenario that existed, but apparently it did.
“Honey … how have you been these days?”
A surge of bile bubbled up through my windpipe. This problem was becoming borderline toxic.
“You better get to the point before I hang up,” I seethed. The plan was to keep my tone calm and neutral but there was no way the hurt wasn’t going to seep through the cracks. Hearing how fake and desperate she’d become just single-handedly destroyed what little snippet of respect I had left, buried deeply somewhere there in my heart.
She scoffed almost soundlessly before heeding the request.
“Fine, if it’s really going to be this way. I need money. Your dumbass father has gone and crashed the car again, but this time he’s pretty messed up. We can’t afford all these bills and I really need some booze if I’m gonna stay sane in this shithole. You’re the only child still attached to us so you’re going to be the one to get your dunce of a dad out of debt.”
I felt my chest tighten the longer she spoke, albeit rather roughly, but the words were still heavy with wrenching information. I didn’t know exactly how to feel, but I knew this whole situation would be a hell of a lot easier without the tugging family ties making me second guess everything.
“Hold on, how bad is the accident?” I growled, trying to ignore the rest of her sentence about alcohol and shitholes. The thought of my own father being severely injured made my heart skip a beat in sudden fear. It wasn’t too bad, was it?
“Pretty damn bad, I guess. He was in the ER, and I’m sure the doctor said something about rehab? Acute rehab? Ugh, can’t remember.”
This is terrible, and she can barely bring herself to care!
Tears unwillingly pricked at the corners of my eyes and I furiously blinked them away.
“Is he on life support or something?”
“Not anymore. Dunno why he’s still being a dickhead and drink driving everywhere. Something was bound to happen eventually, and if it was up to me they should have slapped a band aid on it and sent him on his way. These fancy doctors just want to leech money from us.”
“You realise that money is what kept him alive, right?” I murmured in disbelief. There was a raging war of conflict taking place in my mind, and I couldn’t even fathom how she was being so nonchalant about all of it. Her own husband had almost died, and she was blaming the hospital for their crippling poverty.
“(Y/n), darling…”
There it was again, that wickedly sweetened voice that could only be a feeble attempt at manipulation at this point.
“I’m only going to think about it for the sake of life and death, I literally can’t believe how fucking disgusting you are. Don’t consider me attached to you ever again,” I choked out in a haze of fury. I could feel every shred of dignity and hope I had left for my family burn away into cloudy ash before me.
“I should have known better.”
And with that I hung up. The silence was too deafening, too close and invasive to be even remotely comfortable. I didn’t even know why the disappointment and vindication was hitting so hard and fast either, because in the back of my worrisome mind I always knew that nothing good could come from such a reach.
Wishful thinking. It seemed to be something I lived by too closely.
My eyes blurred with a watery film as I brought the phone screen upwards again. Soojin was waiting for me like a brewing storm outside, but I knew that I just couldn’t stitch myself back together for a meeting mere minutes after feeling my tendrils of a childhood slip away from me.
‘Can you come in here for a minute or two? It’s okay if you and Yoongi left already.’
I sent the text to Namjoon after a second of hesitation. I knew normally I would’ve dealt with the emotion and carefully hidden it away to move on with my working life. I wouldn’t have allowed anyone see past the drawn curtains into the darkness behind, but things had changed drastically over the past few months.
Since I had pulled that stupid stunt and distanced myself from everyone I cared about, things had changed. Yoongi’s words rang clearly through my head again and again like a broken record.
“You could’ve talked to us, we wouldn’t just ignore you if it was about something serious. Jesus, especially if you were feeling depressed. (Y/n), please…”
Then Taehyung’s.
“This is why you can’t hide your feelings. At least talk to one person, a close friend or something, because I know you haven’t…”
“I’m here.”
I sniffled in surprise as the hotel door clicked shut suddenly. Namjoon was by my side in less than a moment, breaths coming out in quiet pants even though he seemed to be trying his best at controlling the strained puffs of air.
“Oh God, you really ran back here for me?” I sighed, trying to tip my head back to get rid of the annoying things called tears.
“I was only down the hall, trust me,” Namjoon assured softly, taking notice of my sorry state of emotions and instantly switching his gaze to one full of concern. I watched as his perceptive eyes trailed down the length of my arm to the phone clasped into my shaking palms.
“(Y/n) …”
I almost jumped in my skin when he moved to slowly unclasp my fingers from around the warm device. The man took the rectangular object and slid it carefully onto the surface of the bedside table before taking a seat beside me on the bed. His honeyed voice was nothing but soothing to the ears.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Then I spilled it all, like a broken dam rushing to meet what physics required of it. His eyes hardened as I spoke about my mother and her overall attitude, but softened when I couldn’t help voicing my newfound conflictions. I wasn’t surprised to find myself cradled into his broad chest by the end of it.
“A-and Taehyung had just pretty much convinced me to try reaching out to them last night. Now I’m forced into making a decision I don’t even want to find myself making. It’s just that…if he dies I will never forgive myself, and I really, really fucking hate that.”
I was almost ready to openly cry into the flimsy polyester shirt he wore, but once again I found myself holding back in fear of losing face. I never knew why I just couldn’t let it all go for once in my life. Maybe it was something too utterly routine after years and years of practice.
“Nobody can blame you for feeling that way about your own father, (Y/n). It’s like a natural instinct to try and protect those closest to you,” Namjoon murmured lowly. I let my eyes droop shut as I tuned into the rumblings coming from his chest.
“That’s the thing. I’m not close to them at all.”
A hollow sigh was next. His body relaxed further as he grew used to the feeling of my tears sinking through his exercise shirt, because even though he was the one to bring me into the reassuring hold, he still wasn’t accustomed to such a close proximity with someone other than his bandmates. I felt so indebted to him in every way.
“Even so, it’s family. You feel this connection that no-one else can, and even if you don’t like who they are as people, there will always be a love there that you might think is just too unexplainable. Now that I think about it, your nature to care about others probably made you even more susceptible.”
I couldn’t help but widen my eyes. He was always able to just come out and spin my thoughts into the words I couldn’t come up with. He just seemed to understand the very world we lived in, along with all of its nasty people and ideologies, in a way I struggled to. I was shocked at how he was able to take any point of view, turn it around to see the other side of it, and grasp the concept just as easily. An optimistic part of it, nonetheless.
“Namjoon, why are you just so amazing?” I chuckled after a minute of contemplative silence. He’d fidgeted slightly when I hadn’t responded, wondering if he’d done something wrong or made things worse. He was a little goofy sometimes, but nobody could deny how brilliant he truly was as a person.
“I’m not really,” He huffed bashfully, and I was shocked again when I felt one of his large hands come up to stroke my hair in comfort. It was so weirdly easy to be comforted by him after such a stressful morning.
“It’s just easy to see why you’re feeling the way you are. Take my advice and think hard about what you want to do about it.”
I felt the pad of a finger wipe away the last of my salty tears from my skin. The action was so sweet I couldn’t help but lift my head to meet his heartwarming gaze. The sight of his slight smile and tiny dented dimples made my heart almost stutter to a halt.
