#A POSITIVE IMPACT. AND ALSO SAID IT MADE THEM CRY. HELLO :’).

[lem-argentum]

is it not so beautiful that we can impact people we’ve never met with just a few kind words. is it not beautiful that we have the ability to make someone smile even when we are so far away

[crocheting-cupio]

hiii :] favorite nin songs? i'm curious what others we might share

Hello! :) It's going to be hard not to include everything on The Fragile and Broken, but I will try!

La Mer -> The Great Below -> The Way Out Is Through -> Into The Void. I feel like these four are one continuous work and and they are their strongest together. So I will count them as "one song." Anyway, they impacted me harder than The Downward Spiral (the album) did, which I didn't think was possible. Together, they are one of my favourite works of art of all time. And as someone who went to art school I've seen a lot of incredible art in all kinds of mediums.

Please. I mentioned this in my response to your post but IT KEEPS REPEATING! WILL YOU PLEASE COMPLETE ME?! [Clears throat] I don't know what came over me just then. So basically I wasn't the same man after hearing this for the first time. In my brain, being the writer and composer of Please is one of Trent's highest accomplishments. It's that good to me.

Pilgrimage. I think this one also altered my brain chemistry. It's such a weird track and I can't stop thinking about it. Also the auditory textures are immaculate.

The Becoming. This song is everything to me. Odd time signatures that never feel steady, sounds meant to make you feel very uncomfortable, long verses that never seem to end, extremely deliberate but strange sounding emphasis on syllables, I could go on forever.

Reptile. I don't know how to explain it but this song puts me on a new plane of existence. It feels like an emotional state that is both everything at once and nothing at all. Not to mention it being an incredible work of sound design.

Sin. I wouldn't be reposting the PHM fancam every Monday if I didn't absolutely LOVE this song. It was one of the first NIN songs I heard, and I said to myself "I don't care if the rest of what this guy made is crap, this is one of the best songs I've ever heard."

Ringfinger. A track so underrated sometimes even I forget how good it is. Just generally a really good song that I love, not a lot more to say.

Happiness in Slavery. I love this one because in the intense parts it feels like the song itself is attacking me (positive) but in the quieter moments it feels like a cry for help.

Suck. I really like the balance of intensity, rage, and heavy textures mixed with quiet, sensual, and regretful moments. It's like Closer and The Big Come Down put into a blender.

Only. Immensely catchy with very relatable lyrics, this is one of Trent's best for sure. Actually, it has helped me with social anxiety. If I get really anxious that no one actually likes me, I start singing "I just made (that version of) you UP, to HURT myself" until I convince myself no one actually feels that way about me.

Sunspots. The bass in this one is just incredible, I can almost feel the airwaves vibrate through my body. Combined with Trent's gentle and quiet voice it's a very pleasant sensory experience. Great for decompression after sensory overload.

The Line Begins to Blur. I really, really love the balance of noisiness and texture contrasted with smooth gentle sounds. It's very Fragile-esque but it feels more in control, focused, and significantly less "I'm dead inside." It's truly beautiful in every way.

Discipline. To be honest, Discipline > Head Like a Hole and The Hand That Feeds. Of all the very pop and mainstream songs Trent has made (that I've heard so far), this one is absolutely the strongest for me. It's so undoubtedly Nine Inch Nails, yet fits so perfectly amongst much less alternative/industrial artists. I'm 100% recommending it to anyone who wants to get into NIN. (My Mom also loves this song, it's her favourite NIN song I think.)

1,000,000. This one is kind of amazing to me because it's like every angry depression song Trent made up to that point rolled into one. Like actually just playing them all at the same time, I feel like I'm under psychic attack (positive). It's also... Unfortunately catchy. I have to be careful not to sing it out loud.

Thank you for the ask and for coming to my TED Talk! :)

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

OP Men Holding Their Newborns For The First Time (Part 2) SFW

Hello lovely spirits! I made a part two and my heart melted typing this out. The first ones I did were of the WBP if you would like to check it out the link is right here ! This will include Law, Mihawk,Katakuri, Kid, Killer, X-Drake, Sanji and Zoro! More will come soon!!! I hope you guys enjoy!!!!

Warnings: Babies

Law 

Law’s hands are the first to come in contact with the newborn as it is arriving in this world. As a doctor and new father in just a matter of moment he hears the small cries. Law walked to the small bassinet of the newborn. He had to make sure everything was clear and okay for him to have his moment, he didn't want any interuptions . His hands carefully picking up the newborn. Adjusting his posture his eyes fixated on the delicate human that just yawned and made a small sound towards the end. He tried prepared himself with the cute things he was about to see, it also didn't help to see the little beanie on their head that resembles Bepo's ears. But he didn’t prepare well enough for a man who could steal hearts just had his stolen “I don’t think you realized it now, but you have my heart-ya.”

Mihawk

He found himself so engulfed with infant the candles lite just enough for him to see. He seen them trying to open their eyes.  “abre los ojos” his voice was soft to the child. Just after moments of him saying that the child’s eyes slowly began to open. He seen their eyes wander the dim candle lit room. Knowing their eyesight isn’t the best at far distances. “Mi Pequeño” Mihawk spoke again, noticing the newborn’s eyes looking at him. The months passing Mihawk did often refer to his unborn child Mi Pequeño while they were still in the womb. “For being so small you had made a big impact in my life.”  Mihawk did keep the room dim for the next few nights. Often when he was up with the baby he watch with any little comment he made the newbons eyes would directly look at him. 

Katakuri

The sweets commander mentally preparing himself for what he just seen. In just moments the tussled pink hair child was in his arms. Katakuri was very stiff at first, he didn’t want to move a muscle. He feared if he moved, he would make his newborn cry. In his mind he thought about as the child grew up would they face some of the same challenges he did as a child. Also questioning himself if he would be a good father. The longer he held the child the more he began to feel more comfortable. Katakuri knew this child would be loved by so many. He found himself humming his donut song as held his little one. “You shall not worry about anything my sweet child, I will always be with you.” Once he had them in his arms he didn't want to put them down

Kid

The serious look on this guys face said it all. He was HELLA nervous he watched this child being brought into this world. The first time they asked him he said no. His reasoning was because he had one arm at this time and he feared he would not hold the baby right. He didnt want to have his metal arm on because of the oil that was between the gears. The second time he was offered while sitting down the nurse suggest a certain position that would secure for the child in his arm. Being place in his arm, he looked down at the swaddled newborn. He felt the baby moving in the swaddle seeing them scrunch their nose up, Kid was expecting them to cry but they let out a sneeze that almost sounded like a squeaky toy. “Gesundheit” he said. Kid was thinking when they get old they could help him in his workshop a mini him walking around. The corner of his mouth curled up “your gonna be one badass kid.. In a good way.”

Killer 

Killer had to take a moment and process he was now a dad to a small person that almost look identical to him. He was deep in thought about everything all at once. It was cut shortly when he heard his little egg noodle crying. The baby ate and fell asleep right away, he wanted to wait a moment before he held the child wanting them to rest but seeing they were up this was his que. Carefully picking up the child seeing the small tears on the childs face. In the bassinet he saw a pacifier. Picking it up bring it to his child’s lips they began to suckle on it. It calmed the newborn down immediately. With his thumb he gently wiped the tears away from there face. “This all feels so surreal right now… You gave me the title of being your father... I wont let you down my little egg noodle.”

X-drake

 He couldn’t get there in time for the delivery. But he didn’t expect them to be born until another week from now. Drake was now a new father. He promised he would try and be the best father as he could be. But so far he felt like a failure for not being there when they were born. When he arrived and seen the newborn who appeared to be waking up seeing them do a stretch. He watch in amazement seeing his child for the first time, his heart rate beating rapidly. In a matter of mins Drake was laying on the couch as his child layed against his chest a small blanket placed on newborns back his hand rubbing there back. Drake seen the small hand and tiny fingers, his thumb caressing the top of there hand, then he felt the small grip of the child’s hand holding onto his finger. “I’m sorry I missed your big day… but I promise you from this point on I will never miss another one.” he softly spoke to the newborn

Sanji 

This man so was supportive during the whole process of his child being born. He knew for damn sure he will be there for his child and show them unconditional love. Sanji fell in love immediately as he held his child. He felt the tears come down he didn’t care he was just so over joyed they were here after waiting so long. Sanji placed a kiss on there forehead. He was looking forward to when the baby gotten old he would be able to make them different things to try for all the stages, but for now he wanted to make sure his partner got all the nuritent's to supply the best milk to his child. Sanji was prepared for this journey into fatherhood. “Happiness was born today  and you cannot buy this kind of happiness.” Nothing in this world could express how much this moment meant to him.

Zoro 

Zoro had experience with children. So when he was expecting father to be, he was shocked but after sometime he accepted he was going to be a father. He was sitting down on the chair holding his child in lap position. Zoro was more quiet because he would hear the little mumbles coming from his child who seemed to be a heavy sleeper already. It seemed like the child was like his little clone, the same green peach fuzz hair and how they seemed to sleep often. He knew already he was going to protect this child with his life and make sure they would be trained as they gotten older. If they needed something he would do his best to help them. “As your father, I will be your protector from anything that will try to harm you but I will also be your teacher and show you right from wrong.”

Tagging: @undercoverweeeb @fireflykaizoku @kristaline2dmensimp @simpforroses @starrybrujita @tsunderedoctor @kerokerogecko @p0chy @kirakirakill @vemuabhi @athenatakami

[jeriafterdark]

813 - The Reprise, Part 3.1/?

ZZH's mother, Zhang Xia, has made an official statement: warning for TW: suicide, cyberbullying. This is via Uncle Li's weibo.

Translation by Quellevous here - ENG - currently being translated as of Dec 3, 6:28AM EST

Source of Weibo post here

Google Translation -Zhang Xia, ZZH's Mother

#人民的公义# #Famous producer Li Xuezheng questioned the China Performing Arts Association's punishment of inferior artists program justice# The full text forwarded a text of a 36-year-old party member. "A voice from a mother, hello everyone! My name is Zhang Xia, the mother of actor Zhang Zhehan, and a 36-year party member. My son suffered a cherry blossom photo incident during a trip to Japan in March 2018 and suffered in August this year. After the 13th, the most powerful cyber violence in history has been unprecedented. I would like to talk about the impact and trauma that this incident has brought to my son and me. On August 13th, my son was still working in Shanghai. Before that, he had been vilified and attacked him for various reasons. It was unsightly, but after 813, it reached a peak, with overwhelming overwhelming verbal abuse, traitors, spies, Traitors, traitors, etc., under the storm of online public opinion, were blocked by the entire network in less than three days. Among them, Baidu entries were modified, history was tampered with, stories were arranged, human family members, family backgrounds were faked, and rumors were framed and abused. He even wrote the rumors about him into the test papers into the classroom, and even his name is a taboo word on all major social platforms...The dreams and achievements he has worked hard for more than ten years have not only been wiped out, Moreover, the entire network is one-sided black his manuscripts, positively, his once love for the party and the country are gone, and his works are also removed from the shelves. My son told me that he did not enter the Yasukuni Shrine, did not visit, and did not visit the shrine. The Internet information was false. He said that he was willing to accept the organization's investigation. I think that if a person’s character can be judged based on a few photos, then he still has many patriotic photos, honoring the country’s competition, and making a record of public welfare undertakings. Isn’t his positive, patriotic, dedicated, and hardworking side insufficient? To prove his positive energy, his patriotism? He was convicted by public opinion and sentenced on the Internet. Most of the accusations against him came from information that was not verified and confirmed on the Internet, and the conclusions given were not subject to necessary investigation and verification. Regarding the widespread dissemination of false information, we also There is no opportunity for clarification, and we are deeply powerless and sad about this. However, starting from the overall situation, in order not to cause trouble to the country, our mother and son have been suppressing the extreme pain in our hearts, insisting on not speaking out and not causing trouble to government departments. We believe that the party and the country will take facts as the basis after investigation and evidence collection. Based on the correct judgments and conclusions. But as a mother, I really can't accept that my son is stigmatized like this. He is only thirty years old! His future, career and prospects were destroyed by a few photos more than three years ago! Not only that, but he has to live in the cold-eyed insults of others! When he came home this time, he saw my first sentence: "Mom, I am ashamed, I am still making you worry when I am 30." I burst into tears, but he said, "Why are you crying? Isn't my health good?" His healthy optimism is the greatest comfort to me! But the little nephew he likes is only four years old, and he dare not face him, saying that his uncle is a bad person, and he keeps covering his face and dare not look at him. When the son saw this, he hid in the room and cried and shed tears... He is really a strong person at ordinary times, but at this moment he really broke down. I saw it as a mother, heartbroken, at that moment I seemed to hear the feeling of my heart being torn apart! I’m a mother, I brought him up, and the country The son grew up in a party member’s house. Both parents were party members (his father died of illness in 2016). His

grandfather was also a leading cadre of the judicial department. He was loyal to the party and dedicated to his work. He suffered a sudden heart attack due to overwork in his early years. The infarction fell on the job. My six sisters and brothers have four CCP members and one CPPCC member. My son’s generation has five adult children and three party members. They work for the party in various fields. Our whole family loves the party and the motherland! The son grew up in the warm embrace of the party. I have always taught him to love the party and the motherland, to pass on the fine qualities of the older generation, to teach him to be honest, kind, courageous, strong, hardworking, and his son is basically a positive education. He is not perfect, he has shortcomings, but He has no taint. Those who say that I am a Japanese mistress, my son is a Japanese mixed-race, I registered Yatairong (a small company that produces selfie sticks, and has nothing to do with Japan, because the losses have long been written off) are also tainted. Named Japanese companies, etc., all the Japanese elements imposed on us are deliberately slanderous and insulting us! For more than three months, we have lived in fear and trepidation, anger, pain, sadness, and helplessness. My son did not dare to go out, and I saw all people feel envy. I feel that it’s too painful to live so struggling and humiliating. , And even want to awaken people's kindness by ending their own lives. But my son has always comforted me, asking me to believe that the party believes in the country, and in turn educate me: You are still an old party member, we must believe that justice will be late, but we will never be absent! My son’s words woke me up and made me strong! We firmly believe that the party and the country will make correct judgments, clean up the roots for us, return the truth to the truth, and give us a way out for life and career. I would like to swear again: If my son goes to the ghost club, my whole family is willing to die! I guarantee that everything I say is true with my party spirit and humanity! Thank you everyone, and thank you Li Xuezheng for his adventurous speech! "

My thoughts: We were all really wondering what was happening with ZZH in these months weren't we? I'm afraid I didn't want to know what's really been happening.. it just breaks my heart how much they've all suffered. And his own nephew, even though he's only 4 years old, thinks his uncle, ZZH, is a bad person? And he cried over that? Goddd, knowing how much he loves children, he must've really hurt then. Please let there be justice for him and his family, thanks Uncle Li!

[ayamturd]

here│tommyinnit

summary: reunited once again, y/n comforts their brother when he needs them the most

warnings: angst to fluff, death, slight spoiler to dsmp

pairing: in-game platonic!tommy 

a/n: sad tommy lore that i was able to tie into ‘safe’ (first pt)

edit: i’m honestly wondering if i should try doing another part to finish off the recent lore with tommy 👀 - send asks if should :3

wc: (1.3k) - m.list

safe - pt one

Everything hurt until it suddenly didn’t. 

As if a wave of relief consumed his entirety, the pain became numb and every ache slowly washed away. He was floating, his body weightless and drifting in the endless void of darkness. The silence was soft, sound almost nonexistent while evading an empty ringing. When did I fall asleep? 

At the sudden realization, the memories over came him. Tommy panicked at the thought, remembering the last things that had happened to him. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see, fear overtaking him as he tried to yell or move but he could do anything. Nothing. 

Suddenly, he was falling. The feeling of a force dragging him down, gripping him till he couldn’t breathe set fear into him; he felt trapped like in the prison again for it was too dark, no one could hear him scream his heart out in his desperate cries for help, and despite the seemingly endless space, he was enclosed with no where to run. 

As the air picked up and he felt crushed under the heavy pressure above, Tommy anticipated the impact below and shrink into himself before striking the invisible ground. 

A light overwhelmed him and forced his eyes open. Blinking harshly to the immense brightness surrounding him, Tommy opened his eyes to the vast abyss as if he had just woken up. He glanced around him, confused, until a familiar voice spoke up.

“Oh Tommy.”

He froze, turning sharply to the sound. Standing across him was his older sibling, a sad smile adorning their face. They looked idyllic in the reflective white surrounding, standing, breathing, in front of him with their hands to their side. He noticed they were wearing the last thing he saw them, save for the blood, in during the war. Before their death. Scared and disoriented, Tommy started to tear up from the sight of them. 

“You’re not supposed to be here so soon.”

He let out a sob at that, loosing all sense in pride as he bounded forward to embrace them. Y/n anticipated it and wrapped their arms around him tight, pulling the boy’s head into their chest while he whimpered broken cries.

“It’s okay, it’s okay let it out.” He clung onto them firmly, refusing to break his grip like he was afraid they would disappear again. He wept and he wailed, for all the burden stacked against him had finally come undone, the build of expectations to save everyone and everything crashing all down at once. 

Y/n stroked the boy’s hair, Tommy bent down awkwardly to fit within their arms. They both couldn’t care for his height though as y/n held him securely, murmuring small words of reassurances until his cries slowly died down.

“I was all alone,” Tommy whispered, “I was trapped alone with him for so long.” His voiced cracked at the recollection, and Y/n gently hushed him.

“Shhh. I know, I know.”

“H—he… he said everyone left me. That no body cared or would come. He was right…” Y/n’s heart broke from Tommy’s words. He used to be so lively and eccentric, yet the years had worn him down despite being so young to the harshness of the world and the corrupt natures of greed and the evil. Y/n could do nothing but clutch him harder.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you then, but I’m here to hold you now. I’m here, Tommy. I’m here.” Their words only brought more tears, and Tommy continued to cry with deep, shuddered breathes between.

Eventually, he calmed himself to an extent, still clinging to their shirt like a small child hiding from the monsters that live in reality. Tommy buried himself deeper into the safety of y/n’s hold, now taking in their warmth for the fact that he could again. He sighed with content and relief, prompting y/n to feel they could speak their current thought. “You were so brave throughout it all, and you’ve made us so proud.”

Clearing his throat while sniffing slightly, Tommy couldn’t help asking the question and pulled away. “Who’s ‘us’?” 

Y/n chuckled in response and looked past Tommy.

“You didn’t think we’d leave you all on your own now, did you?” For the second time that day, Tommy’s eyes widened and he shifted to look behind him.

“Wilbur?”

There he stood, grinning slightly, puffy hair and all. His eyes were kind and held an old piece of himself again, a piece thought lost to the insanity of man with nothing to gain. “Hello Tommy.”

Unlike with y/n, Tommy couldn’t move, still gaping from the idea his brother was also truly there. His brother as himself nonetheless. Wilbur noted this and chose to walk forwards, positioning himself next to y/n’s side. 

“Wasn’t expecting you here early.” He yelped as y/n glared and smacked his right arm. Wilbur rubbed his side from the strike and whined about his feelings being hurt, however, his smile said otherwise.

“Oh you know I was only joking.” 

Turning back to address Tommy, Wilbur didn’t hesitate to pull the boy in a strong hug. He held his brother’s head into his shoulder crook, with an arm reaching around to steadily lock the boy in place. Tommy lifted his arms to reciprocate the gesture, yet paused with his arms hovering over Wilbur’s shoulders, still in shock. It was only until Wilbur briefly squeezed him that he came to his senses and embraced the tall man. 

They rocked so delicately from side to side, and Tommy almost teared up again at the nostalgic  emotions that overcame him. It had been too long since Tommy was last embraced to feel small and had experienced any physical affection from his older brothers at all. Breathing in while breathing out, Wilbur smelt clean yet with a hint of ash, the scent from his old trench coat reminding Tommy of a past that still remained despite residing in the empty limbo. 

“Didn’t know this is what you meant when saying ‘see you soon’,” Wilbur said, his slight humor muffled against the fabric of Tommy’s shirt. Tommy took a moment before answering.

“Neither did I.” Sensing his internal distraught, Wilbur stepped back to closely observe him. It was there that Wilbur finally noticed the slight bags beneath his eyes and the cloudy film over his pupils, Tommy almost unaware that Wilbur was assessing him as he continued to stare downwards. His brother looked ragged and awful, Wilbur noted, but the most scaring visible factor was how scared Tommy seemed. Even emotionally and physically tired, Wilbur saw how unconsciously tense he was once let go of.

“Tommy.” Tommy faintly nodded, yet his gaze remained fixed. Wilbur shook his shoulders, trying to break him of his trance.

“Tommy, look at me.” The commanding tone in Wilbur’s voice spooked him, and Tommy’s eyes moved around, frightened at the demand. Y/n, who had been standing mere steps away to give them some privacy, rushed towards the pair upon seeing Tommy’s panic. They rested a hand to Wilbur’s shoulder with the other against Tommy’s cheek. Immediately, he relaxed at the touch and bowed his head, eyes closed. 

“You’re alright now, okay? You’re safe.” Without looking at them, Tommy nodded regardless. As Wilbur laid a hand to Tommy’s closets arm, Tommy raised his own hands to grip each of his siblings’ wrists on him, taking in the contact between them. 

“I missed you,” he quietly admitted. “I’ve missed you both so much.” 

Wilbur and Y/n both looked to each other before focusing on Tommy again. 

“There was no need to, Toms, we were always there.” Tommy peered up at the words, slightly lost to their meaning. 

“I made a promise didn’t I? No matter if you couldn’t see us, I said I would be there for you, and we always were until the very end.”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 4

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x Reader Warnings: Injury, swearing, mentions of ptsd and drug use Length: 2k Notes: Hello my Freaky Darlings! I was watching The Martian while writing this and didn’t edit so bear with me and forgive errors!

Part One, Two, Three

Damn your stubborn pride. Damn it, and your swollen wrist, all to hell. Now that you were back at home, nursing your previously ignored injury, it was easy to forget why you had felt the need to work through the pain. Prime harvesting season was ending and all the old farmers in town were predicting an early frost. Knowing how this would destroy any unpicked apples, you had worked hard all day.

Frankie had grumbled at you once, an hour into the workday when he saw you emptying your half-full basket into one of the tractor-pulled bins. You didn't feel like explaining your stupid injury, or risk drawing his memory to when you eye-fucked him, so you just grumbled back an assurance that your total count would be the same.

He was slightly more attentive than usual, and you were worried he had read more into your glances than you had meant. Because, you still hated the guy, right? His... what was it again? Arrogance? Yes! That was it. 

