#DID HE MAKE A FRACTURED FAMILY N SAY EMILY I AM PUTTING A PIECE OF THE REAL YOU IN2 THE PERSON WHO RUIND YOUR LIFE BY TRYING TO PROTECT YOU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hecohansen31 · 5 years

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Micheal had noticed you a while ago. You were interesting, and beautiful in his eyes, but you seemed to think differently, your mind was always so loud, angry thoughts of no self-worth and worthlessness were a constant thing when he saw you. When you and him finally have an interview, the question "how do you feel about yourself?" comes up. And after a few failed attempts at lying. Everything comes pouring out, about how you hated yourself, and it was caused by a past abusive relationship.

(A/N): Hello lovely!

Thank you for sending this in!

I am honestly extremely sorry for taking this long with it my writing and everything, I actually am on vacation and it is a bit of a social life everyday (Please life stop I need my mental relax…). But I swear I didn’t forgot about it!

Also, HUGE DISCLAIMER: I haven’t been in an abusive relationship or witnessed one, so most fo what i wrote is based on others’ experience, most fo which fictional.

If there is even something that makes you uncomfortable or offended, lovely please let me know, and I will delete it and rewrite it.

Thank you, again!

WARNINGS: Mentions of Violence, Abusive Relationship and Abusive Behaviors (graphic description!).

Something that Michael had first understood, when he had met her was that she was a survivor.

Not a martyr like the other residents of the Outpost 3: lazy and greedy beings, not worthy of a shot of the redemption they were magically hoping for, since his arrival.

They were expecting to be picked for the Sanctuary, the miraculous place they would finally be all happy, after the Apocalypse destroyed their beloved planet.

Their new chance to live a happy and fulfilling life.

But still… they did nothing to earn it.

Nothing to make Michael feel pitiful towards their state.

Only disgust came to his mind when he thought about the people, who lived in the little shelter, thinking they were only useful for the slaughter.

Except her, the one who tried to make the Outpost feel more like a home.

She listened to Coco’s mindless ideas, meanwhile she tried to make the spoiled heiress feel like she might be more grateful towards the poor Greys she treated as slaves.

She avoided full-blown fights between Gallant and Evie, shushing the latter and trying to make the former feel better about himself.

She helped in her own way the romance between Timothy and Emily, hiding them from Venable or just standing at guard in the room the duo was talking, to make sure that nobody thought about a possible relationship, between the two.

She even let Dinah talk her entire bullshit at her, giving her any kind of TV show advice, meanwhile she just nodded and kept her head stuck in a book, probably to hide her giggle and boredom.

She was a good person, the type that Michael didn’t think would be still alive, and the fact that she was quite a beauty didn’t help, in the slightest…

He soon developed an infatuation towards her, finding way after way to spend time with her, sitting beside her during the meals, and trying to find her in the library alone.

But not only she was extremely squeamish when this happened, but her thoughts betrayed a darker truths: self-loathing thoughts flew in her mind and she was constantly putting herself down, insulting herself for any mistake and when there weren’t… she just shot insults on her physique or mind.

He had never wanted to introduce himself in her thoughts, but they were just so so loud and he couldn’t help but hear them, angry and red, screaming out from her head, till they eventually lost their voices or he would just run away, taken by the interviews or some conversation with Venable.

But in reality, some of part of him, his so-called-humanity, rooted for her and just wanted to gently lay her down next to him, caress her hair and listen to what she had to say about herself, fighting away all those horrible insecurities.

He had left her in the last rounds of interviews, hoping to know more about her in a less threatening way, but not only she refused to share more than he saw, but also she seemed a true afraid animal whenever they were even for a minute alone, and those angry thoughts covered her quiet ones.

So, when her interview came around, she stood on the chair as if there were burning coals under it, nervous and at unease, even more when he locked the door, and she uttered shyly an:

“Is it necessary?” her lashed hid her eyes, but her voice was teary and soft enough to smell of pure fear “… can’t we leave it open?”.

“It is better to close it” he replied, trying his best to appear calm and open, to ease a bit of calmness into her “… we wouldn’t want anybody to listen on your business, Mrs (L/N), would we?”.

She simply nodded, her eyes immediately lowering to her polished shoes: not a single thing in her appearance was out of place or recognizable.

It was almost as if she shrank in herself, to appear trivial and ordinary, just another human.

Whereas they both knew she wasn’t a simple human.

It took more than a simple human to get the Antichrist sleepless because he couldn’t fathom why somebody might hate herself like that.

-Mrs (L/N), how are you finding yourself at this humble house? – he asked, meanwhile he sat down in front of her, looking at the elegant desk where he had set down a little piece of paper and a pen, as if he intended to take notes, but with his side-eye he looked at her scrunched face, worried and a bit scared, but she soon found the voice to reply.