“In the end, they may only be using you and may only continue to turn a blind eye to the wonderful daughter they have, but at least you know you did what you believed was right. Use the love they may not feel to love yourself and the person you are.”
“Namjoon, stop before I…”
Taehyung I wish you could look, because this is me opening up. It’s ugly isn’t it?
More tears suddenly flowed and for once I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Namjoon’s face fell as I sobbed loudly into his chest, the liquid remorse tumbling out unstoppably. I couldn’t see his saddened expression of relief, but I knew I wasn’t alone in feeling the pent up tension flow away along with the waterworks. His muffled ‘shh, it’s gonna be fine’ and gentle strokes of encouragement to my head began gradually replacing the emotions with joyous ones.
I felt so much appreciation and love for the man it almost hurt.
“I haven’t cried in front of anyone since primary school, up until this morning in the hallway and now here,” I whimpered after a few minutes, almost letting myself doze off to the feeling of his presence enveloping me. How long had it even been?
“I’m just glad you even told me as much as you did. Taehyung might have mentioned that a few of us could see your pain, even if you didn’t know it was there yourself,” Namjoon said after clearing his throat slightly. I felt bad that I’d forced him into staying with me through the bout of misery, but his words violently struck more than one chord.
Yeah, and he also mentioned something else.
I was suddenly reminded of Taehyung’s big revelation from the night prior. The feelings they all had for me. I forced myself to keep my eyes trained forward, but there was no way Namjoon hadn’t noticed the way my body tensed up all of a sudden.
I can’t ask him about it now, or confirm it. They’re in the middle of a busy schedule and I also have stuff to deal with. I’m going to have to wait until we’re back in Korea to confront them about it.
I relaxed again and finally removed myself from Namjoon. He looked up at my standing figure with slight confusion, not really being sure of my stability or composure just yet. I could only sigh to let us both know that I was feeling a hell of a lot better than before.
I took one amused moment to glance over his slightly ruffled black tresses, probably having little to no effort put into the style for a day such as this one. Soft hours were now open in the messy hotel room.
“Thank you so much, I really needed … all of that,” I smiled crookedly, indicating that I was ready to move on with my life and away from the dilemma of my family for now. Namjoon got to his feet quickly after almost knocking over the vase of flowers on the bedside table. He grunted in surprise while I laughed and grabbed for his flailing hand to help keep him steady.
“It’s fine, you know it always is. You’ve been through more shit this morning than most go through in a week or months. I’d say you deserve a shoulder to cry on whenever you need one,” he spoke seriously and nodded, averting his widened eyes down to where I still held his hand within my own. These guys really did love a lot of hand attention, I did come to find after all this time.
“You’re sent from the heavens Joonie,” I chuckled airily, feeling so many feelings but nowhere near as crushingly as I had earlier.
“You confused me with you, angel,” He replied abruptly, moving with a confidence I rarely saw to shift a stray lock of hair away from my face. His smile was so warm and his line incredibly cheesy, but I felt something within me snap. The love was too intense for me to overlook.
I stepped forward and reached up to cradle his smiling cheeks into my palms. There was a need to rise onto my tiptoes before my lips finally grazed his in a very restricted but needy kiss. I fought back a smile when I felt his muscles slacken in absolute shock, but then he was returning everything wholeheartedly. His large hands pulled me closer by the waist and his lips started moving against mine just as surely, as if it were something that had been waiting to happen for too long.
I almost felt myself get lost in the sensation, but something nagged at me the further I slipped away into the moment.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I gasped, pulling away reluctantly and squeezing my eyes shut in burning shame. I was embarrassed of myself for not upholding the pact I’d created about leaving the whole feelings thing until later on, plus I had basically thrown myself at him without giving anything resembling a warning.
“Why are you sorry? I think you just made me the happiest man on Earth,” Namjoon protested in shock, eyes wide and hands spread open to anticipate any sudden movements I made to escape. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and I found it undeniably gorgeous to contrast his complexion.
“I promised to leave it, but I just couldn’t control myself. Can we finish this-”
I made a little circular motion with one finger.
“-once we get back to Korea? I just have to speak to everyone.”
Namjoon nodded and agreed tentatively. I could tell by the way his brows furrowed slightly that he’d probably figured out the reasoning behind my request, but he would have to wait to question Taehyung at another time. I inwardly thanked him for his overarching awareness.
“If you see Tae, tell him I’m alright and that he needs to stop blaming himself. I know he’s probably taking the whole Soojin thing badly. I’ll fix it all,” I continued in a more level tone of voice, bringing back the sense of professionalism as I began thinking of how I was going to go about this predicament.
“Of course. Good luck out there,” He gave my shoulder an awkward pat before moving towards the door. I sighed regretfully as the leader left without another word, the strange tension lingering but somehow not becoming an overpowering force.
It’s your own fault. You went and kissed him, so now you’ve gone and confused everyone and yourself.
I didn’t know what lay in store for me now, as the news would surely spread like an untamed wildfire; stemming from Tae and Namjoon undoubtedly. What a bloody dumb thing to do, considering I’d just been accused of fucking around with one of them already.
My phone vibrated against the smooth surface of the bedside table loudly. Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, being the devil incarnate herself.
‘We’re waiting in the office area downstairs, I suggest you make it snappy or I’ll get on with this on my own.’
Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.
tagged: @joyful-jimin, @l4life, @gee-nee, @m0chilattae, @rossemayme, @doilooklikeinoe, @jeon-joker, @topthis808, @justyouraveragerando, @booklover240, @midnight1199, @k-popin-hoe, @xctvme
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Crazy Crazy Crazy
Some days I just want to scream! Between school, work, and internship, I feel like I’m working three full time jobs. And the pressure is on. This week I started midterms and work (gosh). I’m finished with midterms for Clinical and Macro plus one essay for Human Behavior. Now, I have two papers due next Wednesday and Thursday. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately because of midterms and work. Along with midterms, I still have to complete assignments for Field Education which I feel like I’m behind. I’ve done four assignments out of a long list of other things that need to get done before the end of the semester. And I still have to focus and complete tasks required of me from Amirah. It was brought up yesterday in class that Spring semester might be online again. If so, can students get a discount on our tuition for next semester.
Okay, Restaurant Depot didn’t workout. I went for an interview, killed it, got hired, and then three or four weeks later I receive an email saying I’m no longer an employee. How did I lose a job that I didn’t even start yet? All things happen for a reason. God has a better plan for me. Back to the drawing board! Blessed, I got an interview with Chipotle. Now this opportunity actually worked-out. I’m an official employee. I work Friday-Sunday on the evening shift part time. I commend all those working in food service; it isn’t as easy as you would think. Every shift so far, I’m coming home with my feet and back hurting. I’m overall exhausted because of the long days. Mondays and Thursdays are the only days I really have to catch up on sleep, but that doesn’t always happen because of school work. I’m not going to complain because I need the money. Also, my coworkers aren’t bad people, they are friendly. And God answered my prayer because I’m working with people around my age and I wanted a working environment like that. I never asked what my pay will be so I have to wait for my first paycheck in order to readjust my budget. I can’t forget that Chipotle is still close to my house, basically down the street, I get free food on every shift, and a fifty percent employee discount.