Not wanting to encourage any more misconceptions, and still trying to hide your damn swollen wrist, you worked through your breaks and barely stopped for lunch.

Frankie had finally put his foot down when Jacquie had arrived with stew and biscuits for dinner, forcing you off the ladder and stashing it away to make sure you didn’t get the idea to head up again that day. 

You had successfully hidden your swollen wrist from him but knew that Jacquie had a much keener eye. So while you were remiss to leave the company of your friend you begged off dinner, citing exhaustion, and went home.

Now though, with a meal that paled in comparison to Jacquie’s cooking, and your bound wrist on ice, you wished you had stayed.

That is until you remember the moment when you had stared at your boss's lips for an inappropriately long time. With a groan, you decided to leave the dishes for tomorrow, just wanting to bury your head under your blankets and try to bury your embarrassment as well.

The sound of rain pelting against the window woke you a few short hours later. You would have just gone back to sleep but the memory of leaving a few windows open forced you out of bed. By the time you made it downstairs, the gentle rain had turned to a downpour of sleet and you could feel the cold air blowing through the house.

Your mind immediately went to the orchard. If this storm got any worse, a sizeable section of un-picked trees would be rendered worthless. Grabbing your boots and discarded coat off the floor, you rushed to your truck with freezing rain stinging your face. It wasn't until you were near the end of the driveway that you realized you hadn't closed any of the windows.

That wasn't what caused you to slam on the brakes, though. Frankie's truck had just turned down your driveway, fishtailing around the bend as he barely slowed down in his hurry. Seeing you at the last minute, he braked hard but the slush already accumulating on the ground caused him to skid. The impact wasn't hard but your smaller truck wouldn't be road-worthy any longer.

Wrenching your doors open and coming around the assess the damage Frankie was swearing while you were trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frankie called to you from across your crumpled hood.

"Me? ME?!" You countered, voice becoming shrill from panic and stress. "What the hell are YOU doing?!"

"Coming you help you and save your damn house from this storm!" He yelled back, giving a little jump and waving his arms out of frustration. It would have been comical under different circumstances. "This is gonna flood your fuckin' house!"

"Your orchard!" You were hollering now "This is going to ruin the rest of the apples!"

Jerking his head back Frankie looked at you with confusion, "What the hell are you worried about them for?"

His query forced you to stop and wonder that for yourself.

"I-" you stuttered, feeling a little silly "I don't know? Are you really going to argue with me though?! We've wasted enough time..."

Heaving a sigh, Frankie jerked his head towards his truck and growled, "Get in."

In a desperate bid to save as much of the fruit as possible, you and Frankie laid tarps down under as many trees as you could. Shaking the branches caused the ripened fruit to fall and you just prayed the rest would survive the sudden storm which had now turned to snow.

Working together you dragged each tarp towards the tractor and took turns driving the filled bins into the barn. It wasn’t a heated cab but still a nice respite from the blizzard.

By five a.m. you had done as much as possible and the adrenaline that had once been surging through the both of you had long faded. The snow had now slowed to a light drizzle but the ground was a slippery, muddy mess, as so were the both of you. Once Frankie noticed the shivers that wracked your body he ushered you into the barn and up the side stairs into his loft.

“It’s not much but it’s enough.” was his way of welcoming you into the space. It was cozy but lacking in luxuries or personal touches.

While Frankie got busy making tea and warming soup in the kitchen you explored the loft. It was one large room broken into three basic areas: his bed in one corner with a small bathroom just off the side, a kitchenette along the opposite wall, and a couch flanked by rocking chairs faced a fireplace at the end. Making your way over to the fireplace you intended on getting a fire going but were distracted by the photos decorating the mantel.

“You served?” Your voice came out sounding loud and strained, not at all the casual way you had intended. Frankie had been gruff with you but never unkind, however, seeing photos of him in uniform instantly raised your hackles. It was an automatic response from being reminded of your husband and you hated it.

Shaking the thought of Brad from your mind, you realized Frankie hadn’t answered and was just standing next to you, staring at the photos with a blank look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried” you spoke softly, not wanting to spook him from his reverie.

You had seen that far-off look on your husband’s face when he had been home between tours. It had always been best to stay quiet and out of sight when he had gotten like that.

Frankie took a sudden step in your direction. That movement, mixed with the current memories swirling in the forefront of your brain, caused you to reflexively throw your arms up to cover your face. Hot tea spilled out of the mug Frankie had been passing to you and immediately burned the skin on your hands and arm.

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, immediately, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Tears were spilling down your cheeks and you had instantly curled up, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Shhhhhh, no, nononono, shhhhhh” Frankie was frantically trying to reassure you while simultaneously trying to get close enough to assess how bad the damage to your skin was. He seemed to know that you were feeling unsafe so he made himself small and lowered himself to the floor. “That was completely my fault, right? Can I see?”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath you calmed yourself enough to see the warmth and worry in his eyes. Your heart immediately constricted for an entirely new reason when you noticed his posturing, how he had made himself smaller than you and had his hands out wide where you could see them, waiting for you to show him the severity of the burns.

This man had dealt with PTSD before. 

Nodding, you reached out both hands for Frankie to take and tried to swallow the embarrassment you felt from your little breakdown. That emotion was quickly forgotten, however, when Frankie finally got a look at you and noticed, for the first time, just how swollen your wrist was.

“What happened here?” he asked, sternly “Were you working all day like this?”

“It’s nothing,” you assured him, trying to pull your hands out of his firm but gentle grip, “just a little mishap from this morning. Don’t worry, though, I was able to work just fine.”

He let out of huff of frustration. “You think I’m worried about how many apples you picked? Jesus Christ, you must think I’m the biggest asshole around.”

“No,” you said quietly, still trying to calm down but also wanting to relieve the tension, “that title belonged to my husband. You,” you continued, ignoring the way his head snapped up to your face then back down to check your bare ring finger, “are just the biggest grump around and it’s intimidating.”

Frankie was silent again and watched his jaw tic as he digested this new information. He was still staring at your hands, cradled in his. The bright red hue of your skin must have jarred him from his thoughts because he quickly but carefully stood up, pulling you up with him, and ushered you towards the kitchen. As you sat on the counter with cold tap water flowing over your burning skin, Frankie flitted about searching for salves and gauze to protect the skin once it had been sufficiently cooled. You tried to reassure him that you would be fine but he wasn't hearing it.

He was talking now, hadn't stopped rambling, but of nothing consequential. You had a feeling there were a lot of secrets stored in his heart but knew you weren't in a position to be trusted with them. You found yourself wishing that you were. You hadn't realized you were nodding off, the strain of the past 24 hours finally catching up on you, until Frankie had called your name for the fourth time. He was, respectfully, keeping his distance not wanting to startle you again, but hovering close enough by to catch you if you slumped over in your doze.

"Come on," he murmured sleepily, "let me take you home. We're not getting any more work done here for a while so take a few days to rest."

"Oh Christ," you guffawed in a very unladylike manner, "how did I forget?"

"It looks worse in the light of day." Frankie chimed in, ruefully.

The two of you sat in the idling truck staring at the crumpled hood of your poor truck, which was inconveniently blocking your driveway.

"I'll call for a tow."

While he was on the phone he climbed out of the cab, assessing the damage and trying to figure out how much this was going to cost him. A few minutes later he made his way back into the warmth of his truck, "He won't be here till tomor-". Frankie let the sentence trail off once he noticed you'd fallen asleep, bundled up in the fleece jacket he had lent you. Sitting back in his seat, watching the sunrise dance across your face, Frank took a moment to think about everything that had transpired in such a short amount of time.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat, he figured he'd let you sleep for a few more minutes before making you wake and have to walk the rest of the way to your house.

"As I live and breath..."

Jacquie's jubilant voice woke the both of you with a start. It was evening and Frankie's truck had been idling in your driveway for nearly 8 hours with the two of you passed out cold in the cab. At some point, you had shifted and were resting against Frankie's chest, his body turned toward yours and his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Mark!" She continued to yell, "You owe me fifty bucks!"

PART FIVE 

[fruitcoops]

So I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen Euphoria BUT the two main actresses are Zendaya and Hunter Schafer. Hunter is a trans woman and plays a trans woman on the show. And a year or two ago, there was a video of fan that recognized Zendaya at the airport and talked to her and got so emotional because, the fan, was also trans. She talked to Zendaya about how much Hunter’s portrayal meant to her so Zendaya pulled her phone and FaceTimed Hunter so that the fan could talk to her. And the fan started crying and talked to Hunter and Zendaya even took a picture of the fan holding the phone up with Hunter on the screen. Anyways, I think it would so cute if Remus ran into a hockey fan and recognized him and the fan told him how much Sirius means to him and how much him being a gay hockey player inspired him and so Remus facetimes Sirius so he can talk to him :)

This is honestly one of my favorite asks of all time. Not only is the video super cute (watch it here if you like), the idea behind it is incredibly important. Representation matters, everyone. Sweater Weather credit belongs to @lumosinlove, but Kaden is mine!

The kid looked nervous, even among his group of friends who not-so-subtly nudged him in Remus’ direction. Remus waved and offered a slight smile; all five immediately began whispering. The kid still looked nervous.

“Ex—excuse me?” Remus looked up from his phone. The boy—he couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen—stood a few feet away with his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. “Um, hello.”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Uh, I’m Kaden. I-I play hockey?”

“What a coincidence, so do I,” Remus laughed, holding a hand out. “Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you.”

“I know.” Kaden flushed a bit as he shook it. “I mean, I know who you are, not that it’s nice to meet me—” He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Am I in your way?”

Kaden shook his head rapidly. “No, not at all. It’s just…you’re kind of a huge role model of mine. What you and Sirius did…” He swallowed and wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans; his voice sounded thick. “Sirius has been my hero ever since I started playing hockey as a kid, and when I realized I was gay I thought I was the only one, but then both of you came out and—” He cut himself off with a trembling breath. “And, yeah.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Remus touched his shoulder. “Do you need a second?”

“No, no, I’m good.” Kaden sniffled and looked up at him. “You changed my life. Seeing Sirius at All Stars, still kicking ass as an out gay guy, was a huge turning point for me. I just wanted to say thank you.”

Remus’ throat tightened a bit and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Is it okay if I give someone a call really quick? I think they would want to say hello to you.”

Kaden nodded, clearly a little confused as he opened up FaceTime and turned the volume up. It rang for a moment—there was a crackle as the call connected. “Hello?” Sirius lit up when he saw Remus. “Hey, there you are.”

“Oh my god,” Kaden whispered, covering his mouth with his hands. Remus heard several people gasp behind them. “Oh my god, no way.”

“Hey, baby, I found someone who you might want to meet.” Remus leaned down a bit so Kaden was in frame.

“Hi,” he managed as a tear dripped down his cheek. “Hi, I’m Kaden.”

“Hi, Kaden, I’m Sirius. Are you alright?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” Kaden took a few deep breaths, but his lower lip wobbled again and he swiped at his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Take your time, kiddo.”

Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Kaden leaned into him. “I don’t even know what to say,” he laughed around his tears. “Holy shit. I feel like I’m meeting a superhero.”

“I don’t think I have any superpowers yet, but that’s very kind of you.”

“Kaden plays hockey, too,” Remus added.

Interest lit in Sirius’ eyes. “Really? That’s so cool! What position?”

“Defense, and I’m the alternate goalie for my team.” Some of the tension melted out of his shoulders as he talked, but he was still shaking. “Also, I’m gay.”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled in a smile. “That’s awesome, Kaden.”

“I thought I was alone before you came out,” he continued as new tears welled up. “But when you kept playing and kept fighting and kept being the best even when everyone was being awful about it, that—” He broke off and took a couple breaths. “—that was everything. I’ve looked up to you forever and I thought I would have to quit playing if I wanted to be happy. You showed me that I can do both.”

“You can.” Sirius steadied the camera and looked straight into it. “Kaden, you can be anything you want to be, okay?”

Remus passed him a napkin to wipe his nose. “Okay.”

“You are not alone, buddy. There are so many people who want to see you succeed, whether that’s in hockey or whatever you choose to do. Be proud of who you are.”

Kaden nodded, pressing his hand back over his mouth for a moment. “God, this doesn’t feel real. This is the best day of my life.”

“This is in my top five, no doubt.”

“Anywhere near the Stanley Cup?” Kaden laughed as he wiped his tears away with his sleeve.

Sirius paused for a moment. “Honestly, I think they’re tied.”

“Order for Marianne?” the cashier called. A young girl from Kaden’s group of friends stepped up and grabbed both bags, hauling them off the counter. She cast a brief, awed look over her shoulder and craned her neck to see Sirius, who waved to her through the screen.

“Well, I don’t want to keep your friends waiting,” Sirius said with a wink. “It was an honor to meet you, Kaden. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you so much.” His voice cracked and cleared his throat. “So much. For everything.”

“Love you,” Remus said before he hung up the call and turned back to Kaden. “I’m proud of you, too. That was really brave.”

In lieu of a response, Kaden wrapped him in a tight hug. “Is this okay?” he asked, voice muffled in his coat.

“Absolutely.” Remus gave him a light squeeze; Kaden’s chin barely cleared his shoulder. “Thanks for saying hello. Hearing that means so much to both of us.”

One of Kaden’s friends edged forward, holding their phone tentatively. “Could I get a quick picture of you guys?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Remus said, taking a small step to the side so his arm laid over Kaden’s shoulders.

“Got it.” They lowered their camera and bit their lip. “Thank you again. Only a few of us play hockey, but what you did made a huge impact on all our lives.”

“You definitely made an impact on mine.” Remus waved as the five of them headed for the door. “See you around! Kick ass in your next game, okay?”

“You got it,” Kaden laughed, giving him a final look before the door swung shut.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus part 4

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

“I will grant them handsome features and beguiling voices,” the maiden whispered, her own voice dripping with honey “that all who great them will be blessed from the meeting.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Remus grinned smugly when Romulus was deposited back in in their room, their nanny shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Urghh.” Romulus whined as he hurled himself face first onto Remus’ bed, making his giggling brother bounce from the impact. “But it should have! It always does in the stories!”

What was the point of having a twin, Romulus wondered if they couldn’t even switch places to get him out of boring geography lessons?

Remus poked him until Romulus rolled over onto his side to pout at his brother.

“It’s because I’m better lookin’ than you.” Remus told him cheerfully.

Romulus thwacked him with a pillow. “We’re identical!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus grabbed a second pillow from the floor, “I’m still the cute one!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are to – oof!”

The pillow fight soon descended into a wrestling match, their shrieks and giggles echoing through the bed chamber.

Eventually they ran out of breath and Remus flopped back down on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Romulus collapsed on the floor amongst the fallen pillows, batted Remus’ foot away from his face and gazed up at the family portrait hanging above their fire place.

They were identical. The artist had taken care to draw the crown prince a little bigger than his brother, closer to the forefront of the picture, but even so; their hair, eyes, nose - everything was the same.

Romulus glanced up at his brother, who was currently digging snot out his nose with every sign of enjoyment. Romulus gagged. They were not the same -Remus was gross!  

Except.

Everyone said what a handsome young man Remus was growing up to be. How brightly his eyes sparkled.  How confidently he held himself, even as a child. They never said that stuff about Romulus.

Remus shone, even when he was being gross.

“Your voice is better.” Remus said suddenly, snapping Romulus out of his sulk.

“What?”

“Your voice.” The older twin lent over the bed, staring his brother in the eye “It’s nicer than mine, ‘specially when you sing.” Romulus beamed, showing off his gap toothed smile. Their parents had hired teachers to drill both boys on the lute and harpsicord, but Romulus’ talent for singing was all him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Remus smiled back at him. He’d lost a baby tooth that week too – one of his canines, giving him lopsided fangs. “And you’re way better at crying.”

“What! Well – your feet are stinker!”

“You’re worse at pranks!”

“Well you’re worse at fencing!”

“But l I’m the best at tickling!” declared Remus and leapt from the bed, pinning Romulus with his knee whilst his fingers attacked his brothers armpits.  The younger prince’s peals of laughter and cries for mercy were so loud nanny came rushing back to check on them, finding the future rulers of Notaleveale wrapped around each other on the floor, covered in dust and wearing matching smiles.

“I will grant them strength and creativity.” The mother smiled, she had a thousand eyes and all of them twinkled under the halls many candles “so that their rule will never be questioned.”

“Lord Venchi?”  Romulus asked.

The royal treasurer, normally one of the more composed members of his father council, was pacing the entrance hall alone, what little hair he had left sticking up in all directions as he tugged at it.

“Oh, Your Highness!” The he gasped when he caught sight of Romulus, “oh thank goodness! He-“

Romulus sighed. “What has my brother done now?”

Romulus had spent the morning on a rare visit into town, missing the days council meeting. It was completely unfair -  Romulus attended meetings almost daily, under Julius supervision, as part of his training to one day take over managing whichever aspect of the kingdom bored the future King Remus the most. They were mind numbingly dull sessions and it was only Julius’ steady glare that kept Romulus’ eyes open and his face attentive.

But today, visitors from the far south were attending. Which meant the session might actually be interesting. Which meant Remus got to go, and Romulus was immediately barred from entry. Instead, his father had asked him to represent the family at the ceremonial graduation of the latest batch of city watch recruits. So, instead of hearing tales from beyond the kingdoms borders, he had spent most of the day on a podium waving dispassionately at a crowd of braying onlookers.

It was always daunting, being around so many common folk. They lacked the decorum of the nobles at court. Whilst most seemed content to gape and sigh at him from a distance, there was always one who would shout out ‘my prince, look at me!’, ‘come here!’, ‘kiss my baby!’

Even with his fathers voice ringing in his ears – “no matter what you hear, stay by your guards side until you are back in the palace.” – Romulus had spent the day tense and unhappy, pinpricks of pain dancing in his skull. By the time he was allowed to speak he had quite forgotten his prepared speech and been forced to make up a quick poem on the spot. The crowd had seemed happy enough – the watch captain had tears in his eyes - but he knew neither Julius or his parents would be happy with his improvising once his guards had reported in.

He had hoped to get a few hours alone before the inevitable lecture, and were it anyone else he might have tried to sneak by without getting pulled into whatever chaos Remus had caused.

But Venchi was an old ally, one who had served his father wisely for years and who always took the time to compliment Romulus on his few measured contributions to the councils discussions, or to explain carefully any point he had missed.

He had also seen Remus at council. There shouldn’t have been anything left that the older prince could do to shock him to this extent.

“He-“ the old man looked like he couldn’t quite believe his own words, “He flipped the table.”

Romulus stared at him. The council table was ancient and enormous, made of a stone so old it’s real name has been lost. Moving it was impossible, the palace had practically been built around it.

“The Arkazeii  ambassador is being seen by a healer.” Venchi continued, “but I believe his foot Is broken, I-“

The side door behind them slammed open suddenly, crashing into the wall with enough force to make the hanging portraits shake. “I said.” Remus roared, a snarl on his handsome face, “Leave me alone!”

His voice was so forceful Romulus found he had taken three steps towards the main door before he stopped himself, face flushing. The order hadn’t been meant for him. Julius, who had clearly been chasing after the young crown prince, was now openly glaring down at Remus, two spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“Your highness I must insist-“

“Seriously?” Remus cackled, “You’re insisting?  Juju, honestly, I am not interested in what you have to say.” He barred his teeth at the King’s advisor, eyes wild,  “If my father wants me he can come get me himself but if not you can go and -oh.”

“Hello Remus.” Romulus sighed, giving the shortest bow he could get away with, “I hear your meeting went well.”

Remus eyes narrowed “Hello Romy, have fun getting your butt kissed in town?” he slug his arm around his brother’s neck, adopting a high pitched, sing song tone in apparent impression of the townsfolk “Oh Prince Romulus, you’re sooo clever and handsome and perfect. Won’t you pretty please sign an autograph and let me suck your di-“

“Your highness, please!” Venchi looked disgusted “There is no need for vulgarity.”

“Aww hey Vee! Wow, your hair is really going, you know the balder you get the more you look like my ballsack? Romy – I’m serious, picture him with two heads”  he held up his thumbs and index fingers and positioned them in front of the red-faced treasurer like a frame “I can’t be the only one that sees this.”

“You are.” Romulus snapped, shrugging his brothers arm off of his shoulders, “Did you really break the Arkazeii ambassadors foot?”

“The Arkazeii ambassador deserved it.” Remus snarled, good humour vanishing instantly. “They want to dig up Orenlla till it’s hollow. Use the rock to turn their sky black. Have you heard the stories outta that place? All the chickens are dying, ’s a travesty.”

“The chickens are- what? Just. Whatever. Not liking his trade ideas doesn’t mean you can hurt him!”

Remus eyes were always sparkling. Like a man on the brink of madness. “I can do whatever I want little brother.” He grinned at him with too many teeth, “you should try it sometime.”

“Your sons have all the makings of rulersss” the final fae smiled, her one golden eye glinting in the depth of her cloak. “My gift is for you. I give your children honestly and obedience.” She smiled sweetly, “May they bring you joy.”

“Your father is sick” Julius told him.

I know that Romulus thought but didn’t say. Watching the old man carefully.

They were in Julius practice room, at the top of the northmost turret, where Romulus had spent so much of his childhood.

“There is of course, still hope. And we have the finest healers, from every corner of the Kingdom.” Julius was pacing as he spoke, wringing his hands. It was profoundly odd, to see the old man so unsettled. But he had known Romulus’ father from when they were both boys. He loved him, as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and he loved the kingdom that he helped rule.

So Romulus found he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been with what Julius said next.

“Your brother cannot be allowed to take the throne.”

Since Romulus curse had been recognised, his parents had taken great pains to limit the brothers’ interactions, for both of their safety.

Remus could not keep a secret.

Remus was honest. He was honest at their mothers funeral when he’d announced to the mourners that she was ‘a bitch by anyone’s definition’ and honest later than evening when he’d sobbed into Romulus’ shoulder and cried that he would miss her.

He was honest when he announced to Romulus causally, over are rare shared meal, that he dreamed about killing him. “I’d do it with a morning star” he told him, slapping his spoon down onto the head of a roasted tomato and watching the red pulp fly about his plate. “Just like that.”

He was honest when he forced his way into Romulus’ room at night, shook him awake and told him, shaking, that the palace was haunted. That voices whispered to him from every corner - so loud that he couldn’t sleep.

He was honest when Romulus asked him, baffled, why are you telling me this. “I trust you.” Remus admitted, his voice thick, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just because he was honest, didn’t mean he was right.

Romulus gazed at Julius, his face carefully blank – a skill he had perfected over many council meetings.- and said “I don’t think you can order me to change our birth order.”