-… it is quite nice…- she raised a bit her head, and as if he had seen a ghost take over he face, she morphed into a smiling girl -… as nice as a post-apocalyptic shelter can be-.

Although he had to keep up his stern behavior, he let out mentally a laugh, and was surprised of that side of the girl, which quickly went back to the submissive tone she had started the interview with.

-… it is always nice to keep a positive note in places like this- he replied, sternly but he tried to let a bit of warmth linger in his tone -… and I saw that you are constantly helping your fellow survivors, whereas they aren’t so nice towards you…-.

He didn’t need to word the question, because she understood and, watching the rim of the desk, she answered:

-As you said there is need of nice people in places like that…- she mumbled, meanwhile twirling her finger around, sadly he also saw that there were some scratches on them, almost scars of self-harm, which he could link to her nails -… I don’t honestly understand why I was saved, just some men grabbing me because my genetical exam passed some tests-.

He had read in her files, something about her being indeed special in that department, alongside a long array of fractured bones and accidental cuts: he hadn’t been dumb enough not to realize that she was either extremely clumsy or there was something behind.

-… what about your family? – her family had also perished, according to her files, he already knew it, but he wanted to realize if anything in that department triggered something, but she just shook her head, revealing that she didn’t know what had happened to them, and only melancholic sadness shone in her eyes, but nothing which might show the aftermaths of an abuse -… what did you do before you were brought into the Outpost?-.

-I did actually different jobs- she scratched her hair, gently, as if she was trying to remember it all -… but my last employment was as a teacher for children with special need, and I was actually unemployed for three months after that-.

-Did you get fired or was it willingly…? – he had immediately seen the little shine in her eyes at the mention of her job, clearly she had liked her job and he could see by the way she hid in herself that he had hit a sore spot.

-I had a medical emergency and a familiar problem which made me quit- she said it in a way that asked to respect her and to avoid ask further questions.

But wasn’t the devil the one who gifted humankind curiousness?

-Care to explain more? -.

She had basically shrank in herself even more, her feet being on the chair, meanwhile her arms circled herself, as if she was ready to protect herself, her head ready to duck into her arms, in order to be protected by any kind of hitting her invisible assaulter might decide to do.

And there Michael had not the survivor anymore, just a scared little girl.

He had thought he would have somehow eradicated his sudden attraction for the girl with that image, but there was a softness in her and in him a will to protect her, to make her feel protected and to avenge her, that he thought that maybe soulmates existed.

-It was a car incident- she tried to lie, but her voice was shaky, exactly as her hands.

-… I would prefer that you didn’t lie to me, Mrs (L/N)- he remembered her, although he tried to word it as carefully as he could, with softness in his tone but also strength in his resistance and search of the truth -… I appreciate the truth as much as what comes with it-.

-I don’t think…- her voice broke halfway, and when it came back her eyes had finally raised to meet his -… I can’t-.

Tears now were flowing onto her cheeks and it pained him, in its deepest core.

-… you are safe, Mrs (L/N)- he comforted her, holding an hand out, not touching her, knowing it might trigger something in her, and she was thankful for it, shyly moving her hand towards it, but still not grabbing it -… I swear it-.

-… it was my ex-boyfriend- she finally let out, almost as a deep breath -… it is such a stupid thing to say, because I didn’t expect to be “that” girl… but it happened-.

And then she explained softly how she had met Christian, he had been sweet and nice with her, the perfect guy, but slowly he had shown the typical abuser signs, but she had been too blindly in love with him to react, and he had at first taken away her self-esteem.

“That skirt is too short, and even if you wanted to wear it, your legs look ugly in it. I don’t say this to be mean, but I want you to be better”.

Then it had been her friend.

“They said something bad about me, how can you stand that?! I thought you loved me” and slowly she broke away from her childhood friend, the college ones and the simple acquaintances of her work, but worst of all her family.

“They won’t support us… well… then we don’t need them! Those pompous assholes”.

And not only he had used manipulation but he had also gaslighted her into believing everything he said and each of his fault… was on her!

He had lost his job.

“It’s all your fault, you pathetic bitch, you wanted us to spend more time together and this happened!”.

He had once came back from a fight in a bar and meanwhile she had tried to clean his wound, he had grabbed her hand and twisted it, not hard enough for him to break her arm, but she had ugly bruises on the following day and although she brushed it off as any other insult he had thrown on his way, because “he would never hurt her”, she couldn’t help but be a bit scared.

He had come back with flowers and expensive wine (with her money, but she hadn’t been able to mention it) and had proclaimed that he had found a job.

She had thought it was only just a stupid and horrible period, and everything would be fine.