Amirah is going great! The commute isn’t too bad; it’s between forty to an hour depending on the traffic. Good thing Kandi is good on gas because I have to fill her up every Tuesday. I get my gas in the area of my field placement because it’s cheaper than in town and other places around. Amirah went over their goal for HOPE 2020 and are able to open their second safe home in CT. They are in the process of hiring people for positions in MA and CT. Because of COVID, we only have three participants residing in the home, and spots are still limited for new participants. However, we might receive more because last Friday Heather and Sarah did some interviews for new participants and employees. In development, the organization plans to open a community resource center in January. I do feel like I’m not doing enough, but that what’s happens when I compare myself to others (I really need to stop doing that). At the end of the day, I am Me, and I can only be Me. My approach to situations will always be different from someone else’s approach.
This move has been a rough adjustment like the fortune teller told me. Last month, I locked my keys in the car which lead to a massive mental breakdown in the shopping plaza parking lot. All the new changes and emotions I’ve ignored hit me hard that day. It was a headache, but everything got resolved. God has me covered! Without him I don’t know where I’ll be at. I’m always praying and listening to what he’s telling me (I try my best anyway). I’m still reading my bible & devotions, I found new pastors that I relate to and seek ministry, and I always take the time to tell the Lord that I’m forever grateful for everything he keeps doing for me each and every day.
I need to do a better job of taking care of myself mentally. I keep placing this unnecessary stress on myself which makes life more complicated than it needs to be. I’ve been using my individual supervision at my internship as little therapy sessions which has been helpful. It’s nice just to hear myself out-loud without feeling crazy. I might need to change my self care practices just a bit especially with the weather changing (the cold in Boston is no joke). What’s consistent is journaling and listening to music. I haven’t written much poetry lately, however, I’m going to try completing the book Patricia gifted me. It’s a poetry activity book. I’ve done two topics, the next one is First Love (that’s going to be interesting). When things do get chaotic, I have people in my life that I can lean on. I need to work on allowing these individuals to be there for me, and ask for help when I know I need help. Suffering/struggling in silence isn’t healthy. Next Tuesday, I begin group therapy for my bulimia & body image.
I told myself last year that If I get into another relationship it was going to be a serious committed relationship that is going to lead to a future. I guess what...I’m in a relationship. And it’s with a former ex boyfriend. I don’t if that term really applies he’s the only boyfriend & ex I ever had. If I were to tell the entire story in-depth it would sound so complicated. Honestly, I thought I was going to meet someone while in grad school or meet someone (or people) in Boston. Me and Erik never really let each other go I guess. Some how we always end up reconnecting in some type of way. I struggled for a long time to understand if this was a sign that we should be together or this was a start to a toxic cycle. Either way, I approached the situation with caution. It’s been three years. A lot of things have happened during that time. We are different people. We both agreed that at the beginning neither of us was ready to be in a relationship, but we both tried in our broken states. It’ just a lot for me especially after finding closure and forgiveness and he reappears into my life (double whammy). No matter what, through the disappointment and dishonesty, I never stopped caring about him. I was always there supporting him through everything. Honestly, it wasn’t an easy decision, but I gave him another chance. I do see the changes he has made over the three years. Praying this is a blessing.
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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.
fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.
tagged by: @zhrets aka THE stinky boy, Thank 4 teh Tag-desu uwu *glomps*
tagging: @foxcharmed / @heroeth / @garuvusu (do it twice i dare you gabby) / @icarise
My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated
Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / KINDA
Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO
Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO
Are they underrated? YES / NO
Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.
Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO
Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.
How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.
How strictly do you follow canon? / I follow canon as much as I can, but it’s important for me to note that Elesis has many versions of herself depending on exactly which time I write her. For the most part, for panfandom interactions, I go for a more general approach incorporating canon into her story (as she did travel solo across dimensions for a hyper-extended period of time), but making it so that it wouldn’t have a tremendous effect on the actual canon of the story (by making her forget every world where she’d traveled, which gives opportunity for plots to revolve around that). I try to follow canon but, the game was a 2008 KMMORPG that was a patchwork mess and character identity is left highly to fandom and individual interpretation. My Elesis is nearly an original character at this point. I’ve thought about what made sense for her for a long time. She is a childhood character that had a significant impact on why I decided to rp, the kind of person I am today, and liking her and maining her in the original game inspire a lot of my love for similar characters.
SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. / Elesis Sieghart provides a lot of introspection. She is interesting because she is multifaceted. She is a leader---a Savior, going by the way canon sees her. But she’s not. Several times in canon, namely in her background and in an implied alternate dimension, she leans towards revenge over justice. Her goal has been, and always has been, to enact revenge on the villainess who took her father away from her. Her reaction to seeing her father die in front of her is anger, and then a desire for vengeance. In the alternate universe mentioned, she is so overtaken with rage that she transforms into a shell of herself consisting of her determination and her desire to kill----something that isn’t common among characters like her. Likewise, all throughout canon, she forced her way into a leadership position that, gradually, she begins to doubt and resent. She was brash, had an ugly personality, trampled over others’ opinions and yet---she cares about them so much. She’s a leader because she treats everyone she meets as equals, but she isn’t a leader-type because she’d rather seek anger in her friends’ name rather than protecting them in the present. Elesis always, always, looks towards the past for her actions rather than the present and she is fundamentally flawed as a protagonist. Not to mention, she is selfish and she takes her enjoyment of battle to extremes. Rather than being a forgiving and kind protagonist, she is ruthless and nearly totalitarian in her desire to fight over doing the right thing. She would rather die than retreat for the safety of her friends. She is angry, but it’s kept inside. She is lustful for violence, but she has to keep up the image of a good leader. She’s constantly on a breaking point one way or another, and I love that about her and I hope my interactions can spark some of that curiosity to go beyond what she is on the outside.
She’s a character that has a lot of potential for relationships. She has so many experiences that have changed her over and over again that she cherishes and is referred back to often. She’s a lot of contradictions in one woman, and to weasel your way into that takes a lot of effort and it’s rewarding. That’s how I want to portray her.
Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). Elesis isn’t digestible. She’s kind of basic looking and her words are far and few in between. I think she’s a very difficult character to love----she’s an easy character to gloss over because she’s not bombastic like a lot of others are. Speaking not so much from a fandom perspective (because she is very loved in the fandom, namely GC’s Korean fandom, where she’s one of the most popular characters) but from the perspective of roleplaying and seeing the kinds of characters people tend to prefer----Elesis is just not it. She’s not that consumable, and threading with her (and me in general) takes a ton of time and back and forth before she gives way to cuter threads or in-depth things. She’s not really defined by anything outright. It can easily be said that she isn’t anything. Her character doesn’t seem consistent----she’s a lot of things at once, rather than being “a good girl” or “an evil woman” or “a villain” or “sweet and candy-like” or “a sultry femme fatale”----she’s none of the easily definable. She’s a lot of everything, but she isn’t any one of those descriptions. She’s a protagonist but she doesn’t act like one. She’s a warrior but she longs for something more normal, something more regular. She’s a knight but she has never been knighted. She’s not easy to take in and it can seem very pretentious, to make one character absolutely nothing. It’s off-putting and it turns people off. Also, I don’t tend to talk about her until prompted to, nor do I talk on the dash a lot about her, nor do I have many followers in the first place. All of those things make her a character that people might just not want to write with, and that’s 100% okay.
What inspired you to rp your muse? / She’s important to me. After leaving tumblr for 2-ish years following a lack of interest and seeing how toxic the dashboard was and how toxic the rpc twitter community was, I left and I didn’t look back until now. In the end, though, I want to write. Writing makes me happy. rping Elesis makes me insanely happy. I never brought her to tumblr because I didn’t want her to be ruined for me, and I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m confident enough in my own identity and my love for this character that I’ve been thinking of in silence for years to put it out in public and start writing with old friends again.
What keeps your inspiration going? / I love one (1) beautiful titty redhead sword woman. 8+ years in my lil’ brain still going strong 3:
Some more personal questions for the mun.
Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.
Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO
Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO (though I want to)
Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES (all of my replies tend to be drabbles 3:>) / NO
Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO
Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO
Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO
Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO
Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? / Truthfully---no. Not about Elesis. About any other character, or rather---about every other character besides Elesis, I will accept criticism. But I’ve thought about Elesis for way too long and for way too many years of my life, changing her as I go, so much so that it’ll feel too personal to me to accept criticism. But if it were any other character, I’d readily accept it.
Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? / Absolutely please please please please---it’s so hard to talk to people one-on-one about her as is, as it is for everyone about their own muses. I love questions. I love answering them.
If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? / I’d be curious, truthfully. But it’s not bad. Anyone can disagree and if that’s the case, but ultimately, my headcanons for Elesis are my own and that’s not going to change even if someone else told me it was “wrong” or “bad”.
If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? / I don’t really care. I’ve thought about this stupid meathead woman for far to long to feel offended at someone else’s disagreement of how I write her. Plus, Elesis Sieghart, as well as every single character of the Grand Chase, can have many, many interpretations due to how vague and up in the air their canon information is. It’s just how it is...
If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? / The only situation where I’d feel upset would be if it were a close friend telling me this after a while of talking about her---and it’s happened before. But overall, it made me sad for a minute and then it was “whatever”. They love her now, and things are good and right in the world. Someone else’s dislike of Elesis doesn’t really effect me outside of close friendships.
Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? / Absolutely! If something is off, please tell me or correct it in the reply <3
Do you think you are easy going as a mun? / I’d hope so. I don’t view rp as my life or as a main hobby, so I don’t tend to be here often and I write as I feel like it. As a mun I kind of just write here as I please because I know the people who are interested will continue to be interested and those who aren’t, I’ll know with time. In terms of friendships and rp, I do like to be talked to if I share my discord because I don’t share it often. I want to be able to develop and write and do all of those fun things I never got to do in the past due to the fact that when I used to rp as a main hobby, I was a minor---shipping back then was difficult for me, as a minor. 3: But now that I’m a lot older and, well, Legal, I can do a lot more things and explore more dynamics that I felt like I just wasn’t mature enough to do in the past. I guess, in that case, I’m a bit more higher maintenance. I hope I come off as easygoing, but I do get very intense about writing, I like it so much.
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New Beginnings~Chapter 4
TVD Season 6 AU: After a few too many startling revelations Bonnie is fed up and decides to leave. Enter the little town of Havencrest, a quiet place, perfect for settling down away from everything. Or so it's thought; Bonnie left the constant chaos that was Mystic Falls only to get mixed up in something much darker.
Whoo another update! Don’t have much to say other than happy belated BonKai day family! Ngl I was super engrossed in other stuff and I had to work that day so yeah. Hopefully this makes up for that somewhat. Without further ado please enjoy the chapter. Italics=Thoughts/flashbacks. TW for mentions of animal abuse and violence
@kingcobrakai1972, @fuckitimfangirling, @bonkaishippersclub, @needlexheart, @madeunmexico, @bonkai-reign, @bonkai-diaries, @a-bonkai-fantasy225, @albion19, @leianaberrie, @scorpio-karma, @mysticfalls-originals, @nys30, @jemicloisfan, @1972trash, @bonwhynot, @bonkairedemption if I forgot to tag anyone please let me know
Though some people were still staring at Austin's retreating back, a handful were giving her scornful glances. Bonnie was starting to become agitated. She sat down on a bench in the park and began tapping her foot impatiently. Rusty scratches against her leg for attention, she picks him up and puts him in her lap. "I can say I have an alibi, which I really do, but magic was more than likely involved in this."
Noelle was tapping her chin, pacing back and forth thinking of solutions. "True, but we need undeniable proof."
Sian's entire being radiated sadness. "She doesn't deserve this. She's innocent."
Caleb's shoulders are tense, watching the townspeople warily. "We know that but unfortunately the combination of Bonnie being a witch and her familiar being him is going to have the town on edge."
Bonnie grew apprehensive. "What's wrong with Rusty?"
There was a beat of silence until Sian spoke up. "A lot of the townsfolk believes he's a curse."
Bonnie's eyes narrowed, leaning forward head slightly tilted.
Sian clenched the knapsack closer to herself. "He wasn't always a chow chow puppy, some months back he was a pitbull. A-uh-a guy who was into dog fighting wanted to use him but Rusty disobeyed one too many times and he...killed him."
Noelle closed her eyes, lips pursed in anger while Caleb just watched for Bonnie's reaction. The young woman grasped Rusty to her; Harsh breaths coming out of her nostrils. Rusty whined attempting to twist his little body around to reach her face.
"That wasn't the only time...I think he died twice before that too. He never really made it to adulthood." Sian buried her face into her bag murmuring. "Like owner, like dog."
Caleb put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should head on home."
"I'm fine Caleb." Came her curt reply.
Noelle finally opened her eyes. "No Caleb's right." She turned to him. "Take her out of here, there's too many emotions swirling around."
"But Noelle!"
"I said no."
Sian just cast sorrowful eyes at Bonnie and then buried her head back into her bag so only her copper hair was showing.
"I'll take her with me to the scene, see if we can find something."
"Okay. Keep us posted."
"Will do. Be safe." With one last look at Bonnie he grabbed Sian and ran off in the direction of a small side street.
After watching them leave Noelle turned to Bonnie. "Let's go get your hair done."
"You can't be serious." Even Rusty's head tilted in confusion at Noelle's ridiculousness.
"As serious as a heart attack." She peered at Bonnie closely. "Have you ever had cornrows before."
"No."
"Individuals? Locs? Weave of any kind?"