“No.” Julius smiled, and had the decency to look pained. “That’s not what I’m going to ask.”

In this room, Julius had tried every trick to strip Romulus of his curse. And when he failed, he’d dedicated himself to learning every possible way it could be exploited. In order to help protect him, of course.

“Sit there and listen to me until I finish.”

If Romulus didn’t hear an order in full, even if he could guess it, it could be ignored. As a child he’d sometimes escape his teachers simply by running away before they could give him the next task.

“The next time you lay eyes on your brother, kill him. Ensure no one can trace it back to you.”

Vague orders were still orders, and often more effective than those that were too direct. If he couldn’t prevent someone from seeing him, then he would have to kill the witness too in order to obey the instructions in full.

“Let no one know you did it. Tell no one of our conversation”

There was, by now, a long list of things Romulus was forbidden from talking about. It was one of Julius’ favourite orders to give.

“If anyone contradicts this order, ignore them.”

Contradictions were tricky. Normally the most recent order would take precedence, but often enough once the newer order had been completed, the old one would return.

“Do you understand me, Price Romulus?”

Romulus nodded and some of the tension left Julius’ shoulders.

He smiled at Romulus then, and lent over the bush back a strand of hair that had fallen across the young man’s face. He left his hand on Romulus cheek and gazed at him like he really was a kindly old mentor and Romulus his favoured pupil.

“This year, it will be the rise of King Romulus. You will be a just and fair ruler. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

As the second son of a King, Romulus future had never been certain.

His parents discussed it often. He should have become a commander in the army, or a leader of the church or married off to a neighbouring princess and become king in his own right. With all options too likely to lead to discovery however, it had been decided he would stay home, construct a reputation of studious detachment and become his brothers distant advisor.

Help him. Protect him.

Like Julius protected them.

Instead, Romulus ran away and became Roman.

Roman was loud and confident and sprouted poetry and song without hesitation. He basked in the attention from crowds and flirted  with every pretty face who crossed his path. He worked and earned for himself and argued back with anyone who disagreed with him and never sat still if he could help it. He kept Romulus and his memories of home buried so deep sometimes he forgot he’d ever had another name.

Even so, there had always been, at the back of his mind, the paranoia of this day. When he would be found. Recognised. Forced back to Romulus life.

He just didn’t think when it happened it would be so embarrassing.

They’d reached a fork in the road. The Marquis paused and whipped his head from side to side, presumably checking for witnesses although it looked more like he was trying to shake water free from his ears. He stepped in front on Roman.

“You.” He enunciated slowly and loudly “Turn left. Okay? Le – e -e f -t”

Roman stared at him.                                  

He had been kidnapped by an idiot.

With great deliberation he rested all his weight on one foot and turned left. And then kept turning, spinning in a circle a few times until the Marquis hissed “no!” and grabbed his arm.

And then dropped it immediately, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

“You. Just – follow me, alright? This way.”

Roman rolled his eye but did as he was told.  The man could have just told him in the beginning to follow him to wherever their destination was, and Roman would have done so. There was no need to give him a new instruction every few paces. But if the Marquis – what was his first name? Romulus must have known at some point – didn’t know the ins and outs of his curse then Roman wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

They continued on, the Marquis stopping every three feet to stare at him, or repeat some instruction, or glare at a crumpled map in his hands. Roman despaired. Romulus had had a crush on this man.

At first, Roman assumed he would lead him towards the Royal Palace and present his find to the Princess or to whatever other Notalevealian nobles were already here for the coronation. But instead he tugged him away from the wider streets, back down hill towards the main sprawl of the city.

“Where are you taking me, villain?” Roman asked after twenty minutes of marching “because I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that street lamp three times already.”

“Somewhere where your little friend won’t be able to help you.” the Marquis muttered, glaring at the lamp in question.

Roman felt his heart freeze. His friend?

He supposed it made sense. There was no conceivable way they could have been followed in the woods. Not without Patton or Virgil noticing. The Marquis must have spotted him in the market and followed from there, which means he would have at least seen Logan, perhaps the others too since he had been at the tavern…

Although why would a noble be at the Stevangie street market?

He tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, puffing his chest out and summoning his most haughty glare.

“Listen to me, lordling, if any harm should come to them I will personally-“

“Them?” The Marquis stumbled, map fluttering to the floor. When he spun to glare at Roman his eyes were enormous. “How many are there?”

Roman blinked, haughty glare ruined by his genuine confusion. “Erm,” he tried “lots?”

The Marquis audibly gulped, but before Roman could even attempt to interpret that the man’s face brightened, his gaze caught on something behind Roman. He smirked, some swagger returning to his step.

“No matter.” He said and grabbed Romans arm, dragging him towards a nondescript building in the centre of the street, unlocking the door and shoving the bard through.

It was a bath house. The back entrance, perhaps, but the damp in the air and smell of scented soap was unmistakable.

Roman tried, in his sleep-deprived, underfed, over-stressed state, to come up with a reasonable explanation for this.

He had nothing.

“Why-“

“Shut up” The Marquis snapped. “Walk that way.” He pushed Roman down a long corridor, past arched doorways through which he caught a glimpse of the bathhouse proper, and into a dusty looking stairwell. He had produced a candle from somewhere, but the dim light did very little to illuminate anything as they gingerly picked their way down.

When they finally reached the bottom floor Roman squinted to see boxes and crates of empty bottles– a storage room? But he had no time to take it all in before he was being dragged through another pair of doors. Two more rooms and another set of stairs later and the Marquis finally stopped.

The room he’d led them to was hot and humid. Sweat dripped down Romans nose after only a few seconds. At first he couldn’t work out what the noise that filled the room was, until his eyes adjusted enough to see the tubes running from the floor to ceiling.

“You’re lucky to see this.” The Marquis had to raise his voice over the rush of running water to be heard “This room is a modern miracle – the lifeblood of the city!”

Steveange’s heated bath houses were famous. So much so even Virgil had heard of them, and he seemed to take pride in knowing nothing about the outside world. Roman had assumed the city must have been built on hot springs or some other natural source, but this was something else.

“The furnace is below us.” The Marquis explained, as he propelled Roman towards the back wall. “The pipes bring water from the river, it’s heated and pumped up and out to every bathhouse in the city.”

He grinned with something like pride as he tapped one of the  pipes above Romans head, making it sing, “Arkazeii engineering and Orenllan iron. Lined with Orenllan copper of course…give me your jacket.”

“But. Notaleveale doesn’t trade it’s ores” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to remove the sweat from his eyes, as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Jacket was a generous term – it was a silken red thing, better suited to performances than travelling. But he enjoyed the way it billowed as he walked. The Marquis took it and without so much as a moments respect for the garment, ripped one of the sleeves clean off.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been away a long time.” the Marquis snarled, “you little fae touched traitor.”

Roman gaped at him, even as the man grabbed his right arm and began attempting to tie it to the nearest pipe.

“I used to look up to you” the Marquis continued, “you were everything a Prince should be. But you betrayed your father and put a curse of madness on your brother - all because of your own petty jealousy!”

He squeezed Romans wrist with enough force to leave bruises. And stepped back to admire his handywork. The silky material had no grip and it was painfully obvious the man was not used to getting his hand dirty. The resulting knot looked more like a bow. “You are no prince of mine.”

“Lucius.“ Roman knew he’d known his name. “That’s not true. That’s- that’s not even a clever story! Who came up with that?”

“Shut up.” Some of the panic from the journey had come back to Lucius’ eyes but it faded quickly “And don’t think you can scare me with my name, there is more iron in this room then anywhere else in the city.”

He grinned at Roman nastily. “Your little friends aren’t coming to save you.”

Roman stayed quiet, mind whirling. They thought Remus was cursed?

Well. He was. But not in the way Lucius seemed to believe.

They wouldn’t send a mad man to another kingdoms coronation would they? Had the seller actually been certain Remus was coming?

Tied up, exhausted and with a man who seemed to hate him glaring down, Roman started to giggle in giddy relief.

Lucius stepped back, looking unsettled, before reaching out, roughly grabbing Romans chin and shoving the remnants of his jacket into his mouth. “Stay here,” he told him, slowly and clearly “until I come back with your transport.”

He stood, taking the candle with him to the door. He paused for one moment before leaving, the flickering light illuminating a cruel smirk. “You had better hope I can arrange it before the furnaces come back on.” And he was gone.

Roman glanced above himself into the darkness, where his wrists were strapped tight to the currently cool metal. A rush of fear went through him, finally bringing him down from the giggling hysteria.

Alone In the dark, tried to think.

Roman was a bad friend. He lied to his companions as easy as breathing and took his own fears out on them.

Romulus was a bad prince. He had abandoned his kingdom and his subjects and allowed some sort of conspiracy to spring up in his wake.

But he was a good brother. Remus was alive. And he would stay that way.

After all, this afternoon he thought that Remus was here. That he would have to confront his past, escape the city, evade every member of the Notalevealian court and his  own friends and steal a horse.

Now all he had to do was get out of this basement and outwit one idiot who could barely tie knots and hadn’t even thought to pat him down to check for hidden daggers.

Easy-peasy he thought, his eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally overtook him.

Part 5

[herglowinggirl]

Hello, familiar anon here, I didn't ask the question about an SOK ending where Yun lives and gains redemption. I also wouldn't mind having my own tag. I haven't found any other evidence of Yun shipping Kyoshi and Rangi outside of "The Boy From Makapu". How does Kyoshi view Yun later in her life( up to the first year after "The Meeting", creating Kyoshi Island nearly 25 years later, the last years of her life)? Would Kyoshi ever mention or talk about Yun after the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi?

hello! and yes I have some thoughts on this and how it would impact the advice Kyoshi gave to Roku and Aang. this got long but I’d love to break down parts of it to write fic, which I think I will do and perhaps post before Kyoshi Fortnight. But I digress, it’s long enough that I have decided to use subtitles. If anything skip to the end about the advice she gave Roku and Aang I think it’s most relevant to what I want to say and also my favorite part.

what I talk about under the cut: the ways I believe yun’s death would impact kyoshi’s actions after tsok and what the advice she gave aang and roku actually means (my thoughts on “only justice will bring peace” means)

would kyoshi talk about yun during her lifetime?

Yes. First off, it would be impossible to avoid him in the political landscape, because it is mentioned that he passed lots of judgements and signed treaties, ect. Although Kyoshi has grown in her leadership style and it’s turned a little (a lot) anti-establishment, she would still need to deal with the fallout of Yun not being the Avatar, because there would be a need to re-sign treaties and settle disputes with people seeking to take advantage of others now that the Avatar has “changed” would have to be dealt with and in tandem, Yun’s legacy.

But also, in a duology that features grief, I find it a natural continuation of the narrative that Yun would be mourned. You don’t stop knowing or loving someone after they pass, and I feel like mourning all of Yun—the boy he was, where he came from, his legacy, the decisions he made, the impact he had on the people around him, even how he hurt people—is only natural and is slightly unavoidable. I think Kyoshi mourns all of her deceased loved ones. 

Just, like the concept of this: she’s always hated pai sho but now when she faces a board in her gut and in her throat things feel wrong because it reminds her of what Yun had to do to survive. A breeze smells like the flour and air Kelsang sent into her face the moments before everything changed. She collects pebbles that Lek would’ve liked. Rangi brings her fire lilies for an anniversary and she starts crying. She sings songs with Wong that were her parent’s favorites that coincidentally, Kelsang knew too.

community in grief and kyoshi’s relationships

He was Rangi’s friend, too. Auntie Mui and Hei-Ran are sure to mourn him in their own ways. In tSoK Kyoshi calls her team Avatar a group of contradictions and misfits and in his way, Yun was too. The false Avatar. What a title! 

A continuation of the concept: Rangi and Kyoshi remind each other of him every day for a while, swapping stories about him when it gets to be too much, making eye contact when they can hear his voice making light of something stupid an official has said. Hei-Ran makes her do drills she made Yun do. Auntie Mui makes his favorite dish on his birthday that they do not pass in silence, because then what would they be, that group of misfits, to forget another outcast? If they don’t mourn the boy from Yokoya who will mourn them, or who would’ve mourned them if they hadn’t been so lucky? Who will care for the beggars and orphans of the world if not the Avatar who was once one of them and her companions? In a way, the retribution and pain of it all is justice for the life that Kyoshi took. Like, there’s just so much to unpack in the way she says “Was I right about anything at all? What will they say about me? Avatar Kyoshi, who killed her friend because she couldn’t save him?” But I don’t think her guilt would silence her. 

That being said, Yun was fundamentally a victim of a system that failed him. The same one that failed Kyoshi. In another way, her actions are justice on a world that failed her and her best friend and the similarities they shared, and she’s able to take those actions because of the way that Yun impacted her, for better or for worse. So yes, I think during her lifetime, she would speak of Yun and who he was, not letting people forget the ways they (and she) failed him and how easily everyone wants to forget their failure. It brings me to the way she was so angry with the Earth Kingdom establishment for discarding him and trying to hide history away. I don’t think she’d ever do that, even if she did...uh, dispatch him.

kyoshi, immortality, and her role as an avatar

I’d like to turn to two passages:

Kyoshi: “The way you describe it, you’d have to decide what version of yourself you’d be stuck as, forever.”

Lao Ge: “Exactly! Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths.”

and

In the future, perhaps, she’d become finalized like carved stone. It would be easier to deal with the world then. She could only hope.

[...]

She still had to be careful not to lose her balance and fall. Kyoshi kept her eyes focused on her difficult path, sometimes stumbling but making sure to catch herself, taking one step at a time.

This isn’t directly related to what I think she would say, but more about how she lets her experiences, and therefore, her experiences and relationship with Yun, affect who she is. Here, F.C. Yee is detailing the person we see in her cameo in A:tLA. It’s a testament to her growth, yes, but also to how she lived so long. She’s allowed to grow now, while she’s young and still learning. But eventually Kyoshi’s growth will wane, leaving us with the iron woman we saw in A:tLA. 

Remember when I said I would call F.C. Yee a sap for the very last Kyoshi POV line? It’s the last sentence in my second excerpt, is that Kyoshi is allowing herself make mistakes. It’s pretty obviously a little deeper than the concept of walking down a slope: She became one of the most revered Avatars, we know how her story ends, if not lots of the in-betweens, but F.C. Yee tells us right here in that sentence. She changed and she learned. 

I think, however, that eventually she had to pick a place to stop in order to stop aging. If I had to pick a point where she became “immortal” I’d pick Rangi’s peaceful and timely death surrounded by her loved ones on Yokoya (not Kyoshi Island since I’m going to maintain that her A;tLA cameo was “immortal” Kyoshi) and I think Lao Ge killed her—or at least convinced her to let go.

further thoughts on her longevity: rangi’s role and future

Ok before anybody comes into my inbox like “um zey herglowinggirl I need you to know that actually Rangi also lived to 230 😌″ because I understand the sentiment it’s more like here’s what I’d like to discuss: Kyoshi can’t be immortal around Rangi because Rangi is in so many ways her catalyst for growth. First off, it would be completely out of character for Rangi to be immortal, because she’s constantly moving and being and feeling and judging and that changes her. Positive jing. And Lao Ge says it: “those who grow, live and die.” Rangi believes in the best and strives for the best, for perfection. For Kyoshi to freeze herself and become immortal, that would require picking an imperfect state. And as we know, Sei’naka women do not accept imperfection 😤. 

Although Rangi promises to always be by Kyoshi’s side, I think in the latter years of Kyoshi’s live it’s more like the impact that Rangi has had on her in that frozen state. That voice of Rangi’s is part of Kyoshi in those years. However, without Rangi, it is unlikely that Kyoshi will always or commonly choose to act on it. It’s stated multiple times throughout the novels that Rangi is Kyoshi’s center and that she doesn’t know who she’d be without Rangi, but I think the logical conclusion is immortal. With Rangi’s death she becomes her own center by stopping her growth; with Rangi’s death she just becomes...that stone she was talking about, where it does get easier to make decisions because you’re not striving to constantly change and grow. It’s almost a coping mechanism, if you will. Because Kyoshi is more than Rangi, can function without Rangi, it’s just not necessarily pretty.

lao ge’s role and future

Which brings me to my “in my personal version of canon Lao Ge kinda maybe killed Kyoshi” point. Rangi is in no way Kyoshi’s morality, but she is very much the idealistic ‘better’ half. With this catalyst of hope and change gone, I think back to the creation of the Dai Li—it very much sounds to me like something Jianzhu would do. Kyoshi, who had previously been the breakdown of negotiations, created a secret op police force? 

I think the moment Kyoshi started being the establishment, the moment she was the band-aid instead of the solution (much like Yun was, hint hint) Lao Ge would’ve paid her a visit. Either this or the creation of the Dai Li created a catalyst for perhaps an existential crisis, perhaps just being tired, perhaps simply knowing what is best...Kyoshi is, and always will be, a sworn criminal who cannot uphold the law, only her own judgements. She is both the law and the breaking and bending of it, and when she loses this balance when Rangi falls from her side and she becomes her own rock I think it would swing her away from her center, and this is where she becomes immortal. Eventually, it would become enough of an issue for people to intervene and tell her that her time as an Avatar is coming to an end. 

advice to future avatars

This is my favorite point and I’ll tie it back to Yun in just a second. I have posted about thinking about the impact of Yun’s death on Kyoshi and how that would’ve impacted her legacy and the advice she gave Roku and Aang before. Honestly what strikes me is how proud Kyoshi would be of Aang. The way that each Avatar must learn to forge their own way and become their own person and what their era needs, balancing themselves, is something so lovely. I think Kyoshi would’ve absolutely loved how Aang took the advice of his predecessors and said “no, I know what would be better for me,” and I think post-tSoK Kyoshi, who has learned she has to forge her own way and style as a leader, would love and be so proud of him for that. 

However, that doesn’t mean that her advice doesn’t have weight. I think mainly her “immortal” phase would perhaps have an impact on the way Yun impacts her advice. I think “only justice will bring peace” also speaks to the finality of death. Just like immortality, death keeps growth from happening. “only justice will bring peace” is also a nod to the way you must learn to cope with your actions and the way you feel about them. It’s also about Aang’s inner peace, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen mentioned. Everyone always wants to talk about what he should’ve done and how Kyoshi was right because she told Aang about her choice to let Chin die, but I think she actually guided him to the idea that you should be ok with yourself. To be confident in what you do and take up responsibility for your actions. Kyoshi wasn’t telling him murder was good. She was telling him she owned up to her actions and chose to make those decisions as an Avatar. To me, this finality speaks of growth after Yun’s death and the end of tSoK. She has grown and then frozen, but that means she has changed.

And although I don’t have an answer for what advice she might’ve given Roku, I think it’s a good way to interpret this. The only thing keeping Kyoshi from being honest about Yun’s death is the fact that Zoryu has “Yun” locked up. I think this is likely one of her biggest regrets, that she cannot be honest and responsible for something that weighs so heavily on her soul. This, I think, guides her advice. Only justice will bring peace. Now that I’ve thought it out, perhaps it wasn’t Lao Ge, and perhaps it was the idea that Yun had never been done justice and perhaps that turmoil never changed, which made her long-lived but not quite immortal. She cannot quite know the peace of death nor of life.

I think she must’ve told Roku that no matter what, he must accept the consequences of what he does. He’s not willing to loose that friendship and I think Kyoshi would’ve understood that, and the questions Roku would’ve had to pose himself as an Avatar. That is Kyoshi’s advice. Only justice, true justice in the form of accountability and self-actualization as a leader, will allow you to make good decisions. The acceptance of this: that whatever he does, he must be willing to accept it’s legacy, learn from it, and teach the next Avatar just as she let Yun’s death affect her leadership and what she taught. And I think that’s probably incredibly poetic, even if I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. 

[seacottons]

Find a Reason to Smile

pairing: choi san x reader

summary: you help an amnesiac named san find his way back home, and in return he helps you find a reason to always smile.

genre: sci-fi, dystopian au, horror, angst, language

words: 16.9k

warnings: excessive violence, blood, mental instability, mentions of smut.

The wind and rain felt like tiny little pricks against your skin and hair as you hastily rode back home on your yellow bicycle. Dark clouds blanketed the coastal town of yours, washing it an eerie, yet somewhat comforting darkness. Despite the gloomy weather, your mood was still beaming due to just wrapping up the last exam of your third year in university.

The streets were almost nearly vacant in this part of town, thankfully. You slowed down slightly whilst crossing roads and intersections, puddles of water splashing harshly against your shoes. Your hair clung onto your face, and a few strands flew into your mouth and eyes as you turned corner after corner. You flinched as the sound of thunder shook the ground underneath you. The street lamps and illuminated street signs flickered rapidly, and a flash of lightning followed shortly afterwards.

Your mind only registered what just occurred after a few seconds too late. A flash right in front of you blinded your sight, and a big lump of a body strewn on the wet cement crossed paths with your bicycle, causing you to fly and skid across the concrete a few feet away from the initial impact.

Hissing under your breath as pebbles dug into your broken flesh of your palms and knees, you glanced up and groaned, completely confused as to what made you lose your balance. You were positive there was nothing but empty space there a few seconds ago. The rain was heavy, but not enough to blind you. Your head throbbed, and you were sure bruises were already forming. 

Your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of a man lying beside your bike, clutching his side and emitting grunts of pain, his frame writhing. The man could make out a few words through the hazy fog of his mind,"Mist...okay..."

"Mister..are...okay?"

"Mister, are you okay?"

You scrambled up onto your feet, mind frazzled and bewildered,”I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t see you there! I- ..what were you doing lying down in the middle of the sidewalk. Oh my god, are you okay?” you blithered loudly, hands reaching down to grab onto the man’s own frail ones.

Your rambling seemed to make the man’s headache even worse, and you hastily helped him onto his feet. He was a few inches taller than you, a well built, lean frame adorned with dark clothing and a leather jacket. A striking patch of green decorated his ebony locks, which clung to his flushed face as his pained eyes bore into your own, “Where am I? Who are you?”

You visibly blanched upon hearing the male’s words, hesitant hands reaching up to clutch the air in front of you, panic soon welcoming itself into your eyes and voice, “I gave you amnesia..,” you clutched his wet, black leather jacket with desperate fists, brows knitting in distress, “Please don’t sue me! I have one more year left to graduate! I’ll help yo-“

You were thankful that no one was driving by to witness the scene, you on your wobbly legs, screaming desperately in a stranger’s face. Before you managed to finish your plead, the man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his frame collapsing onto your own jittery one. Yelping in fright, your hands flew to steady his body, which felt cold and deadweight in your arms. You rested your fingers against his jugular, your shoulders deflating in relief at the prominent heartbeat.