But it kept happening, whether or not Christian was employed, whether or not she did something to anger him, whether or not she cried and begged for mercy.

It never came.

Instead one time the ambulance had to bring her out of her home and for the first time in two years she met again with her mother.

The poor woman hadn’t slept after she had been called I the middle of the night about her daughter basically being an inch from death and being under a brain surgery since somebody had basically smashed her head against a wall.

Her mother had been extremely scared by the doctors who had adverted her that her daughter might not only wake up with no memory of her, but also no ability to speak hear or see.

“Brain injuries are very horrible and till the patient isn’t awake we can’t know, but she was lucky enough to arrive her and be alive, so let’s all pray that whoever rules our destiny that she will be fine” had mumbled a doctor to her mother who had religiously sit by her bed the entire time, and when she had woken up, she had her memories and faculty to speak and see, but a terrible headache.

Her mother had almost laughed when she had told her this, before starting crying and in that horrible moment she had realized she couldn’t go on, not because she cared about herself particularly but because she honestly couldn’t let the people who loved her be hurt.

Not when she knew they still cared about her, even because of this.

She hadn’t been able to confront Christian one last time, but she had indeed signed a restraint order towards him and she had moved with her parents again, finally hearing their laughs again, the teasing voice of your sister and the softness of nights spent in peace.

But sometimes things triggered her past memories, a noise too loud made her cower in herself, as if she had heard a scream or the simple crackling of bones remembered her of her own bones breaking and soon that apparent peace became another trap.

She started falling into a deep depression, feeling guilty both for what she was imposing onto her parents and both because she had been just so so stupid…

Nothing would have happened, had she been…

But the truth was that she couldn’t have done much more and could only focus on the fact that she had managed to escape him.

In those three months before the Apocalypse hit her, she had been falling down the rabbit hole, living also in fear of Christian coming back, and she knew that the Apocalypse should have just pushed her further, but secluded in that horrible shelter she had found herself again.

The voices in her head still screamed, but in that calm atmosphere, the nightmares quieted somehow…

… till Michael Langdon’s appearance shadowed hers.

He seemed so interested in her and she, an hurt animal, couldn’t help but run away and put herself down in front of him, scared that what happened with Christian might happen again with him, alongside her constant thoughts of being spoiled and rotten.

Damaged goods, as Christian called her.

-… I feel so sorry…- she couldn’t help but finish her entire story with those words -…I am sorry to have burdened you with these stupid things-.

And she moved to grab his hand, gently squeezing in, before ducking her head to the ground, ashamed by her sudden emotional outburst, but Michael gently squeezed her hand back, gaining her attention and a raise of her head.

-Mrs (L/N) or if you may, (Y/N), you are not a burden, in the slightest and I am actually the one who is sorry for bringing this all up, it wasn’t what I intended…-.

He couldn’t help but be heartbroken by her confession, it was the truest he had ever heard, a true human with a pure tormented soul: had he finally found someone who was worth the Sanctuary.

-How else would you know our darkest secrets? – she tried to lighten up the room, as she did so many times, alongside changing the subject, but he didn’t let her.

-… it was still… not my purpose to reduce you to tears- he gently brought out a handkerchief, offering it to her with the hand she wasn’t holding.

-Well… at least we now know that I won’t be heartbroken when I don’t make it in the Sanctuary- and it was too dark to brighten the affirmation or to laugh it up, but it also got to Michael’s head and before he knew it he had immediately jumped up from his chair.

-Why would you think that you won’t make it in Sanctuary- he could see the fear in her eyes, her head had indeed been ducked into her arms, but he had an hunch on why she might say something like that -… (Y/N)… you are the only one who has shown me a some truth, and for this you are the only interesting being in this Outpost-.

-I am spoiled goods, Mr Langdon- tears blurred her words, but Michael knew them and ach one hurt him.

-You aren’t in the slightest- his voice lowered an octave, in an attempt to seem calm, meanwhile he circled the desk in order to be closer to her, although he kept himself at a reasonable distance, crouching on the ground, at her feet -… you are a survivor, (Y/N), the brave and sweet woman I couldn’t help but admire, from the start of my staying at the Outpost. You are the only one I would think of bringing at the Sanctuary, a true pure soul, with a tormented past-.

-After Christian… I don’t know if I can…- she was scared he was demanding for more, which he wouldn’t.

So many people had taken too much from her and he wouldn’t ask her to give anything else, if not freely.

He would just wait till she would give anything to him.

For now, he just could live on the sweet smile that appeared on her face.

And the knowledge that Christian had perished horribly in one of his previous visits to the other Outposts…

-Now let’s talk about more merry themes, my lovely (Y/N)- he sweetened his tone and she giggled, a heavenly sound truly -What is your favorite dessert? -.

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