"No, no, and no."
"Yeah that won't do. Get up." Rusty barked twice which Bonnie assumed it meant hell no.
"Look Noelle I'm a suspect in a murder I can't just be prancing around getting my hair done."
"Yes you can! This will get your mind off of things and a chance to try something new with yourself!"
"Someone you knew personally just died. How can you be so blase about this?"
"Because, one, changes for the better start small. Or in your case big and then small. You already got out of a toxic environment." She sat down beside Bonnie. "And two, she was already dying. She had maybe another week or two tops."
Realization dawned on Bonnie. "You're giving me another alibi in case something happens again."
She made finger guns. "Now you got it."
"Did anyone ever tell you you're annoyingly persistent."
"So I've been told." She stood up and faced Bonnie holding her hand out. "Let's go."
"I'll go but I'm not taking your hand."
"Sweet! Come on my car is parked on the other end of the park."
"Cool, but we have to stop by the pet store first. I need dog food for Rusty."
"Fine by me."
-----
Elias takes a swing at Kai but he's distraught and his eyes are blinded with tears so Kai has no problem avoiding him. When he swings again Kai grabs his arm twisting it behind his back then snapping it at the elbow. At this point he's past caring if anyone hears him as he drags Elias kicking and screaming to the pool.
Using his bulk, Elias manages to break free of Kai's hold only to be kneed in the stomach and elbowed in the face. Seeing as that wasn't taking him out Kai gripped Elias's hair and slammed his face into the diving board. With his knee in his back he then heaved his brother's head into the pool.
"Come on Eli, you're a good swimmer, let's see how long you can hold your breath under water. Last I heard it was for a solid seven minutes! Let's try for eight!"
Elias is desperate now and his thrashing around is getting worse, Kai presses his knee down harder and uses his other to break his brother's good arm. Suddenly Kai feels it, the approaching footsteps followed by shapely brown legs. When he looks up he's staring directly into a pair of moss green eyes. No anger, fear or hesitation; Just disgust and disappointment. He's used to Jo giving him that look over time but with her it's different. It's like his heart is being squeezed and his ears start ringing and everything around him becomes a white noise save for her voice.
"You're a monster. You don't deserve forgiveness."
Kai catapults awake to the smell of something burning and quickly put out the flames attempting to scorch the place. Glancing downward he notices that the journals remained intact. Checking his phone it reads 7:20pm, which means he was reading for at least five hours and passed out for the rest.
His phone vibrated with an unknown number popping up. With a degree of caution he answered. "Hello?"
"Kai? It's Mahir. I've been trying to get in contact with you for hours. I thought you got caught in a trap Joshua set or something."
"Uh yeah. I got distracted reading." He's still disoriented from getting up so fast.
"You okay? You're less talkative than usual."
"I'm fine. How did you get my number anyway?" Kai had sent a coded message to the coven in order for them to show up at the restaurant.
"Josette."
"Mahir, what did you do?" His voice held a warning tone. In spite of Jo wanting nothing to do with him he still held a soft spot for her.
"Chill, I just tracked her down and asked for it. Her husband though...he may have a cracked rib or two. My presence caught Josette off guard and he reacted accordingly which put him in his current predicament."
"And Jo?"
"Gave me your number and told me she never wanted to see me again."
"Okay good. As long as Jo's fine I don't care what happens to her husband."
"Heh. Sooo...how is it?"
"The things I found in here are indescribable! This place is just wow! But Mahir the craziest part are the journals I found here. They detail the Salem Witch Trails and the cause behind it."
"What? I thought that was mass hysteria."
"Same here but my ancestor Alastor described something completely different. He said something possessed a normal human woman making her act differently, unusual fits of anger, muttering strange things, and contorting her body into odd positions. It's recounted as a black mist that mostly wreaked havoc at night."
"Save for the black mist part you just described The Exorcist." Kai could hear air whipping in the background Mahir must've been outside driving. "That's crazy."
"Tell me about it, Bon-I mean a Bennett ancestor was blamed for obvious reasons along with some others."
"Anything else?"
"Apparently my ancestor was super thirsty. There's as many entries about Ana Bennett as there are about the trails."
Mahir let out a hearty laugh. "Seems like that runs in the family. Joshua was like that with Sheila, though he hid it well."
Kai's lip curled in disgust. "I did not need that picture."
"I don't know man I met Lucy Bennett once and let me tell you I would gladly bring her into the family."
"Stop!" Kai grabbed the suitcase he brought with him and opened it. "Look I'll call you back when I land back in Virginia."
"Cool. Catch you later."
"Later." Kai started stuffing it with the journals putting the Bennett one on top. "I'll just keep this with me for the time being." Looking back he also grabbed the Tesseract as well. He had a strange feeling he would need it.
Stepping out into the crisp night air Kai replaced the magic barriers and glamour back on the place and headed to the ferry.
-----
Elena runs into the room, phone in hand. "Damon I found them. They're...on the campus."
"Gee why didn't we look there first." He sat on the couch watching tv.
"Because someone was too wrapped up in his mother and then Bonnie." Elena spat.
"Why don't you want to bring Bonnie back Elena? She's our friend." He smirked. "Are you jealous or something? We did get pretty close in the prison world."
Elena was starting to question what she saw in him. "No Damon I'm not jealous. It's just that when I last saw her she looked so tired, so done with everything. As much as it pains me to say it I-I think she's better off without us." She hung her head sadly.
Damon turned the tv off. "That's bullshit Elena and you know it! She belongs here with us!"
"Not if it's only killing her inside! Bonnie's too good, to nice to say anything, but I watched her leave, Damon not you. And besides why are we bringing her back anyway? Just so she can fix all of our problems like always? Sacrifice herself like always?" Tears were beginning to pool in her eyes. Bonnie leaving of her own accord struck something in her. She was used to her friend just bouncing back from whatever was bothering her, ready to help the team.
Damon got up from the couch. "Elena, where is this coming from?"
"From watching my best friend leave everything she has ever known and loved behind just to have peace. Realizing that she did so much for me, hell everyone in this damn town, while I barely did the bare minimum for her." She fell to her knees sobbing. "I was so self absorbed I didn't even acknowledge Bonnie's problems. Or her constant suffering."
"Elena." Damon crutched down placing a hand on her shoulder. "Bonnie chose to do those things because she loves you. Like when she sent me back to you."
"But she shouldn't have had to do it in the first place. We should've done better Damon." She shook his hand off and stood up wiping her eyes. "Get up we have to get Stefan and Caroline to turn on their humanity before anymore people die."
-----
The salon they were heading to was on the other side of town. Bonnie was eyeing the small houses they were passing along the way, taking mental notes of the ones that had a for rent sign. Rusty, who wore himself out playing, was sleeping soundly in the backseat.
"Question."
"Shoot."
"How long does this process take?" Bonnie didn't want it to take too long as she wanted to check out those houses. The idea of the duplex sounded nice but she wanted privacy.
"You can't be serious." Noelle's tone was somehow both mocking and curious.