Spending the night of your last day of the semester was intended to be scheduled with partying, watching movies, going out with acquaintances, but fate decided to grant you a man who popped out of whatever that flash was, only to faint in your arms in broad daylight, feet away from your apartment complex, and rain drops creating frequent ripples in the puddles surrounding you two.

You were paranoid that somehow you’d be imprisoned or fined if you called the police for giving a stranger a possible concussion, so the next best thing you came up with is to take said stranger back to your apartment, wrapping him up in several towels and lying him down onto the couch. Droplets of rain cascaded down his high cheekbones, and onto your leather sofa, but that was the least of your concern at the moment. You debated whether or not to call your mother for help. She will certainly give you an earful if she found out you allowed a stranger into your own home.

As you were in the process of constructing a reasonable sounding text, a groan escaped the man’s mouth as he reached up to press the heel of his palm onto his forehead. You panicked at the sight, frame stiffening as the male sat up slowly, pausing to gaze at you in confusion. He tilted his head, eyes blinking in curiosity. His dark orbs studied your form, flickering around to examine his surroundings before turning back to you, “Hello?”

You offered an awkward smile, shrugging your shoulders and putting your phone down, “Uh.. hi. I’m (y/n). Are you feeling better, Mister? Do you remember anything?”

His dark eyes glanced around the room once again, before looking down at his wet attire and hands. He peered at his reflection from the mirror across from him and turned to you with a look of distress, “I don’t seem to recall anything other than when you crashed into me. By any chance, do I know you? Do you know who I am?”

There were a few moments in your life you were proud of. Few, meaning you can count them with one hand. This was not one of them. You found yourself crying in the middle of your apartment, with a complete stranger attempting to comfort and console you, when in fact he was the one who most likely needed it most. He smiled sheepishly, his attempt at consoling you only twinging a bit of hope in the pit of your stomach. He explained that it wasn’t logical for you to be the cause of his amnesia, due to the fact that you only managed to hurt his side as opposed to his head. You winced at the memory, nodding shamefully and offering him some ointment for the mark on his side, courteously left by the wheel of your bicycle. About half an hour of ceaseless reassurance from the man, you managed to regain your composure, asking him if he had some sort of identification.

To your disappointment, and his also, there was no source of information to identify him with. Pockets empty, no phone in sight either. You ran a hand through your hair, eyes downcast as you scrambled to think of plan b, only to catch sight of the the marking behind the man’s left ear. You raised a brow, leaning forward and tilting your head, startling the male from the sudden proximity,”You have a tattoo? San? Is that your name?”

There doesn’t seem to be any spark of recognition in the man’s eyes as you say the name, but he scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly,”I am honestly not too sure, but it’s safe to assume that it is? I’m sorry, I wish I could just remember one thing at least..”

You offered him a smile of pity, shaking your head to disagree with him,“That’s okay, San. I’m sure we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, you should change before you end up getting sick. I think my clothes will fit you somewhat. It’s the least I can do for crashing into you. Is that okay?”

“Ah, thank you,” you nodded at him to proceed,”I appreciate it. Do you mind if I stay here until the rain stops?”

You dug through numerous names of people named San on social media within your town, but you had no luck in finding a match. If your parents knew you kept a complete stranger in your home out of pity, they would’ve called you a lunatic.

He was very bashful about the offer to stay the night, denying it at first and telling you he’ll find his way somehow. Days later, you spotted him sleeping on one of the bus benches near your apartment as you made your way to the convenience store. He was reluctant at first, but finally agreed to stay for a short term with you.

You hadn’t even meant to but the poor guy had nowhere to go, no money on hand, and no memories whatsoever. What a predicament to be in.

Several days passed, and you’ve yet to tell your anyone of the incident that occurred that spring night.

It was no lie that over the course of several weeks of summer, the man had grown onto you. San was extremely humble, aiding you in any way he found possible. He took charge of cleaning, cooking, and even ironing your clothes on some days. The days when you had work, you would come home to find the apartment sparkling, and the smell of dinner wafting through the entirety of the small complex.

There were a few strange quirks you’ve noticed about him, though. For starters, he called the planet Earth, Utopia. You sat down for a good half hour over dinner one night, arguing back and forth regarding the name, but he just couldn’t explain why he thought that, and where that piece of information came from. He flung a pea at your nose as you pulled out several maps on your phone, proving your point, a pout resting on his features as he gave up his argument.

You were mildly paranoid that San was secretly a slimy alien disguised as a handsome, young man, from a different planet who somehow dropped down onto Earth, but you pushed that thought away several days later when he showed zero signs of being extra terrestrial. ( You forced him to sit down through reruns of alien related films, gauging and studying his reactions only to disprove your conclusion when he grimaced and complained he didn’t like the concept of aliens. )

However, he always seemed fascinated by the twinkling stars at night, occasionally asking if you’d like to sit and watch them, instead of movies, every now and then.

He enjoyed warm cups of tea as the cool breeze from outside fluttered into the apartment, the two of you pointing out which constellations you recognized.

—

“This is cute,try it on!" you threw a fuzzy, white sweater at San over the door of the changing room.

He took it off his head and inspected it, eyes blinking rapidly. He then threw it back,"It seems itchy."

"Come on! How about this?"

"The color is reminiscent of the time you threw up the leftover sushi.”

"Just say it’s an ugly shade of green and shut up," you grumbled, stomach flipping at the mere thought of the incident that occurred days prior. This wasn’t the first time he bought it up, only to laugh and tease you for it when you quickly shut him down.

San, albeit surprisingly being a playful and mischievous guy, was very modest and humble when it came to your shopping trips. Guilt would wash his features as he argued about you spending money on him for clothes and other necessities, often making excuses of why he didn’t want the items you chose for him, but you never missed the sparkle in his eyes as he placed the articles of clothing back on the racks.

He would pull items from your hands before you had the chance to purchase them for him, sometimes starting embarrassing scenes in various stores. When you have him a hard time, he would cling onto your arm, whining into your ear and attempt to pull you out of the store.

You did get kicked out of a plushie store that one time in which you accidentally kicked over one of the shelves while wrestling over a shiba inu plushie, tipping it over only slightly, but just enough for stacks of puppy plushies to fall into a heap on the floor.

He would often scold you when he finds the same item he’d been ogling laying innocently onto his makeshift bed in the tiny living room. San profusely apologized for being a nuisance to you and your wallet, and every time, you threatened to wrestle him down to take back his words.

“You said you wanted this one, and you’d name him Shiber. So give him a proper welcome to our home.”

He did ask to help him find a job, but you insisted you were fine with spending your money on him for the next month. Tuition and books were not a problem thanks to your scholarship, rent wasn’t too high, and you didn’t even own a car for you to spend money on gas. You also had several years of saving up from numerous jobs to help you put your mind at ease, but that did not stop the gnawing feeling of guilt that succumbed San every time you traded your money for something to give him.

You did take him to see a specialist, and he’d gone under several tests and examinations, but all the test results came back normal. There was no indication of head trauma, and he was very healthy for his age, which you two assumed to be in his early to mid twenties.

Nobody in town recognized him when you two had your weekly shopping trips, either.

He did promise to only spend two months with you and go about his way, if he managed to recover his memories. If not, he would land a job while you returned back to university for your senior year.

You never did tell him, but you left your bedroom door ajar ever so slightly to gaze at him in sympathy during the nights he woke up restless, silently staring out the window of the living room, arms clutching Shiber to his chest tightly for comfort. You knew he didn’t enjoy feeling lost and helpless, even if he never liked to admit it. His eyes held a heavy, silent sadness, one so deep that you think not even time will mend.

Learning to read and understand San came naturally and seamlessly. You caught every flicker of his eyes, every change in his tone, and every expression he makes. Every twitch of his lips did not go unnoticed by you.

He soon warmed up to your comforting presence, much like the summer weather.

"Ahhh! It burns!"

You fell in a tangled mess of sheets and limbs, startled by a screech. You were acutely aware of the pain blossoming onto your bottom as you landed ungracefully on your wooden floor. Beams of sunlight shone brightly in your room, welcoming the new day.

"San! Are you okay!?”

You piped hurriedly,  stumbling up to rush towards the male, tangled sheets clinging around your ankle, your hair a mess and eyes puffy from sleep.

You failed to notice a roll of toilet paper flying towards your head.

The impact startled you, heart leaping in your throat at the sudden attack, your adrenaline pumping through your veins as you raised your arms for defense.

It was San on the bathroom doorway, mouth red and puffy and eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Where the hell did you get this mouthwash? It's like I'm swishing fire in my mouth!" he cried, profusely rubbing at his mouth the back of his sleeve. He grumbled, turning around to lightly slap the bottle of green liquid on the bathroom countertop, fidgeting around and running his hands through his hair in exasperation.

"Fucking hell, San. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I nearly burned my tongue off, but thanks for asking!”

You dropped your head in your hands, contemplating your life choices for a few seconds before walking back to your bedroom to get an hour more of undisturbed sleep.

Summer was nearing an end, and the two of you fell into a simple routine. He would iron your work clothes the night before, wake up early to cook a light breakfast, and help you tidy up for your day.

You had joked one day, asking if his profession was a chef due to his great cooking skills.

“Maybe you’re secretly rich and hired me as your personal chef, but we argued one day, and you hit me so hard with a pan that I lost my braincells, and-“

You quickly stuffed his mouth with a loaf of bread to shush him up. He blinked, flabbergasted at the sudden intrusion, before hastily swiping a jam covered finger onto your cheek in retaliation.

Not only was he talented at cooking great food, but he was also amazing at styling hair.

He scoffed as a stubborn strand of your tresses curled up from the nearly perfect hairstyle he struggled to create. Licking his lips, he pressed them into a thin line as he leaned forward, gel slicked hands working meticulously to smoothen out your locks,”San, I work at a coffee shop, not at a fashion agency. Don’t you think this is a bit much?” your back ached from being stuck in the same position for nearly forty minutes.

He ignored your comment, scolding you for attempting to distract him, eyes trained onto redoing the intricate braid in your hair, adding several tiny diamond clips, and a golden ribbon lacing through your locks. You tilted your head at an angle, struggling to catch sight of his beautiful work in the mirror, your eyes practically twinkling in delight at the sight.

“San, you’re so talented! I should’ve hired you as my hairdresser months ago,” you marveled happily.

His heart leaped in his throat, much like the acrobats he’s seen in movies, whilst you crushed him into a tight hug. He stared down at the crown of your head, jaw slackening  and eyes growing wide at the first physical gesture of affection you’ve ever given him. His frame felt like it was doused in gasoline and lit on fire, but before he had the chance to ask himself why, he caught sight of his reflection. His ears were an embarrassing shade of pink, like the tiny cosmos he helped you grow on the balcony. He hoped you hadn’t noticed.

A gentle smile found itself onto his features as he raised a  respectful hand to the dip of your back, returning the hug fondly, his lids fluttering shut as he basks in the moment of having you cling onto him. This was better than hugging Shiber, he noted to himself.

“I’ll do it for as long as time allows it,” he curls a strand of your hair around his pointer finger, before delicately pinning it behind your ear, his gaze unfaltering as his eyes bore into your own.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, and you simpered at his bashful expression,”I’ll see you tonight, then. No need to cook anything, either. Today we’ll try out the new barbecue place across town, yeah?”   His eyes widened, your bright tone snapping him out of his dazed state, eyeing you in mild embarrassment for staring much too long than deemed necessary. He pulled away abruptly, hands busy attending to the brushes and combs across the counter, anything that was within his grasp really– the green patch of hair concealing his eyes from your sight,”Y-yeah. I’ll be ready when you come back home,” he responded, voice meek and delicate as he flashed you a small grin.

His tender smile was reminiscent of spring mornings: fresh, warm, and welcoming.

—

The oil sizzled as you gently laid down a slice of chicken onto the grill, your hands startling as tiny droplets of oil met the flesh of your hands. The steel tongs fell from your grip, mouth pulled back as you emit a hiss of pain, your other hand flying to rub away at the burning sensation.

Delicate hands wrapped around your own, the pads of his fingers rubbing soothing circles onto your skin, his eyes holding a weight of disappointment,”I told you, you’re supposed to do it gently, or else you’ll splash yourself with all that oil, dummy.”

“I was being gentle!” you shot back, only for your words to die down into a small whisper once you locked your eyes with his. Clearing your throat, you pulled your hands away from his hold, allowing your tresses to frame your face in hopes of concealing the blossoming pink of your cheeks. ”Alright, I’ll be more cautious next time,” you added quickly, picking at the side dishes with your chopsticks, sheepishly avoiding his teasing stare.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when exactly San’s gazes affected you the way they did now.

They left a soft, bubbly feeling inside the pit of your stomach, reminding you of his favorite powder scented laundry detergent he became very fond of.

“It cleans Shiber’s fur better than the lavender one.”

You didn’t know why you now noticed small quirks of his that you found attractive.

The way his skin dips as he smiles, displaying the cutest set of dimples you’ve ever set your eyes on. The way his eyes glimmer at the sight of a new episode of his favorite tv series. The way his voice rises an octave in excitement at a clear night sky, displaying twinkling diamonds over the town.

And also the tiny freckles that were beautifully paraded thanks to his v-neck shirts. The mole on his cheek. Or when he gnaws his bottom lip in concentration when either cooking or attempting to rid his shirts of a stubborn wrinkle.

The way the veins in his arms are more pronounced whilst he cooks up your favorite dish, or when his muscles ripple as he reaches up for something on the shelves.

And the sound of his contagious laugh as you proposed the idea of him becoming your roommate and helping him hunt for a job, despite having no known credentials or work experience as soon as you move to Seoul.

Initially, you didn’t think much of these small seeds of attraction you felt towards him. It wasn’t a crush. You were merely fond of his cute, clingy behavior.

You ignored them when they sprouted.

And now it seems they have blossomed, and you think there’s no denying it anymore, however you decided for the sake of the steady and well-built friendship, you’ll bury those feelings in a small, dark corner of your mind, tucked safe and away from prying eyes, specifically his.

“(Y/n)?”

You jumped in your seat, eyes widening and a ghost of a breath escaping your parted lips as you crashed back down to reality. San’s eyes were furrowed in concern at your silence, his hand hovering over the grill, tongs stretched and ready to latch onto the meat. You were quick to whip out an apology, offering him a sheepish grin,”Sorry, did you say something?”

He jabbed a thumb to the flat screen t.v, quickly changing the subject to save you from further embarrassment,”They’re talking about University of Seoul. Isn’t that the one you’re planning on transferring to next month?”

Physics Professors of US, Dr. Jung and assistant Dr. Kang, announce successful test in the relation between their theory of quantum physics and alternate reality; They say the world is ready to witness something grand.

You glanced at the long headline, eyes then trailing up to the news anchor, and then back to San. A black haired professor began an interview with the hosts over video call, but you soon tuned it out disinterestedly while spooning a few grains of rice and seasoned seaweed, only pausing mid-bite as you noticed the twinkling reflection of the lightbulbs in tear drops falling from San’s eyes as he stared silently at the screen.

“San? Are you okay?”

He quirked a brow in confusion, only then following your line of vision towards his side of the table. Peering down at the droplets, he raised dainty fingers to brush against his cheeks, examining the wetness as he pulled away, confusion decorating his features,“Oh? I’m crying?”

You settled your spoon down, eyes, filled to the brim with concern, roaming to study his features, and for the first time since you met him, you couldn’t read the expression on his face, couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. Your appetite suddenly dissipated, worry filling hunger’s place instead,”Is something the matter? You can tell me, you know?”

The lights in the restaurant flickered continuously, tv screens pixelating and distorting. Customers and the employees paused their ministrations to look around in confusion.

Your face glitched and pixelated, and his eyes widened at the sight.

Go back home!

As if watching a poorly captured, grainy video, he suddenly found himself in a pitch black room. He was aware he was standing above a fallen figure, even with the lack of light. A beam suddenly flashed down upon him, casting a dim ring of light around his frame. His pupils dilated and quivering at the sight of the pale visage void of any signs of life staring blankly at him from the bloody mess on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he realized the corpse he was staring down at was an exact replica of himself, face gaunt and frozen with terror stricken eyes.

Go back home, San. I’m so sorry.

The corpse’s ghostly face blurred and pixelated, before he felt lips press against his own, a giggle following shortly after. His breath caught in his throat as he gaped down at your smiling figure,”Of course, I’ll marry you, Sannie. Who else would I want to spend the rest of my life with?”

Home.

And then you vanished in fade of colors, your body dissipating with the breeze.

Everything came to a gentle still.

Suddenly, the sight of a fist gripping a gleaming syringe rushing towards his direction and painfully digging into his wrist—

He jumped, startled knees crashing into the underside of the table, the utensils clattering upon impact, making you also jolt in place, hands hastily reaching up to clamp onto your chest in surprise.

“San!”

Unbeknownst to him, something akin to severe horror flashed within his orbs for a millisecond, silent terror haunting the dark depths of his eyes as his gaze flickered from the tv screen to your face, the ambiance of the restaurant becoming nothing more than a faint, muted buzz in the background.

You were alarmed by the sudden rapid rise and fall of his chest, shallow breathing overlapping with the sounds of utensils clattering in the background.

“San? San, tell me what’s wrong.”

He took a moment to assess your expression, hesitantly shaking his head moments later, voice small, hands fidgeting with his chopsticks, before reaching up to grasp the sides of his head, suddenly unaware as to why his hands were trembling,”I don’t know? I don’t know why I’m crying, (y/n). I have a terrible migraine too.”

You were quick to send a glare at the nosy customers who took a sudden interest in you and your friend, eyes narrowing in triumph as they hastily averted their gazes.

“Do you think I’m having an allergic reaction to something?” you heard San mumble into his palm.

You weren’t sure how to answer him.

“Yeah, maybe.. it’s the radish?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen sheer, raw terror in one’s eyes like that before.

That look on his face will forever haunt you.

Weeks later, that night was buried away along with the other nights you’ve spent with San in your coastal town. He helped you pack your belongings, taping box after box as the two of you prepared to move inland into the city for your final year of university.

San surprised you two days after you moved into your new, spacious apartment with the announcement that he obtained a job at a local floral shop just down the street, owned by two friends, Jongho and Yunho. You blanched as soon as he informed you that he explained to them he had no idea of his identity and held no official documents, but had a knack for delicate and intricate styling of materials, ranging from flowers, to food, and hair. He even challenged them to a bouquet arrangement match.

“Is that seriously how you convinced them? No fingerprints or anything? No documents? How will they pay you? You can’t just go around telling people you lost your memories, San. What if someone takes advantage of you?” you chided gently, brows creasing as you worked at adjusting one of the paintings on the wall.

He feigned a pout, fingers reaching to brush a strand of hair from your eyes,”And here I thought you’ll say let’s go out to celebrate. Are you not proud of me? I’m getting paid in cash to avoid the documentation requirements, if that’s what’s bothering you. I told you I need to start helping with the bills,” he crossed his arms, back resting against the wall and head turned the other direction as he silently sulked.

You didn’t know if that was even legal, but you decided to brush it off at the sight of his crestfallen expression, your hands quickly finding their way to his own, grasping them and giving them a gentle squeeze,”Of course we’ll celebrate! Over drinks and barbecue!”

If the Sun had feelings, you were sure it would feel a massive amount of envy towards the male in front of you, with the way his face shined and glowed with every smile that reached his handsome features. Your heart will never become accustomed to the sunshine-like smile, no matter how many times he beams at you like that.

A month flew by as quickly as the leaves changed color during autumn, and soon, you two found yourselves constantly huddled underneath a large blanket, hands holding steaming mugs of tea while you watched new movies his co-workers  recommended him. You smiled fondly at his excited announcement of finding a new movie to share with you. Your heart swelled at the sound of his giggling throughout the film.

You confided to him after one particular movie regarding homesickness, suddenly finding yourself tearing up at the thought of your old town and apartment and how much you missed them.

He prodded your cheek in a playful manner, tapping away your tears with a tissue before running a soothing palm onto the back of your head,”You just have to find a reason to smile. It won’t fix the problem per say, but it’ll make the situation easier for you until you find a solution,” he mused,”Like me, for example! I don’t have a clue about who I was or am, or where I came from, but you’re the reason I still smile.”

Your brows rose up high at his words, and you couldn’t tell if the flush on your face was the result of crying anymore. You also felt ashamed all of a sudden, realizing your situation wasn’t nearly as bad as his,”I make you happy?”

“Of course you do,” he chuckled, hands patting his chest proudly,”I don’t have to be reason for you to smile, though. Maybe it can be that big star that twinkles every night out your window, or the smell of that nice bakery down the street.”

Your stomach fluttered.

“You make me smile more than anything and anyone, San.”

Some days, he’ll come home to find you face first in one of your heavy books, hand still gripping your pen while a monotonous voice from your laptop plays out throughout the kitchen. He chided your sleeping form as he picked you up, carrying you to your bedroom and huffing when you immediately snuggled into your sheets and pillows,”What will you ever do without me, dummy.”

The third month in, and you eventually became accustomed to the new environment, city, people, and university. It was a lot larger in comparison to your previous one, and it accommodated not only local students, but international ones as well. You were offered an internship with one of the university’s top leading music professors, and you contemplated accepting the offer or not for months. It worked out in your favor, though. San had a stable job now. You weren’t as worried about your finances as much as you were before, you were enjoying your last year of studies, your apartment was spacious enough to fit the both of you, and it wasn’t too far from your university either.

Your manifestations of a simple and happy life became reality, and there was no room left to complain.

There was one problem though.

You learned that San was not to be trusted with money. He either spent it on food or yourself. You begged, pleaded, and chided repeatedly that you really did not need every color of the sweater you liked at the shop, or the fancy teacup you saw at the market, but he insisted on buying them all,”But all these colors suit you! Besides, it’s getting too cold, you need to dress warmly!”

Saturday night he presented you with a glittering, amethyst necklace. You paled at the sight, cheeks stuffed with the remaining spoonfuls of dinner as you gazed from your plate, to the necklace, and then back to his face,”You didn’t. San, not again..” you shook your head.

At your words, he rolled his eyes, scoffing and skidding his chair as he stood up to walk towards you,“You have the audacity to complain? Have you forgotten you’ve bought all my clothes and kept me well fed over the summer?” he leaned over your frame, polite hands clasping the necklace around the column of your neck, grinning in satisfaction as it glimmered underneath the fluorescent lights,”You make it even more beautiful than it already is, (y/n).”

He gasped as you choked on the remnants of your food, hands hastily slapping your back in aid, loud voice bouncing against the walls of the apartment, scolding you for not being careful enough with your food.

One night, he came home pleading for you to visit the amusement park that opened in town. San knew that one certain look of his that made your resolve crumble into nothing but a heap of emptiness within a matter of seconds, and that jerk used it to his advantage every damn time. And it worked every damn time.  You were ashamed of how easily you fell for his tricks, but in most circumstances, it was worth it.

If one day, the Sun were to cease existing, it will be okay, because San’s smile is its greatest rival.

You swore San’s eyes twinkled brighter than any of the stars in the night sky. Happiness looked best on San. He had bits of cotton candy still stuck on his cupid’s bow, pockets filled to maximum capacity with tickets. You couldn’t help but emit a snort of amusement at his behavior as he dragged you from booth to booth, demanding you to a challenge every time.

He was the embodiment of happiness and sunshine, all things soft and delicate. He begged you to enter the photo booths with him, and then proceeded to have a bet on who can win the most prizes.

“I’m telling you, these games are all rigged. I just know it,” you grumbled angrily, harshly chomping down onto a handful of popcorn.

He peeked up, arms struggling to carry the amount of plushies and prizes he won. A green hat sat on his head comfortably, his eyes teasing as you placed a few pieces of popcorn into his gaping mouth,”Sorry, couldn’t hear you from all the plushies I’m holding. What did you say?”

“San, that makes absolutely no sense.”

“I know, you’re just fun to tease.”

He managed to win at nearly every game you played, and you gaped in disbelief as he won at the fishing game for the fifth time in a row. Crossing your arms, you turned around, hand sticking up to shush him as he called your name,”Rigged!”

You felt something cold and hard poke your cheek, and you turned to be met with a pouty rubber duck that was much too close for comfort. He repeated the action, along with a soft quack, and you attempted to swat his prize toy away from him, only for him to mimic the duck’s expression, your heart nearly falling to your feet at the sight,”Don’t be angry. I promise I’ll let you win next time.”

Having San work at a floral shop meant being gifted with a new flower every day.

He would beg you to stop writing in your notebook just to listen to him ramble on about what a certain flower meant, and so forth. Curse Jongho for getting him into this sort of thing, but you couldn’t deny the fact he appeared so endearing while blabbering passionately about why he thinks white roses aren’t meant to be related to death, or why cosmos deserve more love after Yunho trash talked them one day.

“Jongho, what are you doing?” San asked one day, arms placing the new shipment of glass vases down in the corner of the room. Yunho peeked up from tying a ribbon onto a pink bouquet, snickering at the sight of Jongho ripping petal after petal of a yellow flower.

“He wants to know if the girl that visits the shop every Friday likes him back,” Yunho teased, ducking as a piece of floral foam was thrown in his direction.

San leaned over Jongho’s shoulder to study the flower inquisitively, eyes wide and curious,”How do you determine that?” Jongho’s miffed expression soon was replaced with a stoic one as he explained to San how it works,”So, all I have to do is pluck them and whichever is the last one..”

Jongho nodded, elbowing the ebony haired male in the chest,”Are you thinking about the girl you live with?”

San’s flustered expression gave him away. He hid the white daisy behind his back defensively, shrugging his shoulders and announcing he has to get back to work. Jongho and Yunho shot knowing smiles at his retreating figure.

“She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not.”

Hiding behind a stack of boxes, San was finally at the last petal, his fingers hovering above it with widened eyes and parted lips,”She loves me.”

You were too engrossed in editing an audio file, that the sight of a gerbera daisy flying into your face startled you nearly to death. San laughed as you yelped in fright, hands immediately ripping the headphones from your ears, before repeatedly smacking his hip in anger,”Are you trying to give me a heart attack!” you hissed in frustration.

He placed the daisy behind your ear and leaned back up to examine his work,”So pretty.”

You didn’t know whether he was referring to the flower or yourself, but either way, that didn’t stop your ears from flaring up.

A month later, you managed to survive the exams, and your second to last semester came to an end. The university held a party a week later in celebration, just before winter holiday, and you asked San over dinner if he’d like to attend. He shyly denied it at first, saying he never learned how to dance, but you insisted you wouldn’t have to if it made him uncomfortable,”We can just relax and eat the food there. I promise it’ll be fun!”

You wore a well fitted, knee length black dress, and insisted on San wearing something formal as well, much to his displeasure. He reached a hand to readjust his tie for the umpteenth time that night, glowering at your snickering form,”Oh stop, you’ll mess it up. You look perfectly fine.”

“Fine? Is that all I get?” he prodded your cheek, playful lilt to his tone,”You should pay me, Prince San, for attending this party with you. I will only accept cash or kisses.”

His grin stretched further as you stumbled on your words, a faint scowl reaching your features as you thwacked him on the chest lightly,”Stop being embarrassing!”

You loved his teasing.

He knew you did, and curse him for taking every opportunity to make you a blushing, babbling mess, especially in public. The university’s courtyard couldn’t be recognized from the dangerous amount of people within the area, music blasting off in several directions, and drinks and food being served left and right.

San shot you a smile as he noticed the glimmering pendant resting on your collarbones,”Did you want to dance, (y/n)?”

You glanced at him curiously, head tilting back as you took a sip of your soda,”I thought you were too shy to dance in public?”

“That’s where you’re not wrong,” he chuckled, taking you by the wrist and behind one of the building’s corners. People still walked by, but there was a curtain of privacy that provided him with a subtle boost of confidence. He mimicked the princes in his favorite movies, head bowing and offering you his hand, to which you laughed and accepted. Your arms rested against his firm chest, lithe fingers curling onto his shoulders as his hands hesitantly found their way to rest onto the dip of your waist,”I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”

“I can’t believe we’re slow dancing to club music,” you couldn’t help but laugh, head thrown back in glee as San took stiff, unsure movements, a sheepish smile gracing his features as he ducked his head shyly, his earrings glimmering underneath the moonlight.

“It’s the only dance that seemed easy enough online,” he mumbled, unsure of his movements now that he held you in his arms,”I watched five videos.”

You flashed him a grin, pausing slightly to lean forward onto your toes, pressing a chaste kiss onto his cheek,”You’re doing so well. You never cease to impress me, San.”

You watched his jaw go slack, hands now hovering over your waist as he peers at you unsurely. For a split second, you were worried if you crossed the line, however, he released a chortle of amusement, leaning down to press his lips flush against your forehead,”And to you the same, dearest (y/n).”

The party was nearing an end, and you smiled fondly as San pouted beside you, watching someone take the last slice of chocolate cake on one the large tables. You took his hand, walking a few steps and ushering to another table across the courtyard,”That’s okay! I know another table with dessert. Maybe there’s—“

“San?”

The two of you paused, catching sight of a man only a few feet away, whose eyes were wide behind the pair of bronze rimmed spectacles. His shaggy, black tresses curled beautifully over his eyes, a mole prominent underneath one of his orbs. His mouth was ajar as he stared at the two of you, your interlocked hands, and then specifically onto you. You quirked a brow, noting how his eyes lingered a second too long onto your chest, making you shift uncomfortably beside San.

With long and quick strides, San was ripped from your embrace and into the other male’s chest as he crushed him into a hug.

San gazed at you pleadingly, seemingly uncomfortable with the sudden gesture of affection from the stranger, his arms glued to his sides, unsure whether or not he should return the hug,”Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since May! How can you just disappear into thin air without telling any of us?”

Your eyes widened at the information, and suddenly, the strange stares you two have gotten from your peers here made sense now. Ever since you walked into campus with San by your side, you’ve received curious and confused glances. And here you thought people were only shocked at how handsome the male that accompanied you was.

San could only stare in shock at the other male, his eyes searching an. searching for any flicker of familiarity, only for his shoulders to sag down as he found not a spark whatsoever,”You know me?” his voice was small and almost breathless.

The other male’s longing gaze morphed into a confused expression whilst he peels away from your friend, head tilting and brows furrowing in thought,”What do you mean? It’s me! Wooyoung. We’re childhood friends. You were a professor here. We worked on a project together before you ran away.”

You didn’t know whether to intervene or not, not knowing if it was your place to even speak on behalf of San. He peeked at you in question, and you nodded albeit your shocked state, understanding his silent question,”I’m sorry. I don’t recall any of that information. I’ve been living with (y/n) here. It seems as though I’ve lost all of my memories prior to meeting her.”

The black haired male’s eyes flickered between the two of you, and he points an accusing finger at San, a boisterous laugh falling from his plump lips, “Nice one. Don't tell me you ran away to be with your secret girlfriend, Sannie. Was the project too much pressure on you? You could’ve told me you know?”

When San’s confused expression didn’t change, Wooyoung’s bright expression faltered, smile falling into a concerned frown.

“Is it true? He doesn’t remember me?”

Your head perked up at the sudden attention that was now on you, a look of pity falling onto your features as you nodded silently,”Yes. I met San in Hwaseong months ago. I transferred and moved here recently. We’ve been searching for months about his identity. Was he not reported missing?”

Wooyoung blinked at your sudden question, shaking his head and emitting a sigh, gazing at his friend as he spoke,”No, he didn’t exactly go missing. He left a note and ran away, saying he didn’t want to be apart of the project we worked on any longer,” he grasped San’s limp hands, tugging him forward and cocking his head in another direction,”Come with me. I’ll prove it to you! Maybe your pictures will help spark some memory, yeah?”

The campus was fairly large, and walking in heels did not aid you in the slightest. Wooyoung looked back over his shoulder and smiled sheepishly, almost apologetically,”I still haven’t organized the office, so excuse the mess you’re about to see. My assistant was supposed to meet me last week to help tidy up, but..”

He flicked on the lights, and he ushered you to one of the three desks in the room. He grabbed onto a small picture frame, handing it to San to observe,”Do you know who this person is?” Wooyoung asked softly.

You peered over San’s shoulder, gaze catching sight of the three people in the picture. It was San, Wooyoung, and a shaggy haired, blonde man whose hair was tied into a small ponytail. Your eyes widened in recognition. These were Dr. Jung and Dr. Kang, the two professors from that one interview you watched that night.

San wordlessly peered at the picture, minute after minute, and he finally sighed moments later, placing the picture frame down while shaking his head in defeat,”No. He’s not familiar either.”

You rested a hand onto San’s shoulder sympathetically, whispering reassuring words underneath your breath. He turned his head to offer you a melancholic, but grateful, smile. Wooyoung cleared his throat, brows knitting in thought,”That’s Yeosang. Our partner,” he placed pointed to another frame, one showcasing the three men swimming at the beach,”We met him four years ago, San.”

An awkward silence fell upon the three of you, and moments later, San walked around the office, fingertips brushing against multiple papers with his name and handwriting scribbled onto them,”Choi San? That’s my full name?” he said almost breathlessly,”This is all my work?”

“The one and only, Choi San,” Wooyoung nodded grimly, arms crossing over his chest as he proceeded to sit down, running a hand through his dark locks,”Wait ‘til Yeosang hears about all of this,” he moaned into his hand, before peeking up and pursing his lips in thought,”You should come back to our apartment. Your stuff is still there. It’ll be a start at getting your old life back together again?”

Your brows knitted, shoulders tense in defense, and you opened your mouth to quip back an answer, only for San to beat you to it,”I’m already staying with..” he hung his head, troubled thoughts weighing him down before he glanced at you almost apologetically,”I mean, our plan was for me to move out, after I figure something out right? It was never supposed to be long-term.”

“You can have time to think about it and work things out,” Wooyoung piped in, gaze softening at the sight of your crestfallen expression.

You attempted to contain your tears, your eyes now glassy and red. You offered a shaky smile, hand squeezing San’s reassuringly,”I don’t mind if you stay with me, San. I love having you around,” you saw Wooyoung’s head perk up in amusement,”But that doesn’t mean I’ll hold you back from returning to your home.”

San couldn’t return the smile, his lips sloped in contemplation and confliction. He shook his head to rid himself of haunting thoughts. Moments of silence later, he sighed, looking back up to meet the hopeful gaze of his forgotten friend,”I’ll have my stuff ready after tomorrow.”

Your heart felt heavy in your chest as Wooyoung and San continued to speak, both exchanging information and addresses.

—

The news hurt you as much as it relieved you. San, Choi San, is back where he belongs, with people he knew and grew up with. And on top of that he was a Physics professor, too?

You were happy and beyond proud of his endurance, and also proud that you had helped him this far, however, a small part of yourself, a selfish part of yourself, clawed and lashed out at the thought of losing him, even as a roommate.

Your heart ached, and a dangerous sense of bitterness bled throughout your system.

"I’m so happy for you, San,” you offered a small smile, and although the sight of him left an ache in your heart, your truly attempted to mask the pain that was settling in your veins, leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth. “I’ll miss you. I’ll miss scolding you about tidying up your plushies, your pancakes in the morning– I.. our movies night, too. But it’s okay.. I’ll visit you, and you’ll visit me? Right? Even if we won’t live together anymore we can-“

Throughout the months he’s lived with you, you’ve failed to realize how well he’s learned to pick up on your demeanor and attitude. He reads you as easily as his favorite Harry Potter books.

“(Y/n). Stop.”

The sudden, sharp tone caused you to clamp your mouth shut.

He reached down to grip the mug of tea out of your trembling hands, his gaze then trailing up to brush against your cheek, frowning at the sight of your quivering bottom lip and misty eyes. Your teeth bit at the inside of your cheek harshly, determined to keep yourself contained.

Usually, at such proximity, you’ll turn into a fidgety, blushing mess, but the way he’s gazing tenderly down at you from your spot on the couch, you felt your heart splinter and crack in sadness. You tried your best to look at the brighter side of things, because you knew how selfish it was of you for wanting him to stay with you.

He wasn’t a stray animal that needed to be loved and protected.

He was a man with a life behind him, and denying him that would be the cruelest thing you can ever do to someone, especially one that had no idea of his past.

You were suddenly aware of his warm chest against your face, his hand carefully cradling your head ever so gently. His shirt darkened with wet patches of your tears, and it was the sight of them that made you realize you were crying. He held you as your walls broke down, brick by brick. Your small, shaky voice, muffled by his chest, still managed to shoot a wave of pain through his heart,”I don’t want you to leave me, San.”

“(Y/n),” he started, “I will never leave you. Just let me build my life back together, and after that, everything will turn back to normal.”

He caressed your messy hair, pressing faint kisses onto the crown of your head.

“We’ll get an even better apartment after you graduate and a cat named Byeol. Our balcony will be filled with all shades of cosmos, and I promise we’ll have enough space to build blanket forts for our movie nights. This is merely the beginning of it all, okay? Please don’t cry, or you’ll make me cry,” his voice was soft but reassuring, trembling in the end.

It’s funny, because here you always thought at the moment like this, when you finally found the answers San’s been looking for, that you will be the one comforting him, and not the other way around.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, words unable to leave your mouth as you pulled him in tighter, face buried against the freckled side of his neck as you nodded in silent agreement.

He held you close and tightly like this for the last two nights you had together, and every touch of his felt right against your frame.

So right, just like the last remaining puzzle piece left to finish a picture.

He held you in his arms the last night on the balcony facing the city, and he smiled at the sight of the twinkling diamonds in the night sky. He squeezes you tightly, breath against the crown of your head as he promises to always be with you as long as there are stars in the sky.

“Let’s find a reason to smile, yeah?”

—

Days passed without a word from San, and you grew increasingly upset. You struggled so hard to hold onto the promise he left you with, but with every missed call or ignored text, it became even harder than you had originally thought. You tried to make use of days of winter holiday by tidying up your apartment, a bitter frown etching your features when you pull something out from underneath the couch cushions or in a tight corner that belonged to San.

The day before Christmas, he finally called you, apologizing profusely and informing you that he was so busy with both Wooyoung and Yeosang, both of whom were credited for proving their claims of an alternate dimension existing beyond your world. San rambled over the phone about the project they wanted him to help with, and you weren’t sure if that was a good idea at the moment. You wanted him to prioritize healing first, but you didn’t want to crush his happiness, and you opted not mentioning it at all.

He asked if you can make it for the Christmas dinner the next day, and you were quick to agree.

You were huddled over the living room table, struggling to wrap a few gifts for him. After a few failed attempts, you made decent progress.

The next day, you scrambled to get ready, throwing on one of the glittery sweater dresses he had bought you and boots. After making yourself look presentable, you grabbed the gifts, locking your apartment and ushering for a taxi soon later.

The trip to Wooyoung and San’s apartment wasn’t too long. He lived a few blocks away from your home. With excited and shaky fingers, you rapped the door almost too quickly, bouncing on your feet almost nervously. Before you could process anything, your hands flew to wrap around the person behind the door, gifts long forgotten on the floor,”San! I missed you!”

When an unfamiliar tuft of blonde hair invaded your vision, you tilted your head up to meet the flushed gaze of the man you recognized from the picture in Wooyoung’s office. His spectacles dangled crookedly off his nose, eyes wide and blinking.

You scrambled back and profusely spat out apology after apology, the male only stuttering out a shy ‘It’s fine. San’s friend?’, causing you to nod in embarrassment. The blonde offered you a polite smile, hand extended politely in which you grasped after a moment of hesitation,”I’m Yeosang. I’d like to personally thank you for taking care of my friend for all these months. If there is any way Wooyoung and I can repay you, please don’t hesitate to let either of us know.”

You beamed at him, shaking your head gratefully, informing him there was no need for compensation. A familiar head of ebony and green peeked out from the noisy kitchen, and suddenly you were lifted in the air, crushed between a firm chest and strong arms. San’s familiar laugh filled the air as he swayed you from side to side, before dragging you towards the kitchen where Wooyoung was currently waging a war with the sizzling pan of oil and a batch of seasoned and breaded chicken. The black haired male shot you a wink in the midst of flipping a piece of chicken, only to squawk in protest as Yeosang came forth to steal a piece from the paper towel lined tray.

“You’re just saying that to impress, (y/n).”

“Watch yourself, Kang- before you end up getting fried next.”

The two bickered amongst themselves as you helped San with the drinks and other dishes he prepared with Wooyoung.

After eating, you exchanged gifts, and sat around for Wooyoung to tell the adventurous stories he shared with San as a kid. Throughout the whole ordeal, San’s eyes widened in surprise, orbs flickering from Wooyoung to Yeosang, a finger pointed to himself questioningly,”Did I really do that?”

You hadn’t realized how much you really missed San’s laughter. Studying the spacious living room, your eyes caught sight of a familiar patch of fur, chuckling to yourself at the sight of Shiber decorating the rocking chair as a cushion.

Another thing you noticed was that Yeosang’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he laughed along with the other two males. You brushed it off as a sign of reservedness. Not everyone was as boisterous as San and Wooyoung.

“No, that didn’t happen over summer break it happened during spring!” Wooyoung affirmed, jabbing his finger against Yeosang’s chest, who huffed in retaliation.

“You’re the one forgetting the whole story! Maybe I should tell it instead,” the blonde quipped smartly.

San could only emit a laugh as the two attempted to wrestle each other down instead, his gaze flickering over to you from across the room. You beamed back at him, nose scrunching up in delight at the sight of his smile.

His grin swiftly vanished, morphing into somewhat of a grimace, before his jaw slackened, the colors and shapes in the room distorting into large, blurred pixels while the lights of the apartment flickered rapidly.

“Let’s build a treehouse. It’ll be our secret hideout where we make missions and lock away the bad guys,” a young, voice bounced around the vast, empty white space. SAN’s eyes widened in confusion, eyes flickering left and right, before turning his frame around to catch sight of a very young Wooyoung, brows furrowed in determination whilst clutching a hammer,”Are you just gonna sit there and stare at me! Come on!” The boy ran off and vanished into thin air, San’s fingers reaching towards the boy in a desperate attempt to stop him.

Desperate fingernails dug into the flesh of his back, leaving behind pink lines in their wake. Low, guttural moans slipped past his lips at the sight of you writhing beneath him, your face flushed and contorted into one of bliss, your lips shaping his name with every movement of his frame. The sensation of having your muscles flutter and clench around him nearly drove him to the edge.

Why did you do it?

Pleasure was soon vanished as he found himself laying down in a dark room, two hands gripping the girth of his neck and squeezing with malicious intent, choked gasps emitting from his mouth, and a trail of saliva pooling down from the corner of his lips onto the concrete. The only light in the dark room, coming from behind him reflected the round, golden spectacles resting on the person’s face.

Why are you killing me?

The pressure on his neck vanished, and an ominous silence surrounded him in the dark room. He was acutely aware of something warm, red, and sticky gurgling out of his throat, coating his lips and spilling down his chin. His eyes caught sight of the gleaming edge of a knife as it was bought down repeatedly, slicing through his flesh as easily as softened butter. Pain did not blossom in the areas of impact. His half-lidded eyes gazed up, confusion pooling in them as tear drops fell onto his face from above, faint, broken laughter sounding out from his assailant.

“Why are you killing me!?”

His hand shot out to swipe at the hands on his shoulders, his eyes screwed shut tightly, wheezing for much needed air. Suddenly, he looked up to meet your stunned expression, hands recoiling from his touch,”San!? What’s wrong?”

Three pairs of eyes were trained on him, and all he could do was stare back at your panicked ones, silent tears streaming down his face as he attempted to pull your hands to his frame, softly apologizing for striking you,”I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-“

“Who’s killing you, San? What are you talking about?” you ignored his words, your brows knitting in worry as Yeosang exchanged a hard look with Wooyoung from behind you.

San’s lips parted momentarily, as if he was deep in thought. As quickly as they opened, he sealed them once more, his brows furrowing in disarray,”I.. I don’t know? No one? I don’t know what I’m saying?”

You pulled him into a tight hug, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as hesitant arms wrapped around your frame. You were suddenly taken back to that night at the barbecue restaurant. That look of terror on San was one you wished to never witness again, and for months you forgot about it. Something was definitely wrong.

“Did you remember something?” you tried, hands cupping his face, your thumbs working on wiping his tears away.

Frustration colored his features as he gently pried your hands off of his face, before burying his head into the palms of his hands,”No? I’m not sure? I can’t recall anything-“

“Has he had episodes like that before?”

You turned to meet the concerned gazes of his friends. Nodding sorrowfully, you sat besides San, arms pulling into your embrace,”This is the second time. Do you know what’s happening?”

Wooyoung shook his head grimly, walking over to brush San’s hair out from his eyes,”No idea. He.. has episodes like that in his sleep, I’ve noticed. And when I wake him up to calm him down, he immediately forgets what made him yell like that.”

“San, maybe we should go see a—“

“No,” came a swift quip from Yeosang. Stunned, you peered back at him in confusion, mouth hanging open at the iciness lingering in his tone,”I know a friend who can help. Wooyoung and I have already discussed this. He’ll be seeing Dr. Song in a few days.”