"Yes I am. I've never had any of those hairstyles before." She pointed to her bob. "It's always been like this and or curly."
Noelle side-eyed her. "Oh wow, but to answer your question it depends what hairstyle you get and how many people are doing your hair."
"Hmm. Do you have a book or magazine?"
"For the hair? Yeah there should be a magazine or two in the backseat."
Instead of just reaching back she used magic to put it in her hands. Bonnie began flipping through it, coming to a stop at a particular hairstyle. When they came to a light she pointed to it. "I think I want this one. The faux locs."
Noelle gasped. "I think that hairstyle would look gorgeous on you! Did you want shoulder length or long?"
"Long. I haven't had long hair in a while." Not since before she died for the second time. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Never again.”
"Eighteen inch would probably be best then." Noelle parked in front of a small african salon/barbershop. "We're here."
Bonnie peered at it from the passenger seat. It's a nice two story spot between a clothing boutique and a shoe store. Houses lined the rest of the street.
Noelle turned to her. "You ready?"
She glanced back at Rusty's sleeping form. "As I'll ever be."
Noelle left the back window open a crack and together the girls sashayed into the shop. There were two other women getting their hair done, three of the hairdressers were free. The place smelt of incense and it gave off a relaxing feeling.
Bonnie cleared her throat and spoke. "Hi. I would like to get my hair done in this style." She pointed to the the magazine she held up.
One of the middle aged african women smiled at her. "Sure, do you want any colors?"
"Black with caramel highlights."
The woman waved her over and Bonnie sat down. "Did you wash your hair today?"
"No."
"Okay. So first I'll wash and blow dry it then we'll get started."
"Alright."
As the two women walk to the back of the salon a heavy metal tune goes off catching the quiet place off guard. Noelle gives an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I'll be in the sitting area Bonnie."
Bonnie gave a thumbs up and laid her head back in the sink so it could be washed. In the process of getting it washed Bonnie could hear Noelle talking on the phone to someone. She could barely understand what was being said but she did recognize a few words from those anime that Jeremy used to watch.
"Arigato, ja matane." Noelle hung up and sat down next to Bonnie.
"You speak japanese?" Bonnie figured Noelle was mixed but not with japanese.
"Fluenty. My mom taught me."
"Cool."
5 minutes later Bonnie was in the chair getting her hair done. 10 minutes later another woman joined her speeding up the process. Noelle's phone rang again and she side-eyed Bonnie.
She raised an eyebrow in question.
"It's Caleb."
Bonnie went to lean forward but remembered there were people in her hair. "Answer it!"
She muttered a spell and put the phone on speaker. "Find out anything?"
Sirens could be heard in the background where he was. "We found another one. This time there are organs missing."
She groaned. "Who was it?"
"Mr. Shaw." Caleb said solemnly.
Noelle closed her eyes in reflection. "He was the local bookshop owner." She said to Bonnie.
"Gutted him like a fish. I'll be shocked if they get any-oof!"
Noelle and Bonnie could hear a deep voice reprimanding him followed by a quick sorry.
"That was the chief." The sound of the poilce chatter grew further away. "Anyway when Sian touch the body she freaked out and then fainted."
"What?!"
"Calm down. She of course then woke up spouting gibberish and promptly vomited. Other than that she's fine."
"Did you manage to catch anything?"
"Uh, let me see...here it is! She said something about a messenger of the U.M.N and don't leave the castle."
Noelle looked like she seen a ghost. "The U.M.N is involved?" Her hands begin to shake causing her phone to clatter to the floor. "No." Her voice came out in a whisper.
Bonnie was bewildered. "Noelle? What's the U.M.N?"
She wasn't responding just beginning to hyperventilate.
"Noelle!" Bonnie grabbed her arm and shook her.
"What?" Her eyes still looked haunted but otherwise she was coherent.
"What's going on? You were starting to panic."
"The Underground Magic Network." She blurted it out.
"Yeah you said that."
"They're a massive group of dark magic users that terrorized Havencrest twenty years ago." She bent down to pick up her phone. "Probably trying to release that thing under the church in the woods."
"What thing?" Something besides Rusty was calling her here, that much she knew for sure.
Noelle met her gaze. "The black mist that caused the hysteria of the Salem Witch Trials. The six covens sealed it in this town."
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RFA with MC who blocks people out like Seven does
Bitch same
Yoosung-
^He’s so happy to finally meet you
^You’d been so sweet on the messenger, he didn’t think anything could ever be wrong
^And it wasn’t for a while. You guys were happy, you spent the party together and even got drinks afterward (non alcoholic bc he’s too pure)
^A few weeks later, you stopped responding to the messenger.
^You couldn’t explain why, but you felt like fire, and you couldn’t let him get too close. You couldn’t let him get burned.
^You couldn’t let him get burned
^You couldn’t let him get burned
^He deserved better than you anyway. You always did get people hurt somehow.
^He was too pure to get burned
^Yoosung is worried out of his mind
^“Why isn’t MC online? Is she ok? Is she alive? Seven is she okay where is she why is this happening wHAT DO I DO TO GET GER BACK WHAT IF SHE’S DEAD?!?!?!”
^Eventually Seven gives up and tells Yoosung your address (he got things hooked up at your house so you could leave the apartment and go home)
^hE LEGIT RUNS THERE HE HAS NO TIME TO WAIT FOR ANYTHING
^He forgets to knock and just crashes open the door
^“MC ARE YOU OKAY WHAT’S GOING ON”
^“Go away. I don’t want to hurt you.”
^Um??? What??
^Didn’t believe you could ever hurt him
^“M-MC? What do you mean”
^“Don’t you see it? I’m fire. I’ll warm you when you’re close, but get too close and you’ll get burned.”
^Baby is so confused
^“You could never hurt me, I doubt you could ever hurt anything.”
^“Don’t say that so easily. You’ve known me a couple weeks, I’ve known me my whole life.”
^He’s kinda spooked cause you haven’t moved anything but your mouth and you’re speaking only monotone
^“I may not have known you long, but you’ve still shown me your heart, and your heart is good. You shine like the sun to me. I’ve never believed for a second you were a bad person, and I don’t now. Please let your heart stay with me. Please don’t let my sun turn cold.”
^Eventually, you get over it. You two just cuddle for the rest of the night and he doesn’t leave for 3 days until you make him go to classes again.
^Like Rika and V, you guys call each other your sun.
^You never let his sun go cold again.
Zen
*Hooooly shit
*He saves you from Unknown and brings you to his house for protection
*He figures you’ll recover from the shock with time
*Oh boy is he wrong
*You shut down. Completely.
*“Jagiya~ can I help you at all”
*-silence-
*“Ok, if you need your space, I’ll give you that. Tell me when you’re ready.”
*He’s so sweet, honestly
*It only makes you worse tbh
*Because he’s sweet. Because he’s talented. Because people love him. Because the world is a better place with him in it.
*Because Unknown is after you.
*Zen could’ve been seriously hurt.