You could only nod reluctantly at the answer, your concerned gaze falling onto San as Wooyoung helped him up to get a glass of water.

The night passed much too quickly for your liking, and you found yourself standing at the doorway of Wooyoung and San’s apartment, coat in tow, eyes shining with unshed tears as you forced a wobbly smile onto your features,”Will you be alright?”

San’s eyes softened at the sight, dainty fingers reaching to brush the tears away before they stained your cheeks,”Yes, I will. I promise. I’m sorry for what happened today,” he smiled apologetically, “Hopefully, next time it won’t happen, and I’ll even show you my baby pictures and photo albums from when I was a kid. Would you like that?.”

You nodded, despite the heavy lump in your throat, squeezing him one last time. A certain blonde cleared his throat behind San, and the two of you pulled apart to gaze at Yeosang, who was currently tossing his car keys repeatedly in the air,”Need a ride, (y/n)?”

You said your goodbyes, bidding San a farewell with a quick kiss onto his cheek, arms squeezing him tightly.

Yeosang’s car smelt of new leather and cologne. The ride was comfortable, despite him being a mere acquaintance to you,”So, (y/n).. are you and San, y’know?” It took a few seconds for you to process his words, your brows furrowed in defense as he scrambled to deny his claim, but he hadn’t missed the way your voice raised an octave. He hummed, lips pursing in contemplation, one hand resting on the steering wheel whilst the other fiddles against his mouth, clearly deep in thought,”Oh, that’s a relief. Wooyoung didn’t know how to tell you this, but before San’s disappearance, he was seeing someone. She’s.. currently out of town, visiting family for the holiday.”

In middle school, during a soccer match, one of the opponents kicked the ball, accidentally striking your gut. The information that slipped past Yeosang’s lips left the same breathless, painful feeling in your chest.

Suddenly, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears became much louder than the muffled noises of the car’s engine and tires. A breathless ‘Oh’ slipped past your parted lips, voice wavering and hard.

Yeosang casted you a look of sympathy, his hands tightening around the steering wheel, silently sucking against his teeth before breaking out into a sigh,”I’m sorry, (y/n). I thought it would be best to let you know now.”

—

San did not keep his promise. Your texts were always met with apologies and excuses, even after the new semester began. He couldn’t meet in person, and every time you paid a visit to Wooyoung’s office, you were either met with him or Yeosang, explaining that San was too busy catching up on the large project he missed out on for several months.

A month had passed and the messages became even more scarce.

You attempted to visit him at his apartment on the weekends, or whenever you didn’t have as much studies to catch up on, only for a tired Wooyoung to open the door, explaining that San wasn’t home, and probably either at the university library or the office. Today was no different as a sleepy eyed, disheveled Wooyoung leaned against the door, dressed in a loose, sleeveless top and sweats. If you weren’t so annoyed, you’d compliment how cute he looks, a striking difference from the usual ironed dress shirts and slacks he normally adorned at campus.

He invited you in, offering to make a mug of coffee while you waited in the living room. San wasn’t here, and either due to pity or friendliness, Wooyoung offered to listen to you rant about your mutual friend. He set two steaming mugs of coffee down onto the tiny table, a packet of cigarettes and a lighter following suit. Lighting a stick, he bought it up to his lips, inhaling the smoke, before tilting his head back and slowly puffing out.

You didn’t take him to be a smoker. When he offered you one, you politely denied, hands tucking the mug of coffee closer to your frame, the warmth of the ceramic providing you some level of comfort,”San’s been busy, y’know? You should cut him some slack.”

He took a small sip of his coffee, before dragging another puff of smoke. Your eyes narrowed slightly at the subtle hints of accusation tinting his words,”I was never one to deny that, Wooyoung,” you spoke back, voice firm, “I know he is, but it wouldn’t kill him to acknowledge me every now and then. I haven’t seen since Christmas.”  A sudden veil of aloofness washed over Wooyoung’s features as he crossed a leg over the other, eyes half lidded whilst gazing unamused at you. You were taken aback with the sudden change of atmosphere, your brows furrowing as his shoulders shook with bitter laughter,”(Y/n), don’t you see why he’s been avoiding you?” he tsked, tapping away at his cigarette and watching as the ashes crumbled into the ashtray,”How would he flat out tell you he’s making amends to repair his relationship with the woman that loves him? He couldn’t bear to weigh that news onto you. Not after everything you’ve done for him. His conscious is eating away at his very being.”

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion,”Why is it that you seem to think I’m trying to get in the way of his relationship? The one he’s never mentioned in the first place, might I add. All I’m asking is for time with my friend. You’re the one who seems to get it twisted.”

He chuckled, leaning forward on one knee, pointing the lit end of the cigar in your direction,”Are you calling me a liar?” his hand cradled your knee, frame leaning closer to you as he tilts his head to the left to blow out the smoke, eyes never leaving your own,”Y’know, I won’t mind if you came here to visit me. I’ll make all the time in the world for you, sweetheart.”

Scoffing, you set the mug of coffee down, so harshly, the liquid swishes around the rim,”You sound so-“

Before you could make your way up from the couch, he called your name, frame turning around to showcase the screen of his phone, which read a familiar name.

Kim Hongjoong.

Your eyes bore into his own amused ones,”My internship mentor? What are you insinuating?” you spat, arms crossing over your chest defensively.

He tutted, putting out his cigarette in your abandoned mug of coffee before standing up to hover over your frame, his fingers propping your chin up to gaze into your orbs. You felt his breath against your face as he whispered, words venomous and laced with poison, but tone soft and gentle,”You seem to forget I am a professor, don’t you? I have connections. I asked you nicely to stop disrupting my and San’s work. He doesn’t need any more distractions than he already has. I will take it upon myself to not only have your internship revoked, but also expelled from the university, hm?”

Swatting his hand away, you shoved him back with a glower,”What the hell is wrong with you?” he caught his balance, a laugh of amusement ringing from his chest at your abrasiveness. You did not find this situation amusing in the slightest,”You’re sick.”

“Don’t test me, (Y/n),” he curled a finger around your locks, lips quirking up into a fond smile,”Be a good girl, mind your business, and maybe I’ll consider taking you out. You can forget San. He’s already taken.”

You purposely slammed the door shut on your way out, eyes burning with rage.

Later that day, you found yourself mulling over Wooyoung’s words, hands gripping the grocery cart, knuckles white and crescents left on your skin. Bringing up a fist, you harshly rubbed at your misty eyes with the sleeve of your coat. You ignored the squabbling of an elderly woman as you accidentally bumped into her while walking out with your grocery bags.

Walking down the street not too far from your apartment, a pang or hurt shot through you as your eyes made contact with Jongho, San’s previous employer, who was standing on a ladder, watering the flower baskets hung in front of his shop. He gave you a sympathetic smile as you passed by, pinning a flower behind your ear and reaching up to pinch your cheek,”My flowers need more sunshine, so is it okay if they see your smile?”

You two spoke for over fifteen minutes, only for him to flash you an apologetic smile as a few customers walked in the store,”You can stop by anytime if you’re ever feeling lonely. Yunho and I would love the company.”

Continuing your path towards home, your eyes caught a flash of movement in an alleyway, further up by the parked cars in front of your apartment complex. The people walking by hadn’t seemed to notice the movement, some busy on their phones, whilst others laughing along with their partners.

Maybe I’m seeing things from all the crying and tears.

You checked your phone for any notifications, only for disappointment to wash over your features at the lack of any. That same morning, in a fit of rage and overwhelming emotions, you bombarded San with text after text of how disappointed you felt, at how you didn’t care if he was with someone else, and how you just wanted to have your friend back, and how much a prick you think Wooyoung is.

You always imagined how it would be like to help San find his way back into his old life again, but this was far from how you pictured it to be in your mind.

You hastily changed into a pair of sweats and t-shirt after putting away all of the groceries, the tv playing in the background to fill the deafening silence that became apparent ever since San left.

While adding a new load of laundry into the machine, the lights in your apartment flickered rapidly, your ministrations ceasing as you looked up in confusion. It wasn’t raining. The bulb above you shattered, and you jumped in fright, hands frantically brushing the glass out of your hair.

A loud knock on your door startled you, and your eyes widened in hope, hands faltering and laundry suddenly forgotten.

San?

Your first mistake was assuming the person was San.

Your second mistake was not checking through the peephole.

Your third mistake was leaving your phone in your room.

The door merely opened a few inches, when suddenly the  flimsy security chain broke upon the sudden thrust from the other side of the door. The doorknob dug into the adjacent wall, leaving an ugly dent in its place whilst three figures clad in black shoved their way into your home.

The tallest amongst the three, a redhead, shut the door hastily, while one man with striking black eyes and dark hair walked past you, his other friend striking you down and pinning onto the floor face first. You struggled in his tight grip, heart thumping with adrenaline and shock,”Get off me!”

Throwing your head back, you heard a thump and a faint hiss, your assailant’s grip loosening only slightly, but enough for you to roll around to face him. One hand was gripping his jaw whilst the other held you by the neck against the floor, his eyes burning with fury and malice. The scowl on his features soon withered away into a look of surprise, and your expression seemed to mirror his own. The pressure on your neck was lifted, and the tallest of the three, the redhead, paused, eyes wide once taking note of your face,”Is that (y/n)?”

His voice was deep and unfamiliar.

“Professor Hongjoong!?” you cried in disbelief as you recognized the man above you, anger evident in your voice as you shoved his chest with your palms,”Who do you think you are barging into my home like this, you asshole!?”

The redhead helped your professor up, looking back at you with a blank expression as he leaned down to whisper in Hongjoong’s ear,”Do you really think she’s working with him?”

“I can hear you,” you quipped, stepping forward and jabbing a finger in the redhead’s chest, your head tilting up to glower menacingly at him, lips pulled back into a scornful scowl,”And how do you know my name! And you–“ you grabbed a fistful of Hongjoong’s cloak, pulling him down to your eye level,”Explain all of this before I call the cops for trespassing my home. I don’t give a shit if you’re my employer.” The redhead startled at your sudden act of aggression, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“Hongjoong! He’s not here!” a voice called from behind you. Your head turned to see the black haired male walk out from the hallway, stress painting his features. He froze mid-step, eyes widening as he gazed at you from his step, before turning to Hongjoong questioningly.

You didn’t know these two, so why were they so shocked at your mere presence?

“(Y/n), where is San?” Hongjoong gently pried your hands off his shirt, the black haired male eyeing the wrinkles they left behind. Your brow twitched in annoyance.

“Really?” you mused,”You came barging into my apartment, unannounced, just for San? Why don’t you ask Wooyoung?” you seethed in annoyance, stepping behind a few steps to make space between yourself and the men.

Hongjoong peered behind you towards the man, distraught eyes holding a battle of conflict,”Seonghwa, are you sure you felt his aura here?”

“This is the only place, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa’s voice was firm, his eyes narrowing and hardening afterwards,”She’s lying.”

You gaped, turning back to your mentor,”What reason would I have to lie!? He doesn’t even live here anymore.”

“He moved?”

“Yes. With Wooyoung. You know that already. You’re friends with him,” he quirked a brow at your sassy reply.

“Not with that Wooyoung,” ducking his head, he removed the black fedora and pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes flickering back up at you, studying your features meticulously,”Are you working with Wooyoung?”

“What!? I’m your inter- what is this all about?” furrowing your brows, you crossed your arms, patience flying out the door faster than you can blink,”Why would I work for that prick?”

“I like Earth’s (y/n),” the redhead snickered behind Hongjoong, earning him a sharp glare from Seonghwa.

Your eyes suddenly widened in thought.

“(Y/n), why does this map say Earth? It should be Utopia.”

Your mouth parted open, voice hesitant and drawing out the words unsurely and slowly,”Are you from Utopia?”

The three men gaped at you, all falling silent.

“I told you she’s working with him,” declared Seonghwa, reaching down into his cloak for what you can only perceive to be a weapon.

Hongjoong was quick to throw an arm out, halting the older’s actions. Your frame went rigged, shoulders tensing in defense and breath becoming shallow. Hongjoong studied you warily, choosing his words carefully, his ashy brown hair falling into his line of sight as he spoke,”How do you know that?”

“San had once mentioned it to me.. months ago,” you pondered quietly, mostly to yourself, as if trying to wrack your brain for other pieces of information. Your eyes narrowed and zeroed in one the three men, in particular Seonghwa, whose shoulders deflated in relief at your words,”Do you know why he lost his memories? He’s been having these episodes- and he yells, but-”

Hongjoong’s expression turned grim, your words resonating a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach,”It’s a long story. We don’t have much time, so-“

“I’ll help you in any way I can if you would just explain all of this to me,” you breathed out, stepping closer to him with a frown on your visage.

Seonghwa sighed, mumbling something into Hongjoong’s ear, before crossing his arms and leaning against the wooden door, brows knitted and eyelids fluttered shut.

Hongjoong sat you down, contemplating on how to start off. Testing the waters carefully, he began to explain how every human on Earth has a counterpart in another dimension named Utopia.

“So, there’s another Hongjoong- Earth’s Hongjoong, and he’s my employer and not you?”

Hongjoong’s replica only nodded before continuing, blithering like the rushing waters of a river.

A year ago, a human named Choi San managed to enter Utopia, and was thrilled to find his counterpart. He explained how he worked for years studying about dimensions, findings manuscripts and notes, eventually creating a device that allowed the two worlds to intertwine. He, along with his friend, Jung Wooyoung, convinced the Utopian San to enter Earth for a few test runs.

Human San’s intentions were good-hearted, but greed blinded Wooyoung. He wanted to take advantage of the beings in Utopia. He wanted power and profit, wanting all the credit all to himself. San disagreed with Wooyoung’s wishes, and tension grew between the two. While running a few scans on Utopian San, Wooyoung managed to corner and kill San. Utopian San was the only witness present.

Wooyoung’s plan was to remove San out of the picture, and threaten Utopian San with destroying their world unless he agreed to work with him and do as he says. Forging numerous letters under his human half’s name, Utopian San attempted numerous times to escape, not exactly knowing how to use the device created by his late counterpart.

“Wooyoung managed to trap him in your world, running experiments on him that most likely led to his memories being wiped clean,” Hongjoong leaned back on the couch, eyes stone cold,”You mentioned something about him having.. what? Breakdowns? Can you explain what you meant?”

His gaze hardened as you explained what occoured with your friend, Mingi’s helpless expression making you frown with pity.

“I can’t say for sure, but what I think is happening is that he’s getting flashes of both his memories, as well as Earth’s San’s memories,” Seonghwa concluded, voice wary,”I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten mad at this point. His aura is getting weaker by being in another dimension.”

“Is it treatable?” Mingi’s concerned voice spoke before you managed to form any words.

Seonghwa’s lips pressed into a thin line,”Most likely, in Utopia, it is. If he stays in Earth any longer, than I highly doubt it. He’ll lose his damn mind.. and death seems inevitable too.”

Your hands trembled at the words, eyes frantic and in search of answers as you looked back at Hongjoong.

They’ll have to take San away from you.

San will die if he remains with you.

”We attempted to save San, but with Wooyoung’s newest aid– Yeosang, I believe– they improved their systems, and things became complicated for us back in Utopia. The portal leading back to our world glitched, and it seems somehow it opened up to where you were at the time..”

“Your Utopian half and San are together, so I’m not surprised the portal led him to you. Fate works in strange ways,” Seonghwa mused, deep in thought from across the room. You swore your heart skipped a beat at the words.

This is the first time in months they’ve been successful in opening a portal to Earth, and they’re not sure why.  

“It seems that Wooyoung managed to find a way to conceal San’s aura in his home and workplace. We need your help to find him and take him back to our world, along with that damn device. Have you seen it? An hourglass?” when you shook your head, Hongjoong sighed in frustration, hand running through his hair,”Okay. It’s most likely in his study. I’m positive that’s also where he’s keeping San. Is there anyway you can help us get into it? We have no idea how to track it without sensing San’s aura.”

—

Wooyoung was surprised to find you standing in front of his office, bowing your head apologetically for your behavior yesterday, and asking if it was okay for you to tag along with him throughout his day, curious to see his work.

“Hongjoong said there wasn’t much to be done today, so he gave me a break.”

He agreed, but only after you promised you wouldn’t touch anything.

You permitted the arm that slithered around your waist to rest comfortable against your hip as he led you throughout the large campus, his eyes occasionally following the curve of your clavicles and swell of your chest, and back to your eyes as you replied back to one of his comments. Entering the code to his laboratory, you were quick to notice the lack of cameras in any of the corners of the room. There were files stacked neatly onto a few desks, folder strewn about, and other large machines and desktops decorated the back of the room.

You listened to him gloat, his hands tugging you to showcase the numerous certificates and achievements under his belt. Resentment and anger bubbled dangerously in the pit of your stomach, your fingers twitching at the thought of wiping that smirk off his visage.

The fluorescent lights flickered once.

Your smile was strained, nodding and tuning out his words, only for you to jump back, startled, as his face was mere centimeters from your own, breath ghosting your lips,”Did you not hear me, precious?” Emitting a nervous laugh, you reached up to push his face away playfully, his hand grasping your wrist and placing a tender kiss onto your skin,”I asked if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight?”

“Dinner? Well, I-“

“I think she’d rather go with me,” a voice piped from behind you two.

Furrowing your brows, your mind reeled at the familiar voice. You gaped at the sight of a mirror image of Wooyoung, clad in black, resting comfortably in one of the swiveling chairs across the room.

When did he get in?

A curse fell from Wooyoung’s lips as he dropped your hand immediately, reaching forward into the nearest desk to pull out a pistol.

Your breath was strangled in your throat as you took several seconds to process what was happening, your feet taking hesitant steps back to avoid the end of the gleaming, black weapon. A rough tug onto your sleeve, and you found your back pressed against Wooyoung’s chest, the cold metal of his weapon resting against your temple,”Go back to your world-“

“Or else what? You gonna kill her like you killed San?” the other Wooyoung cackled, propping his two legs onto the desk, black leather boots kicking at a few documents. He gazed in amusement at your trembling legs,”Nice to meet you, Earth (y/n). Sorry my human half is a dick. I wouldn’t dare treat a lady like-“

“I didn’t kill San!” You jumped at the ferocity in Wooyoung’s voice, your form tensing against his frame as he breathed heavily against the back of your head,”He’s alive. San is alive- you don’t know what you’re talking about.” This tone- desperate, broken, and determined sent chills down your spine.

“Where is he then?”

You recoiled back, face scrunching and arms flying up to shield your face as the sound of a gunshot left a loud ringing in your right ear. Your wobbly knees struggled to keep your weight up, hesitantly peeling your eyes open and expecting the sight of blood. A bullet hole punctured the chair Utopian Wooyoung once occupied.

“Wooyoung, would you stop running your mouth for once!?”

A blur of black shoved your assailant away, hands hastily disarming the manic eyed professor. You stepped back in surprise, nearly falling down upon impact, Wooyoung’s frame colliding near your feet,”Sorry-“ the curly haired brunette snickered underneath his breath, flashing you a smile and wink. Gaping, you realized that man was Yunho’s counterpart. You were suddenly pulled back by Hongjoong, his eyes cold and void of any sympathy as he stared down at the struggling male.

Mingi had him pinned to the floor, the man fruitlessly attempting to free himself underneath the crushing weight of the red-head.

“(Y/n)! Help me!” Wooyoung growled, cheek painfully pressed onto the floor, eyes trained onto the black weapon which rested innocently feet away,”What are you standing around for!?”

“You should leave, (y/n). Seonghwa found the device in one the rooms here. All that’s left is to find San—,”

Once Wooyoung realizes what’s occurring, his movements cease. His jaw slackens and then he glowers in your direction,”You bitch!” the broken sound of betrayal almost leaves you feeling pity towards Wooyoung,”You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into! There’s no way you’re getting–“

His taunts only increased the pressure of Mingi’s fist in his hair, the smaller male letting out a rough grunt of pain as his face is slammed down roughly onto the floor, pearls of red dripping down his nose. Hongjoong’s orbs flickered between you and Wooyoung,”(Y/n), things are going to get ugly. If we have to use force, so be it. I don’t want you here witnessing that. You’ve been more than enough to help us.”

Your gaze softened, the prickling feeling of tears welling up in your eyes evident from their glassy appearance. Shaking your head, you took in a shaky breath,”No. I need to find San. I’m not leaving without him.”

Wooyoung’s counterpart eyed you curiously, his foot stepping onto his human half’s ankle,”Seems like you put a strain on my friends and their human halves too? I’m so embarrassed to have you as my half, fuck,” he chuckled humorlessly whilst grinding his boot against the male’s ankle, the other still squirming underneath Mingi’s weight, cries of pain only amusing the Utopian Wooyoung even more,”Oh, sorry. Didn’t see your leg there. Does that hurt?”

Hongjoong was quick to turn you around, tugging you and scoffing underneath his breath,”Alright, fine. You’ll see him, when we find him, but please, don’t make it hard on yourself when it’s time for us to depart. Do not get in the way, is that understood?”

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded reluctantly, your attempts to contain your emotions failing after facing the harsh reality of your predicament. While Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho began tormenting the pinned male, Hongjoong and Seonghwa accompanied you in searching every curve and crevice of the building to no avail. You winced as Seonghwa’s fist left a dent in the wall out of frustration, and you found yourselves back in the lab, where the leather clad Wooyoung was resting onto his human half’s chest, legs propped on either side. A sadistic grin took over his features as he watched the blood dribble down the male’s lips,”I can do this all day, Wooyoungie.” He paused mid-punch, sharp eyes flickering in your direction. When he noted the absence of his best friend, he proceeded to land several more strikes onto the fallen man’s face,”You fucker.”

Yunho and Mingi’s hopeful expressions deflated as they noticed you returned empty handed,”We can’t find him.”

“Where is he!?” Hongjoong demanded, crouching down to meet Wooyoung’s eyes.

“You’re not..” He spluttered, droplets of blood striking Hongjoong’s angered face,”You can’t take him away from me.”

The sound of the door opening ceased every breath and movement in the lab, and your panicked filled eyes flew to Hongjoong as Yeosang stepped into the room, ironed lab coat and glasses pristine underneath the lights.

A second ticked by, silence enveloping the room as Yeosang froze to assess the situation.

Seonghwa was quick on his feet to tackle him against the wall, knife digging painfully into the curve of his neck,”Ah, about time the other rat appeared. What do you think we should do with this one, Hongjoong?”

Yeosang’s eyes were confused as they landed on you, his hands raised up in defeat, adam’s apple bobbing against the edge of the dagger, which rested painfully close to his jugular,”Wait!” he cried, voice emitting in rapid, panic pants,”I removed the barriers that stopped you from entering our world! I only plan to help you, I promise. I can take you to San!”

Wooyoung weakly lifted his head up to spit in Yeosang’s direction, glassy, panicked eyes narrowing, his voice cracking with betrayal and distraught,”Have you lost your mind? You wouldn’t, Yeosang. Don’t you dare— you know San belongs here-“

Yeosang inhaled sharply as Seonghwa roughly shoved him away after Hongjoong’s request, shoulders deflating as he gazed at his bloodied friend,”I’m sorry. I don’t really have much of a choice now. I’ve already decided where my morals lie.”

You were expecting Wooyoung to shout in anger, to scream, to yell. What you weren’t expecting him to do was sob, voice so helpless and broken, sending a cold chill down to the marrow of your bones,”I regret it! Is that what you want to hear? I regret killing him and– the other San! He’s supposed to take his place- I want him back,” his cries sent a shiver down your spine, his words slurring together as he cries out in grief, panicked breaths cutting his sentences,”I want him—  I want San back! I- I need him back!”

“Take us to him,” Hongjoong’s hard gaze fell onto Yeosang, completely ignoring the crying male. The blonde professor nodded, ushering him out of the room.

You were the first to catch sight of him, rushing forward and crying his name out in relief. He appeared to be drugged, wires and other devices sticking into various parts of his body. You hadn’t realized you were crying, until Yeosang gently pushed you back into Hongjoong’s arms as he removed the various wires and needles attached to the tired man.

You pulled San into a hug immediately, a sob wracking your form as you apologized for not being there for him when he needed you most. You concluded that after Christmas, Wooyoung took over San’s phone while trapping the male here, hence his emaciated and pale appearance.

His eyes met yours, an apologetic smile finding its way onto his features,”(Y/n),” tears welled in his tired eyes, his voice quiet and weak,”You’re here?”

You nodded, repeatedly mumbling in agreement through your tears, pulling him even tighter and shaking your head, claiming that this was all your fault. Hongjoong watched the exchange with a strained expression, before turning to Seonghwa,”Get the others. It’s time to leave.”

Your eyes widened, frame turning to gape at Hongjoong, and then back to San, your throat closing up. He only offered you a faint smile, hand reaching up to cup your cheek,”Wooyoung told me everything while he kept me here,” his thumb worked at wiping away the few tears that  cascaded down your cheeks,”There was no way to reach out to you, I’m so sorry,” his words were slurred, tongue heavy and mind slightly foggy,”None of this is your fault. I tried.. I tried to get to you. Believe me, I did..”

“It’s not your fault either. San- I.. They’re taking you back to Utopia, San,” your voice cracked, strained and tight in your throat,”They said you need to go back or else-“ you failed to finish your words, jaw slackening as you let out a pained sob at the thought.

His shoulders deflated, head hung low as he buried his face into the crook of your neck,”I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” he held you tighter as you sniffled, whimpers muffled against the side of his head. He held your trembling hands,”I will never find it in me to forgive myself for putting you through all of this.”

His warmth suddenly left you as he was helped up by Yunho and Mingi. Snapping your head to your right, you noticed a swirling light against the wall of the room, where the counterparts of Wooyoung and Hongjoong spoke with Yeosang, the blonde only nodding reassuringly in reply. Their attention snapped to you as you let out a desperate cry, fingers reaching to grasp San’s hand in protest, attempting to pull him towards you. You weren’t aware of your shrill, panicked laced voice, mind too focused on returning San into your embrace.

The sounds of muffled shouting from the taller two didn’t deter you from wrapping your arms around San’s shoulders, defeat and sadness painting his features as he took in your form. Arms tugged you away, planting you firmly in place, and you writhed and struggled in Yeosang’s hold as you watched with frenzied eyes as Wooyoung leaned forward, his form dissipating into the portal, followed by Seonghwa. Hongjoong turned to give you one last glance, frown on his face,”I’m sorry, (y/n).”

He held onto San, who not once took his teary eyes off of you. Mingi and Yunho disappeared, and with one last attempt, you kicked back at Yeosang, the blonde yelping in surprise at the sudden rush of pain on his shin, flailing forward and catching you by the ankle roughly, preventing you from moving forward,”Stop, (y/n)!”

The last thing you saw as the diameter of the portal shrunk was San’s heartbroken expression, along with the hourglass in Hongjoong’s arms. The portal vanished, leaving tiny specks of light in the air, a gentle breeze kissing your wet face.

“Yeosang,” you mumbled, turning back to the blonde,”take me there. What do I do? I need-“

“He took the device with him, (y/n). There’s no way any of us can reach their world anymore,” he ran a hand through his hair, voice steady and firm.

You don’t know how long you sat there, crying and yelling profanities at him. The rush of footsteps throughout the building ceased your sobs, and you watched from the doorway as officers forcefully dragged an injured Wooyoung out of the other room, his panicked eyes filled with disbelief boring holes into Yeosang, who already had his arms up in submission,”Yeosang? You reported..” The blonde was restrained and taken away as well.

“Miss?” an opened palm invaded your blurry vision, and you peered up to meet the concerned, brown eyes of an officer, uniform hugging his large frame,”Are you okay?”

Silent tears pooled and streamed down your cheeks, your head shaking weakly.

No, Seonghwa. I’m not okay

.

—

Your half lidded eyes bore holes into the tv as the news anchor spoke, showcasing two mugshots of both Yeosang and Wooyoung. Your eyes flickered down to your lap, unable to even look at Wooyoung’s face.

“A new update regarding the disappearance and death of Choi San, the physics professor of University of Seoul. After almost a year after leaving a note and disappearing, police have confirmed that the letter was forged.“

Kang Yeosang, an assistant professor who joined Jung after Choi’s disappearance complied with police, informing them every detail regarding the case, and providing written evidence and memoirs from both the late Choi and Jung. It’s been reported that Choi was the first to discover Utopia, working years on building the device that managed to connect with the alternate dimension, creating portals that challenge both time and space. It is said that every human on Earth has a counterpart in the other dimension.

In hopes of taking all the credit, Jung murdered Choi, disposing of his body, which has yet to be recovered. Officials say they are still attempting to interrogate the information out of Jung, who is expressing clear signs of distress and manic episodes at the mere mention of Choi’s name.

This counterpart was staying with a woman we will go by A. Choi and A met up in another town, shortly before both moving to Seoul, where they encountered Jung at the University of Seoul. Reports state that Choi moved out from A’s apartment and back with Jung. After numerous reports, officials have declared A to not be involved in Jung and Kang’s crimes, Kang testifying in her defense.

Choi’s Utopian counterpart was forced into our dimension, his memories from his Utopian life disappearing after Choi’s death. A statement from Kang concludes that Jung was the cause of that.

In an attempt to undo the murder of Choi, Jung attempted to implant memories into Utopian Choi in hopes that he will take his human’s place, which only aided in creating discord between our world and Utopia. When the Utopians attempted to re-enter our dimension, Kang implemented new sets of devices that aided in sealing the two worlds apart from each other. It was only recently that Kang eliminated these tools, thus permitting the Utopians from intervening.

The Utopians did not intend to harm or hurt anyone. Their only intention was to rescue their friend, and also take the device the late Choi created to cease their world from being further tampered by us.

Jung and Kang have both been stripped of their titles according to the university. Their first court date will be announced later today to determine their senten—“

You closed your eyes, hand hastily clicking the power button on the remote, before wrapping yourself with the blanket tightly. Curling into a ball and throwing the the fuzzy sheet over your head, you decided you were tired of hearing the news reports, opting for the deafening silence you grew to hate. Fluttering your eyes shut, you stilled, inhaling San’s scent that was left lingering on the blanket. The amethyst necklace tickled your cheek, your hand reaching up to move it away.

A sweet, floral scent filled the space of your living room, a beautifully arranged bouquet resting on the coffee table. The card still stood in the middle of the arrangement, words of encouragement and support written by both Jongho and Yunho in bright green ink. Underneath it, your untouched dinner sat cold and forgotten, clumps of wet tissue paper scattered onto the table and floor.

Your phone chimed, and you peered down, already knowing it was Professor Hongjoong sending another voice message of support. He’d been a strong pillar for you to lean on ever since the news broke out. You made a silent note to respond later, as the time was growing late anyway.

Minutes ticked by and soft snores, along with shallow breathing filled the vacant space, your hair sticking out from the heap you’ve made of yourself and the blanket.

Above you, the lightbulb flickered repeatedly.

[stereogeekspodcast]

[Transcript] Season 2, Episode 6. Diverse Comedies and Why We Love Them

Why do we watch TV comedies? Especially during times of stress, like the pandemic? Ron and Mon at Stereo Geeks dig up some psychological facts about comedy and stress-relief. We also share some of our favourite comedies that we've enjoyed over the past year:

Never Have I Ever

Schitt's Creek

One Day at a Time

Kim's Convenience

Derry Girls

Read Ron's recaps of Never Have I Ever on Show Snob. Read more about hidden comedy gems on Netflix here.

Listen to the episode on Anchor. 

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Ron: Hello and welcome to a new Stereo Geeks Special. I'm Ron.

Mon: And I'm Mon.

Ron: Today we'll be discussing TV comedies and why we love them. The question is: are comedies good for us? According to psychotherapist Dr Joti Samra, who spoke to CBC, marathon-watching comedies helps people escape the impact of COVID. She said: “It's wonderful, it's healthy, it's good for us and we're supposed to be homebound now anyways so it's a good way to keep us busy.”

Mon: Scott Weems, a cognitive neuroscientist, spoke to Shondaland about the need for humour in the current global situation: “It’s easy to go into a pretty negative rabbit hole with news and everything else. There's so much in the world that can make you laugh or cry, and it’s your choice which of those two to do.”

Ron: The Shondaland article also shared some studies about the positive effects of watching comedy on cancer patients. So, as you can imagine, when there's a global pandemic happening, comedies are the go to for everyone.

Now the two of us, we aren't huge comedy people, but this pandemic has changed our minds. In an earlier Detective Mode episode, we talked about how animated films have brought us so much joy during this very strange, global catastrophe. But we also found a lot of the same kind of comfort in comedies.

And TV shows which are comedies are easier to get into. At least, that's what I think. They're shorter, they're sharper, you get little snippets that you can come back to from time to time. You're not in it for the long haul. It's your choice whether you want to watch more or not. Unlike with a comedy film, where you’re kind of stuck there for an hour and a half, or two hours, and sometimes, the experience isn't all that great.

There are different kinds of comedies and humor. We don't like every single kind of comedy out there. This pandemic has helped us realize what kind of comedies we do like.

According to CognitionToday, there are numerous Theories of Humour, but there are four types of humour that are prevalent in pop culture today.

The first one is self-deprecating humor—this is aimed at oneself, to make others laugh.

There is also aggressive humor—this is aimed at putting another person down.

Then there's affiliative humor—this is to be equally enjoyed by everyone.

And, finally, self-enhancing humor—aimed at making yourself feel better after making a mistake.

The different kinds of humor kind of explain why we like certain comedies and certain comedic characters but not others. For Mon and me, affiliative humor is probably the one that most gives us joy, whereas the others, not so much. Having said all that, what comedy TV shows have we been watching?

Mon: For the purpose of this show, we will be talking about five comedies that we really enjoyed. There’s a common theme that runs through all five of these comedies. It's very much a story about family and coming together. And with that, let's start talking about which are these five comedies and what we love most about them.

Ron: The TV show that made us realize that comedies could be our thing was Netflix's Never Have I Ever. The first season was released during the pandemic. Co-created by Mindy Kaling, the story follows young Devi, who has lost her father and isn't coping very well. But she gets into all sorts of high school hijinks because she is trying to become a cool, popular girl. Now, that's quite the ask for a nerdy teenager. Alongside Devi is her extremely attractive and extremely smart cousin Kamala, her mother, Nalini, who is very Indian, and her good friends, Eleanor and Fabiola, who are going through their own extremely difficult journeys.

There is a clear reason why we love this show. It's about Indians! Yes, it’s in an American setting, which is a little bit far away from us, but this is not what we get to see usually. And the humor was very relatable. There are certain things that were said and shown that just made sense to us. I don't think this show was for everybody and definitely not for every demographic, but for us, it really did speak to us.

Mon: I can't say many of Devi’s experiences or her thoughts reflected those of our own, especially at that age. But I think just the dynamic between her, her cousin, her mom, even her father, who appears in flashbacks or dream sequences, there's just this Indian vibe there you get because you come from an Indian family. And it doesn't matter which part of the world you’re in, there's just this kind of Indian-ness that you can't escape.

I think what a lot of people liked about this show was that essentially, it's a teen comedy-drama about this young girl whose coping with life and love and the lack of love, but it's centered on a girl who is of Indian origin. Which is a novel concept, even now. It was nice to see some diversity not only with the lead cast, but also her friends’ group. And it was just funny! It was really, really funny.

Ron: What I also liked about Never Have I Ever was that Devi wasn’t perfect. In fact, there are plenty of times when you would just be like, Devi, stop being so self-centered. Other people have problems too. But that's what’s made her believable, because when you're a teenager, everything that's happening to you is the end of the world. But obviously, it isn't. We get to see how her mom is struggling without her father. We get to see the concerns that Kamala has about her life. Devi’s friend, Fabiola, is dealing with how to come out. Her friend, Eleanor, has a very strained relationship with her mother. And then there's Devi’s love-interest, Paxton Hall-Yoshida. I love that the love interest is mixed. That informs a lot of his story, as well, and his very peculiar interactions with his strange group of friends.

There's a lot of emotion in Never Have I Ever, despite it being a comedy, and I think that's what probably makes it more memorable. Devi’s story is not for the faint of heart. She has lost her father and she is dealing with that not in very healthy ways. But the show manages to avoid being tropey or falling into any stereotypes. The first season as a whole works really well. Of course, they do open the doors for a sequel and more hijinks. And we do know that they are going to get second season, but what we've got so far definitely works.

Mon: Let's move on to the comedy of all comedies, Schitt’s Creek. We were late to this party, but I'm glad we finally got invited. So, Schitt’s Creek was created by Eugene and Dan Levy, father and son duo. They play Johnny Rose and David Rose, father and son on the show. Catherine O'Hara—everybody knows her—she plays Johnny's wife, Moira. And the quartet is completed by Annie Murphy’s Alexis Rose, the daughter.

Well, what can we say about this show? It starts off with the Rose family being ousted from their beautiful, beautiful house and they move into Schitt’s Creek, a tiny town, in the back of nowhere, that Johnny happens to have the deeds for. And we experience this quirky little town through the eyes of the very sophisticated, very la-dee-da Rose family. Over six seasons, how does the Rose family evolve? How does the town change and how does the town change them? We start off with a family that is kind of unlikable. But by the end of it, we're kind of rooting for them.

I have to say, the first three seasons of this show had its moments when it actually made me wonder, do I actually like this? Why is it so popular? But by the end of the six seasons, yep, I definitely loved it a lot. And I love these characters, as well. I think once they got settled into being part of this town and accepting their new lives, they became more relatable and a lot more fun to hang out with, because there wasn’t that constant antagonism. But I also feel like they started becoming part of the town wallpaper, and it really helped to make the story far more cohesive.

What I like about it is, and this is something that's coming up a lot more these days, where earlier, living in a small town was anathema to happiness, nowadays, I feel like a lot more shows are celebrating small-town life.

Ron: Once Schitt’s Creek swept the categories at the 2020 Emmys, I realized it was time for me to watch the show. I would see it on my timeline and people kept saying the same thing: they were really struggling with that opening season, but everybody else would keep saying, it will get better. I don't actually know if I agree with that because I was kind of hooked from the very first episode. This family is a disaster! And usually, I would find it rather cringe because the Rose family are very used to a particular kind of life and the moment they move into Schitt’s Creek, they’re just so condescending. From time to time, I kind of agreed with them [laughs] because the people around them were a bit eww. But I also understood why the townspeople needed the Rose family to step up and actually be a part of this community.

I thought it was really well done. From the very start, you can see where the conflict is and you understand what resolution they're going to need, from both sides, the Rose family and the people of Schitt’s Creek.

And right from the beginning, you can see how the two warring factions will actually come together. So, you see Johnny hanging out with the town mayor, Roland. They have absolutely nothing in common but by dint of being who they are, they've got to work together to run the town. You see Moira hanging out with Jocelyn, the mayor's wife, who's also a school teacher and runs the choir and takes care of a lot of the social activities that makes the town run. David and Stevie start up a very interesting friendship, which becomes a relationship, and then a friendship again. And Alexis makes a lot of very good friends, and more, when she’s in Schitt’s Creek. And all this happens in the very first season. So, it lays the groundwork for so much more.

And then, of course, once Noah Reid’s Patrick Brewer joins the show, it really takes off. I have spent years reading about David and Patrick. And everything I've read has made me think, Oh, that's so sweet. They sound really lovely. I'm so glad that characters like this exist. Then, I watched the show and I'm like, Oh. My God. These guys are amazing. I am in love with David and Patrick!

Mon: Like you, I had heard more about David and Patrick, than actually seen them. And when I finally did watch the relationship and how it grew, I figured it out. It's because they’re really nice characters. They respect each other, they also understand each other. They're fun to be around. And what I liked about the show was that they didn't try to shoehorn in unnecessary conflict. Stuff happens. Things get in the way and their relationship goes through ups and downs. But in the end, they always come back together. Because they're both hilarious!

There is this moment when they are definitely at the breaking point and David does not want to speak to Patrick because he was apparently lied to. So, David is hiding out in his room, but he did not get enough snacks. So, he tells Patrick to go get him the snacks, all the while, he's trying to break up with him. I cannot think of this scene without cracking up. That to me, was the moment that sold the entire relationship and the entire show to me. Comedy gold!

Ron: Every character in this show is hilarious and they're hilarious because their reactions are exactly how we would react. Some of the things that happened are ridiculous! And the characters call out the ridiculousness of it, which is why it's so funny. But there are also so many sweet, sweet moments. You see this Rose family who had everything, they've lost everything but they've now found each other. They kind of end up richer than they were before because they sit down to eat meals together, they cook together, they go to places together, they celebrate Christmas together. These are things that they've just seen other people do. But now they’re doing it together. It's just so warm and sweet and it just made me so happy. While also making me laugh out loud so hard that I cried.

Mon: This show is quite white. There are very few persons of color in it. There has been some controversy around the fact that the one Indian character is played by an actor who doesn't have an accent and puts on an accent. It didn't bother me that much. You don't expect a character of Indian origin to be in a small town so that was new for us, so I didn't mind it too much. Okay, he could have been more fleshed-out but so be it.

That being said, the show tries very hard to subvert some of our expectations. For a character like Alexis, she could have just been eye candy or boring, and her entire storyline could have been just about her romances and her relationships. But she supersedes that. Especially by the end, I honestly think Alexis had the best growth. She makes the most mature decisions, which Alexis in the first season would have balked at. But I really ended up liking her character because of how they ended her arc.

But the unsung hero of this entire story has got to be Stevie. Emily Hampshire's Stevie Budd really is a scene-stealer. She is so sarcastic but she's so warm and welcoming. And I like that at the end of it, she's kind of a de-facto member of the Rose family. And she and Johnny have this amazing relationship which goes beyond just being partners in crime, but also I would think, as a surrogate daughter. It's adorable. It's really, really sweet. I enjoyed every scene that Stevie was in. She was just incredible.

Ron: Having seen Emily Hampshire absolutely steal the show in 12 Monkeys, Stevie was a delight. She's very different from Jennifer Goines, but she's still as much of a scene-stealer here as she was there. I've already talked about how I love David and Patrick, but I have to say, David from season one stole my heart. He is such a goof. He tries do his best, but his best is a disaster. This entire family is a mess, but it's exemplified by David. He doesn't know how to do anything. In fact, his first meeting with Patrick is when he's trying to start up a lovely store, which becomes quite the place to be in Schitt’s Creek, except he doesn't know how to fill in the form. The only reason his very lovely store actually makes it to opening night, is because Patrick does all the admin, donkey work. David is useless.

But as useless as David is, he's also adorable. And you know what, amongst the entire Rose family, it feels like he's the only one who really believes that there can be more to them than their shallow, rich, privileged lives. I feel like he fits into Schitt’s Creek best. He does the hardest to absorb his very strange new surroundings. That kind of helps the entire family get used to being Schitt’s Creek residents. This entire family is great to watch but David, hands-down, my favorite.

Mon: It's honestly no wonder, that after watching the entirety of these six seasons, that this show ran off with all the awards in 2020.

Ron: Especially since Season Six was such a triumph. I felt like I knew where the show was going, and then Season Six happened and I was like, oh, okay, this is exactly where I wanted it be. It does right by the Rose family; it does right by the Schitt’s Creek residents, and it does right by the audience. In a way, I'm kind of glad that I waited till the whole thing was done before I watched it. I'm not sure I would have enjoyed it as much if I was waiting every year for the new season to drop. I kind of marathon-watched this whole show in like a week. No regrets. But it made me really, really happy. And I'm thrilled that it exists. Because honestly considering the way the world is right now, we need this.

Mon: One Day at a Time—or ODAAT—is the Latinx reboot of the 80s show. I had heard so much about this show. I kept meaning to watch it. Then I came across an ad. One of those episode ads which kind of gives you an insight into what's happening in the next episode. Those 30 seconds were the hardest I'd laughed that entire year.

Suffice to say I had to go and find the show and watch all of it. Thankfully Netflix has three seasons and I was able to catch up with the rest of TV.

ODAAT is about the Alvarez family, headed by Penelope played by Justina Machado. Penelope lives with her mom. I'm Lydia Riera played by Rita Moreno. We also have Penelope’s two kids Elena played by Isabella Gomez and Alex played by Marcel Ruiz. And the de facto member of the Alvarez family is Schneider—played Todd Grinnell—their landlord.

From the get-go this show is so funny. I was just laughing my head off. I honestly don't know where to start because it was just so funny.

Penelope is a nurse and then a nurse practitioner and she's just trying to keep it together with this insane family that she’s stuck with.

Ron: Penelope is like your everyday average working mom. She's got her job; she's worried about her kids’ future; she wants to hang out with her mom; she wishes she had some romance in her life. But in the middle of it all, is the fact that by dint of being Latino, they sing and dance and they have a great time and that just kind of changes everything about the way they live.