*He could’ve fucking died.
*You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t be near him until you were safe, otherwise he wasn’t safe.
*One night when he’s asleep, you try to leave. You quickly scratch a note saying “You’re safer this way. Until the hacker is caught, I’m dangerous. Don’t follow me, please. I care for you too much.”
*Of course while you’re writing that. Zen wakes up.
*“MC? What’s the fuss about? Why are you still awake?”
*He comes up behind you and sees what you’re writing.
*You want to run, but you can’t bring yourself to.
*He doesn’t say anything for a while, just hugs you from behind until you aren’t stiff anymore
*After that though, he’s still very sweet
*“MC, I fought him off once and I can do it again.”
*“That might not be true. He could come back worse. He will come back worse.”
*“I’ll fight him off a million times, each worse than the last, as long as you’re by my side, MC. When my heart beats, it beats for you. When I sing, I sing for you now. You’re my muse, MC.”
*That convinces you to stay.
* Moonlit slow dancing
Jaehee
[]She’s so stressed all the time
[]You love her so much
[]She says you’re a source of comfort from that, but you aren’t sure
[]Relationships are hard work
[]Wouldn’t she be better off without your pointless fights about who’s doing the dishes or which Zen CD you’re watching that night?
[]Wouldn’t she be better off without that stress?
[]You don’t know where to go yet, so for now, you just shut down.
[]“Babe, how was your day?” You hear when she gets home
[]“Fine.”
[]“How are you?”
[]“Fine.”
[]“Why again didn’t you come to the cafe?”
[]-silence-
[]“MC? You sure you’re ok?”
[]“Fine. Don’t worry about me.”
[]She knew something was up
[]After all, she was anything but dumb
[]“MC, please tell me what’s wrong.” She begged, clasping her hands around yours.
[]You looked away.
[]“Nothing. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll make dinner. I’ll do the dishes.”
[]You hated every word. You knew you were worrying her more, but eventually she’d stop caring. Then she’d be ok.
[]“I can’t enjoy myself with you like this. Forgive me, but you sound like I did when I was trying not to get in the way during Mr. Han’s meetings.”
[]“That sounds stressful. I’m glad you’re not there anymore.”
[]“I still would be if not for you, MC. You gave me that courage.”
[]That catches you.
[]You gave her the courage to leave.
[]You break down and tell her your plan
[]“Oh, MC. You’re the least stressful thing in my whole life, you have been since we met. You built me up when I needed courage, you were by my side when I needed support and you were speaking when I needed kind words.”
[]You never worry about being stressful for her again
Jumin
$Jumin was off on a business trip
$He was away for work a lot, you were used to it. You loved him and you trusted that he would always love you.
$But the trips became more frequent, and some voice in the back of your mind said
$“He’s avoiding you.”
$You brushed it off, that would be stupid.
$Why would he ever avoid you?
$But when he was home, you felt like he was still drowning himself in work. He could’ve easily taken a break, but he didn’t.
$Why?
$You must not be the same you anymore. He doesn’t confide in you because you’re no longer safe to confide in.
$You’re hurting him.
$You’re hurting him by remaining in his life.
$You tuck yourself in a far corner of the penthouse.
$You hope he never finds you. You aren’t sure you’ll be able to leave without guards following you so you need to find an escape route first.
$You could get Elizabeth to go missing again, but you couldn’t do that to Jumin. This was all for him, after all.
$To your surprise, almost immediately you start to hear him calling for you.
$“MC? MC?! Oh god where is she… why isn’t she here… GUARDS! I need all of you looking for MC right now. I don’t care about anything else. Oh god… oh god… oh god…”
$Tentatively, you come out of hiding.
$The moment Jumin sees you, he rushes over and hugs you for a long time.
$“You’re… happy? To find me?” You asked slowly.
$“Of course. I panicked when you were not in your usual spot. I may have overreacted a bit, but it brought you back.”
$“I was planning to leave. You were so deep in work, I thought you were avoiding me.”
$You wondered how panicked he’d been if he was,
$“I’m so sorry. Work has been so much harder. I wanted it to be a surprise but… my father is stepping down. I’m going to be company chairman, and I’ve been trying to meet everyone my father worked with before and learn to take his position.”
$“I thought you already knew how?”
$“I’ve been the director until now. I was slowly learning to be chairman alongside my responsibilities, but my father is retiring sooner than planned because…
$“Why?”
$“Because he thinks it will pressure me to come up with another company heir…”
$You smirk, having regain all your trust in him
$“I think we can come up with one.”
Saeyoung~
7He shut down first
7Which caused you to back off
7Your thought process being that he had enough to worry about. You were only distracting him. You were a challenge he needed to overcome.
7You tried to make overcoming it a lot easier by disappearing.
7He didn’t notice for a while, just glad you were leaving him alone.
7He figured you were safe and happy
7Why wouldn’t you be?
7You were neither of those things.
7You were a thorn bush, and he would bleed if you didn’t disappear.
7You were an ocean, and he’d drown if he didn’t get to shore.
7You wanted to disappear.
7You needed to disappear.
7You would destroy yourself until you disappeared.
7Your mind was a dark whirlpool, pulling you into this crushing, toxic void.
7Seven didn’t notice until he looked up and realized he hadn’t seen you get something to eat in a while.
7He still forced himself to ignore it. Why wouldn’t you be eating? You were safe, he knew that.
7Oh buddy boy was he wrong
7He only started to pay attention when at night when he figured you’d be asleep.
7But he heard breathing besides his own.
7It was raspy.
7You hadn’t gotten water either.
7He checks to see where it’s coming from.
7He finds you curled up in a ball in a different corner. You don’t even look up when you see him, but he watches you tense up even more.
7"What the hell, MC?! What are you doing?!“
7Not the right time to stay cold, palarino.
7"Don’t… pay attention… to me…” You croaked. “I’m… fine… I will… disappear…”
7It seemed like every word put you in pain.
7Your voice didn’t even sound like yours.
7"What the fuck?“
7He stops you from speaking again until he gets you water.
7His heart is about to break honestly, he just wanted you to be okay.
7"Okay now answer me: What the hell are you doing?”
7"You need to work. You need to focus. I am an obstacle. I stopped you from doing your agency work, I’ll distract you here. I must disappear so that you can work and be ok. I must not exist so that I don’t get in your way.“ You said it like it was fact, like it had always been true.
7He hates himself so much
7What’s new?
7He glumly thought that he had to take his own advice- don’t judge people by how they are online.
7"MC. Listen to me. Don’t you dare disappear. Don’t. Please.”
7It was like you couldn’t hear him.
7He could hear you quietly start repeating “I must disappear,” over and over.
7What had he done?
7He sat next to you and curled in a ball as well.
7"If you disappear, the world might lose its color. If you disappear, I’m afraid no one might ever laugh again, or smile again. You brought all of that to me, you must bring it to the rest of the world. You are light and you are faith. As long as I know you’re safe, I can do anything.“
7Now you couldn’t speak a word at all.
7He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
7Eventually, he felt you relax, like you couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore. Your arms fell away from your knees, you just kind of went limp.
7He knew that at least was a good sign.
7You just sort of stayed there for a while, next to each other. Seven eventually guides you into resting on his lap, and strokes your hair until you fall asleep.
7He can’t bear to see you like that.
7He never pushes you away again, it seems more dangerous than being with him.
7Soon, he falls asleep with you in his lap.
7You two could’ve stayed like that until the end of time.
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Conflicted
I've never met someone so in the way. You only want me when I'm doing me. I fell back in lust with you because you're familiar... but even then its not enough to keep me captivated... I know you're a temporary person in my life and it sucks that I've known it for a while but never had the guts to be upfront with myself... I lost all of me trying to love you, I lost my independence, my free will, my opinion, my voice.... With you, your personality was so strong it took over mine... You left me no room to be me that I found myself in silence to frequently... Holding my tongue because you didn't like my witty comments. Staying focused on whatever task I'm doing simply because being aware of my surroundings was to alert for you... I found my past being constantly brought up, my every mistake , my every flaw, my every hope and dream spat back in my face along with a clever insult. I became so filled with rage I became the person I am now who is filled with regret and anger... Regret because I regret not putting my foot down, regret because I told myself I'd never let anyone change me, I told myself I'd never let a person have the power to control how I viewed myself, I told myself I'd never let me hurt again.... And I let myself down... I let myself become so constumed with my surroundings and personal misery I stopped fighting... I stopped fighting for me... I gave up and settled.... I never wanted to be the girl who forgot about her hopes and dreams because the opticals were to hard... I never wanted to be the girl who let harsh words get to me... I never wanted to give up and for years I did... for years I let myself become so self observed It swallowed all of me.. I never wanted to become this person... I'm angry I didn't love myself harder, I'm angry I didn't put myself first... I'm angry I put myself in a position to lose.... I deserved so much more than what I settled for.... So now I've come to terms with the fact that this is my fault... I've finally hit a point where I want to rebuild myself, grow from a toxic situation and pull myself from the depths of this ocean inside me that I'm drowing in.... I'm finally ready to go through the weird feelings , I'm finally ready to push myself to the limit again... to strive and be this strong independent person I know I can be, I am.... I am ready to grow... because I've out grew the old me... theres no where to go but up.... I catch myself supressing my feelings by falling back into old habits because it's familiar.... I guess thats why I find myself telling myself that you've changed or that I've changed instead of accepting the fact that you and I have so much history and so many unhealed wounds that we fall into the same old routines because its hard to live with eachother yet its hard to act like we're not use to one another.... I guess thats why we only miss eachother when we're apart... Because we both know we can't go 20 minutes without bickering... We're 2 different types of people.... But we have history... history is the only thing in the way of moving forward... History because when you look at the time spent together we could look at one another and say damn... but we've come so far, there has got to be light at the end of the tunnel... I'll read some cliché quote and tell myself that it's all okay because "nothing worth while comes easy" ... If you died I'd cry, I'd cry because you've grown on me... you changed my life.... weather you enjoy me as much as I enjoy you... a part of me loves the fact that you and I have 3 ties to one another.. The other half of me feels troubled and sad that this could never end on a clean break... the same half that tells myself you never cared from the beginning because if you did things wouldn't of ended up the way it did... But it takes 2, it takes 2 to tango just like it takes 2 to make us work... I fell short on a lot of things... I lost the tinkle in my eye... I lost the love I once had... I let past events replay in my mind like broken records to remind myself that I was holding grudges or that it would never forgive.. The same way I feed my confused mind the illusion that you never cared.... I'm stuck between 2 worlds and so many thoughts that I can't focus... Coming off you is like coming off the hardest drug.. I'm an addict for you attention, for your approval, for your lust and for your love... Idk if I'll ever recover off you... but like an addict I've quit you 1000 times... yet I've never truly escaped you... because we always come back to one another.... I'm lost in my head... and I probably went in circles... but this is the type of thoughts that cloud my mind, the cold truths and battles between my heart and my mind....
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Practice Gratitude: Day 2
So, today sucked. I’ve been overly anxious and getting sad for no reason again even though I did not miss a single anti-depressant. Being on the verge of losing someone you love sucks. Decision making sucks. But my happiness matters, I matter, and I need to take matters into my own hands this time. How can I optimize my happiness with someone so toxic? Realizing the reality of things may be the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Worst because my heart is in shambles, but this post is about gratitude so I’m going to talk about the lessons learned from situations like this. Today I realized that I should not have to beg for support from someone who claims to love me. I realized that I am magnificent, I am a gem and I’m one in a million. I’m adorable, I have gorgeous hair, a gorgeous face, a good body. I’m funny, I’m silly, I’m open, I’m compassionate, I’m empathic. Most importantly, I deserve to be treated with care, compassion, respect, and support. Not coldness, bitterness, anger, and verbal abuse. How can I put myself first and care for myself when my “other half” is constantly tearing me down and getting angry and making me feel like absolute crap? When I’m happy, he usually finds something to be angry about or focus on the negatives instead of the progress. But when I’m not happy, that’s when he’s most angry. It is not okay for me to get sad, my feelings are silenced. Things are good when I don’t talk about my feelings or cry. But the second I do, he’s angry. And if I comment about the lack of support, he’s angry. There’s no winning in this cycle of abuse. Although I have bad days, they are a lot less and I’ve learned to cope a lot better. Before starting my anti-depressants, the thought of this break-up would have been enough to send me over the edge. I thought I NEEDED him to survive, I didn't value myself or think I deserved to be treated with respect. I thought I deserved the shitty treatment I was receiving. Realizing that this is not what I deserve has been a huge awakening - a potential opening for more possibility and positivity and love into my life. Although I am fearful and I am sad and it is hard to let go of someone you love and have made so many memories with, it feels good to stand on my own for once. It feels good to cry and not have anyone tell me I need to control myself or that they feel they are babysitting me or ignore it or tell me I am psychotic. It feels nice to cry and express my feelings and get support, instead of the person I contacted first making me feel worse over things I should not feel bad about. In a way, although I am losing a loved one, I know I will find someone who sees me crying and reacts with love and support. Right now, I need to look out for what’s best for Tanya because I care about myself more than I ever have. I’ve realized that if someone is doing more bad for you than good and is constantly tearing you down instead of bringing you up, it’s probably for the best to rid their energy from your life. It does not matter how many times I tell him what he does, I am too nice, I forgive too much, and I am constantly getting walked all over. Fuck that shit, I’m done. Realizing my potential has helped clear me of many negative situations and although I may be temporarily sad, I am doing this for a lifetime of happiness. Imagine if I would have stayed, just how much worse things would have gotten. Imagine a lifetime of feeling bad for getting upset or expressing yourself. It could have been my reality. Be thankful for the curveballs life throws you, grow and learn from them. There’s always good and opportunity that stems from hardships, you will grow stronger and you will thank yourself some day.
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