Now, Lydia, her mom, coming from Cuba and having been displaced, she has a lot of different stories and a very different outlook to life. Penelope’s kind of stuck in the middle. She's American, but she also wants to hang on to her Cuban heritage. And then you have her children who are very American. And sometimes they chafe against the Cuban heritage that their mom and grandmom foist upon them. There's a little bit of conflict but at the end of the day, you can't run away from who you are. And that kind of informs their family dynamic—not just between the four of them, but beyond, because they have a nice big family who they get to meet from time to time.

I really enjoyed all the interactions in this family, because it reminded me of us. I think that's what really got me, like, from the very first episode it was like the grandmom and the mom and the two kids and I was just like, ‘Did somebody steal our story?’ It was like watching ourselves and I love that.

I know that One Day at a Time speaks to a lot of people in different ways. We aren’t Latinx, we're Indian, but it still managed to speak to us while also being incredibly funny. Every single episode made me laugh out loud so hard whether it was Lydia talking about her darling Papito, to Elena with her extremely snide comments about everything. Schneider, who would try desperately to be Latino even though he is not. And Penelope who was just trying to wrangle everybody into a proper family so that she could just get some work done.

Mon: I think I knew this show was going to be something special during the season one finale. Now, you think, ‘Yeah, it's a finale, whatever’. But the first season deals with Lydia and Penelope desperately trying to convince Elena that she has to have her Quinceañera. This is a cultural ceremony. They want to celebrate Elena. But Elena chafes against this gendered celebration.

Partway through the season when Elena sort gives in, I was like ‘oh, okay, this is like every other show.’ But then the finale happened. Throughout the first season, Lydia was making these beautiful dresses for Elena because this is a huge event, she has to show off. And Lydia's dresses were amazing, but nothing seemed to impress Elena. She was being very nice to her grandmother, but she just didn't like them.

Then in the finale, Lydia had worked all night to create a dress that she thought Elena would like. Now, we don't have to see the dress at first, but we know that it creates a very strong emotional reaction in Elena. And we get to see why.

Turns out, Lydia had turned the dress into a pantsuit. Suddenly this show made so much sense to me. I really wish that when we were growing up the only message we didn't get to see is that girls look pretty in dresses. People look pretty in whatever they were and whatever they’re happy wearing. Who cares? And there's an entire generation who gets to see Elena be her actual self at this huge ceremony in front of her family and be really happy with it, and be supported by most of her family members.

And then, of course, I'm not going to give it away because it's…it's huge. The actual Quinceañera has this amazing moment that makes you fall in love with the Alvarez family all over again. And the only way is up.

Ron: The moment I realized that I would absolutely adore this show was during Penelope’s outburst partway through season one, when she's just tired and she tells her mom that she misses having a partner. Not just her mom and her kids—yes they make her happy, they feel like family—but just somebody who will spoon her at night.

And that night while Penelope is sleeping in her bed, her mother appears, shoves her to the side and Penelope just wants to know what her mom is doing there. And Lydia just has one thing to say, ‘I'm here to spoon you’. [Laughs]

Mon: And the way Lydia then puts her leg over poor Penelope. I swear, this show is just so natural. That's what I love about it.

Ron: It's so good and I was just like, this just makes so much sense. This is exactly what people would do in real life. I knew I was gonna love this show.

Mon: And what I like about all the characters is that none of them are perfect. They all have these moments where you’re like, ‘No, you did not just say that; you did not think that.’ But they grow out if it, they listen to each other and they become better people.

Like the way Lydia has very conventional views of how relationships evolve, or how Alex is like every other boy and gets into trouble because he really needs to respect women. I just love that about them.

Yes, if you're watching the episodes back-to-back, you might find that every little crying scene is a little too much. But honestly, there's a lot of drama in life. Sometimes you just want a good cry and then have a really good laugh.

Ron: We don't really watch sitcoms that much. So, One Day at a Time’s very formulaic approach to each episode was a bit surprising. But for me, it kind of worked because you get the laughs, you get the tears and then you get some more laughs. But it's geared towards concluding the events of that episode and making you want to come back for more. And I felt that every time.

Mon: One thing's got to be said about the continuity during the four seasons of this show. There are character beats and character tics that keep coming back over the course of the four seasons. And I absolutely love that because, as people we tend to do the same things over and over. We react the same way to circumstances. So why would our TV characters change? Well, the Alvarez family don't change and it's hilarious. I especially like how there are certain tics that are intergenerational—as soon as you see it, you’ll know what I mean.

Ron: The few sitcoms that we have seen, you can almost immediately tell when there's a plot hole or when the writing team has changed, but the consistency on One Day at a Time is something else. You feel like you're watching this one family over a period of years and it makes for a great marathon-viewing experience.

Mon: Yeah, I do think it's something special to be able to watch all the episodes back-to-back, because you are spending time with his family. And that's exactly how the episodes make you feel. It is very immersive.

Of course we can't talk about Schneider at all. Let’s just mention our audience stand-in—the privileged guy who fails to see just how privileged he is. But at the same time, he's there for this family in a way that, I guess, everybody needs. You just need that friend and Schneider is that.

Yes, he can be a bit intrusive and doesn't seem to know that you can actually knock on a door, but I really like how supportive he is. He's their for the family.

Ron: And I think that's what makes the Alvarez family so great. Whoever comes into their orbit, they’re so welcoming and open; they don't have to be. They’ve gone through a lot of stuff, we see the struggles that they do have—Penelope as a war veteran, she can't even get the benefits that she's due. But despite all that, they’re always ready to welcome more people into their lives. And they try and be understanding. They may, in the dead of night, have chats about how things don't quite make sense, but they will try and resolve it somehow or the other.

And we can't not to mention that fantastic cameo. I don't want to give it away, but just as the audience screamed, I was screaming internally as well. I did not see that coming. It was so good.

Mon: There's one set of characters we haven't mentioned, and that is Penelope’s support group. They don't appear that often, though they get a lot more screen time, especially in the third and limited fourth season.

They are incredible characters. We mostly see them in the support group scenario, but they have such amazing personalities. And while they are audience stand-ins, sometimes the advice they give is funnier than anything else that happens in the episode.

Ron: I love those support group scenes. First of all, we need more fictional characters to go to therapy. That is one thing I loved about Never Have I Ever, Devi has to keep going to therapy and it really does help.

And One Day at a Time, you see Penelope really work through a lot of her problems because she’s going to the support group and getting their advice. Yes, some of the comments are a bit too frank, but she needs that. And I love the fact that all these people have very distinct personalities. Their didn’t have to be, they could very easily have been one homogenous whole. But they’re very, very separate people and they make the interactions so much fun.

Every part of this show is so well put together. It's such a shame that it's been canceled. It's unfair.

Mon: And you end on a high note as well with an animated episode—because the pandemic. But they really make some astute points about the world that we live in. But honestly, we deserved several more seasons of hanging out with the Alvarez family. Especially as the kids grow older, how would they have dealt with the changes in their lives? Going to college? Maybe not. Who knows? It’s really disappointing. After being saved a couple of times, now it seems like ODAAT has come to an end.

Ron: I don't think you can be in Toronto and not know about Kim’s Convenience. We’ve obviously heard a lot about this show but the pandemic seemed to be the perfect opportunity to start watching it. Kim’s Convenience follows the titular Kim family who run a convenience store. So, we have Appa, we have Umma, and we have Janet, who run the store every day. But there's also Jung, who, well, his story is a little bit different. I thought I was going to get one kind of story when I started watching this TV show. From the very first episode I realized I was in for a completely different ride.

For one, seeing that Janet was kind of the favorite of the family and Jung was the outcast? Hmmm… Not what I expected. Also, Appa and Umma have the best personalities and the most adorable relationship. They are so cute. I mean, everybody thinks that they have parents like this but, you know what, you don't! They’re really cool. Even though they're very flawed. They have very, very high expectations of their children. And they don’t always live up to it. You can see how Jung been thrown out of the family has impacted the way Janet interacts with them. Like, she tries to be her very best. But having said that, I love the fact that she's pursuing a career in art and that her parents really do support her in this. That was unexpected. But also, what I really like is, I’m so tired of seeing Southeast Asian characters who are IT experts. There is not an IT expert in sight in this show! Yes! Thank you!

Mon: So, Jung, who is the black sheep of the family, his story runs parallel to that of Kim’s Convenience. He works in a car rental agency. One of his colleagues is also his roommate and childhood friend, Kimchee. And his boss, Shannon, who in the first season has the biggest, most transparent crush on Jung, before she finds a relationship, which doesn't really work out. That guy did not stand a chance. So, there are the hijinks of the rental agency, the people they meet, and the things they get up to. And there's everything that happens in the convenience store.

What I like is that you really get a good feel of the people that this family is interacting with. There are these frequent customers, because let's be honest, if you live in a particular area, you're going to go to the same shops over and over and everybody's going to know everybody else. And let's not forget the Kim family and their association with the church, especially the new pastor, who herself is such an incredibly funny character.

What this show does is that it really subverts your expectations of what these characters are going to be like. You think the Pastor is going to be very saintly and constantly quote from the Bible, but she's a flawed human person. And you think that the parents, Appa and Umma, are going to be these very strict and mean stick-in-the-muds, but they’re not. They’re so silly most of the time, and they’re constantly learning. And even Janet, she's not perfect. She's really trying to find herself. She's very passionate but she also really loves her family. So, she wants to do the best by them, but she wants to find her own identity. Then there’s Jung, who is the wild child, but he's trying to be more responsible.

And in amongst all this are these hilariously funny moments and interactions and misunderstandings which really don't come across as gimmicky, but just in general, hilarious.

Ron: All the ridiculous events that happen in this show, it really doesn't come across as contrived, at all. But it’s really the relationships that power this show. And I love the fact that the focus is really on Appa and Umma. It's very easy for TV shows to always be about the young people. Janet and Jung are very interesting characters in their own right and their particular social circles have very interest dynamics. But the stars of the show are undoubtedly Appa and Umma. They get up to all sorts of stuff. I’ve never seen such naughty parents in a fictional TV show! They get into trouble with their kids. Because these two are a bit too in touch with each other. And you know what, when they see an opportunity to do something crazy, they’ll take it. They sometimes don't think, and you know what, that makes them most endearing to us. I love the fact that they’re not straitlaced. You don’t know what you're gonna get with them. It's so unexpected and their kids kinda sometimes egg them on, so it just makes for such fun viewing.

Mon: What I like is that Appa and Umma don't seem to hate each other. Far too often, whenever you see these couples, especially slightly older couples in TV shows, they're always crabbity, bickering. It actually makes you wonder why they were ever married and how they stayed together for so long. That's not the case with these two characters. You can see where the love is. You can also see that these are two individuals, they have spent several decades together. So, of course, they're going to be a little bit jaded at points, and they're going to want different things. But at the same time, they've also had so many years of shared life experiences, there's no way that they don't want to be each other's best friends. I'm glad that this show at least has a new season. I can't wait to see what they're gonna do. They definitely subvert a lot of tropes, and in a word, it is a-mah-zing.

Ron: Shannon would be proud.

Ron: The final show on our list is Derry Girls. This show follows five well, four, Derry girls, plus a Derry boy, and their various high jinks in school, set against the backdrop of the turmoil in Ireland. The setting for the show is quite different from what we’ve seen before. Our understanding of the problems in Ireland is purely academic, so it's great to watch a show that's actually engaging with that topic. That doesn't mean that this show is depressing. There are some moments which are very hard-hitting, and it really brings home to you exactly what conditions everybody was living under. But despite all that, people were still living their lives. They were still going to school. They were still trying to finish papers and pass tests. And these teenagers, they were getting into all sorts of trouble.

So, who are the Derry Girls? We have Erin, Orla, Clare, Michelle, and Michelle's English cousin, James. Obviously, he doesn't quite fit in. The very Catholic school that they go to is an all-girls school. The only reason James is there is because, by dint of being English in Ireland, his safety was under threat were he to go to a boys’ school. But somehow, he manages to fit in quite well with this very misfit group of friends.

The girls have very distinct personalities. Erin is trying to be the cool girl. She most definitely is not cool. Orla is extremely kooky but you know what, she's happy with that, she accepts this part of her personality. Clare is the hard worker and the nerd. The problem is that the friends around her don't really do any studying. Michelle is the troublemaker. She's the one who's interested in romance, doesn't want to go for classes, and basically if there’s trouble any where, she's probably in the middle of it. And poor James. He's just trying to get back home but first he has to get through this school year in this very, very strange setting, where everybody thinks he's a girl, and can’t understand why he talks funny.

Mon: What I like about this show is that, in most TV shows and films, there's a group of characters and then there's ‘the girl’. In Derry Girls, then there is ‘a boy’. That’s his raison d'être, and I really liked that. That in itself tells you this show is not going to be like every other. And let's not forget the star of the show, whose eyeroll itself should win her several Oscars.

Ron: From the moment Sister Michael appears, you know you’ve seen one of the greatest characters ever created in fiction. There isn't a single aside that Sister Michael says that you can't help guffaw at. She is so irreverent, and she has a sarcastic comment for everything. Let's just say that if you have a problem, Sister Michael is the person you don't go to.

Mon: Sister Michael is exactly the kind of person you never want to meet, but in a show, she is the kind of person you want in every scene. And the way Siobhan McSweeney plays her, it's like she was born to play this character. Honestly, the show is taken to a whole new level with Sister Michael. But to go back to the main group of girls and James, they are a fun lot to hang out with. When I saw the pictures for this show, I was like, another teen show with these kids who are being all cool. But when you watch the show, you really feel them on a visceral level. They are so uncool, so unpopular. They’re like every silly school group that you were part of. And it really makes you feel seen.

Ron: It's not just the fact that the Derry Girls are uncool, it's that even when they try to be cool, their parents don't let them. On the one hand, you can't blame the parents. They don't have that much money. But on the other hand, they’re such stick-in-the-muds. They’re exactly the opposite of the parents in Kim’s Convenience. This lot, they didn't want to do anything. They just want to get through the day somehow. And the poor kids, as a result, can't do anything amazing.

Mon: None of the kids have any game nor any style.

Ron: But what they do have is each other. And together, no matter what kind of situations they get into, they’ll find a way out. And they certainly do get into a lot of crazy situations.

Mon: And let’s not forget the soundtrack. While you're watching the show, it’s so much fun. It's full of these quintessential, Irish boyband songs and stuff. It's so much fun to listen to.

Ron: It's like 90s nostalgia with this show. I couldn't believe some of the songs I was listening to because, I was like, wow, it has been awhile. But it takes you into that period of time and it places you very firmly exactly where they want you to be. It's just fun. And it doesn't always have to make sense. But at the end of it, you feel like you're one of the Derry Girls, and that's the whole point.

Mon: So, as you can see, the strongest thread that's running through these five shows is how these characters fight the world, but they fight it together and with a lot of jokes and hilarity. Which comedy shows would you say are your favorites? Let us know.

Ron: You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email stereogeekspodcast@gmail.com. We hope you enjoyed this episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[Continuum by Audionautix plays]

Transcription by Otter.ai, Ron, and Mon.

[whumperscorner]

Hello, my dear Rasko. I would like to order a bit of Pinned to the Wall for the bthb, thank you. 👀

Hello, my dear :3 Your whump is here as ordered

With Nyx, because I know you like him :>

BTHB #4- Pinned to the Wall

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius, Libertus Ostium

Whumpee: Nyx Ulric

Word count: 2775

Warnings: None

Can also be found on ao3

The plan had been very simple. In short: infiltrate the building, get the hostages out and defeat the bad guys. The usual. And admittedly the first two steps had gone pretty well, but if Nyx had learnt anything from being a glaive for as long as he had been it was that plans rarely went off without a hitch, even the simple ones. A small team of Nyx himself and a few others had entered the building undetected and assumed position to await further orders. They had been called to go in, which they did, and that was about when things had gone off the rails.

Nyx's eyes scanned through the chaos of the compact hall they were now in, and chaos really was the word for it. Glaives and members of the opposing group scuffling over each other in disarray. Different weapons shooting from every direction, fists and feet hammering against each other, and residual glimmer from warping still hanging in the air. Nyx cursed under his breath; this was a lot more difficult than it should be. It had gone so well up to this point too, the hostages were all evacuated now, but there were more members of the group than anticipated. Some had been disguised as hostages and some flat out hiding around the building. His team was outnumbered, which meant a change of plans. Ducking under a fist thrown his way, Nyx brought his hand up to the comm in his ear and it crackled to life.

"So how long did backup say?" He asked, voice breathy as he swiftly grabbed the arm of the man who'd punched at him and brought him down. He landed hard on the wooden floor as Crowe's voice sounded back over the comms.

"10- maybe 15 minutes?" She said, her voice also slightly strained from the fighting on her own end. "They want to bring these guys in for questioning, so keep them in this room."

Nyx hummed back in affirmation, swirling around in time to see Libertus a good few feet away felling one aggressor, and two more charging at him. Adrenaline rushed through Nyx's veins as he prepared himself, aiming his kukri above the moving crowds to ensure an uninterrupted warp. In one quick throw he was there, bracing himself and taking one of the assailants down with him as he landed. The guy's head smacked hard into the floor, and he stayed down. Libertus let out a bark of a laugh and brought the second one down himself with couple well placed punches.

"Never a dull day at work huh?" Nyx posed, to which Libs shook his head and chuckled a response. Though Nyx could barely even hear that, narrowly ducking as some blurred projectile whirred past their heads. The two exchanged smug grins and a quick handshake, before turning back to the task at hand and warping their separate ways through the mayhem.

Nyx made his way over to the leftmost side of the room, where one of the few exits were, thinking that if their current objective was to keep the group's members contained that would be the best place to be. And he was right. The area was swarmed and the amount of people there, both friend and foe, made it very hard for anyone to get a proper view of anything. Nyx held his own though, even as his breathing quickened and he was starting to get tired, probably bleeding from various cuts and scrapes as well. Having just finished dealing with one of the many foes Nyx turned, but didn't have time to react fully before someone else jumped forward and tackled him to the floor. The back of his head made contact with the hard surface and he groaned, slightly dazed, but gathered himself soon enough. Using the momentum from the person's tackle to roll back and kick them off overhead, Nyx was quick on his feet again. They just had to keep this going until backup arrived, and he was not going to let up before that.

"Oh, we've got a runner!" Libertus' voice sounded through the comms. "Nyx, he's headed your way."

Nyx swirled around to look and sure enough there was a large, burly man quickly making his way through the crowd, eyes fixed on the exit closer to Nyx. Without a second thought, and without acknowledging the aching of his body, Nyx began running. Ducking and evading fists and weapons as he did so. Someone else charged at him from straight ahead and blocked his way, but Nyx didn't stop, throwing the kukri in his right hand across the floor where he saw an opening. It slid along under multiple pairs of feet, some even jumping to avoid getting nicked by the blade, and Nyx warped after it. He landed only a few short feet away from the open exit, just in time to see the man running ahead down the narrow hallway outside of the room.

"Shit, I'm on it!"

"Nyx wait!" Crowe yelled for him through the comms. "Stay with the team, he's-" but the rest of what she had to say was cut off, and Nyx had already taken off down the hall.

His heart pounded in his chest as he ran, and he was getting a bit dizzy. Nyx cursed inwardly at that, maybe that last warp hadn't been such a good idea. He would need to wait a bit before the next one. Nyx caught a glimpse of the man up ahead right as he took a sharp left turn into another room, and he followed suit. It only took him a few seconds to enter the room after the man, and it took him even shorter to realize what a colossal mistake that had been. He saw it right as he crossed the threshold into the room. As if in slow motion, out of the corner of his eye, bouncing a few times on the floor as it rolled towards him. He realized on instinct what it was, and not being able to warp Nyx's eyes widened and he threw himself to the side. The hand grenade went off, and though Nyx had thrown himself as far away as he could in such little time the blast hit him almost head on.

He felt himself being flung through the air, then hit the floor hard. White hot pain shot out from his right shoulder on impact, and the kukris clattered out of his hands and across the floor. The force of the blast sent him rolling for another few meters until he came to an eventual stop. Nyx was breathing hard and coughed as he tried to gather himself. Shit, his shoulder really hurt when he moved, that was never good but especially not now. With considerable effort Nyx staggered to his feet, clutching the shoulder with his other hand. There was a ringing sound in his ears as he tried to steady himself, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn't just from the blast as Crowe's disjointed voice came through the now busted earpiece.

"Nyx! What… as… at?... yx-" then a head-splittingly loud ringing came from it, and with a low curse Nyx removed it and tossed it aside. It wouldn't be of any help to him now anyways, he decided.

He had just began searching along the floor for his kukris, when the man he had followed appeared out of the shadows by the door where he had been standing, and presumably where he had thrown the grenade from. Nyx's body tensed up, despite how much that hurt. Now looking at close range Nyx recognized the man's face from the mission briefing earlier in the day. He was one of the designated leaders of the organization they were fighting now, hostile to the Crown and reportedly a highly dangerous individual. Not to be engaged with alone if Nyx remembered correctly. Well, he thought somewhat bitterly to himself, bit late for that now.

The man approached slowly and carefully, and Nyx retreated in the same way, careful not to lose sight of the man or lose his footing. The he charged, and Nyx let out an involuntary gasp. He was fast, unfairly so, and Nyx's injuries would only hinder him if he tried to fight. So Nyx dove to the side, hissing in pain and trying to roll on landing to minimize any further damage. Then ensued something Nyx could only describe as a horrific kind of dance around the room. With the man on the offense, rushing at Nyx and attacking repeatedly and himself retreating, ducking and evading as fast as he could. Nyx would pride himself on managing to evade this man in particular for as long as he had but he was growing more and more tired, his injured shoulder was getting progressively worse, and at every turn his exit was blocked. There was no way he could keep this up in the long run. Then finally, Nyx thought he could see an opening. Cornered against the far-right wall of the room, Nyx readied himself again and ducked under and to the side of the man.

For one glorious moment he thought he had made it too, then something tugged harshly at his hair and he was yanked back. Nyx felt is back hit the wall behind him hard and let out a pained cry through grit teeth. A hand was quick to grab around his throat, and when Nyx instinctively pushed back against it, sharp dizzying pain shot out from his shoulder.

"As much as I've enjoyed our little cat and mouse game, I'm going to have to end it here glaive." The man started and tightened his grip on Nyx's throat until tears started prickling in the corners of his eyes and the edges of his vision grew blurry. Then something new came over his face and he loosened the grip just slightly. Something Nyx was grateful for as he coughed and wheezed in the grip. It looked almost like a flash of recognition or a realization of sorts had washed over the man's face, and his expression changed. It got somehow more dangerous. Like he had something planned, and Nyx did not like it. Then he spoke again, and his voice was lower, but no less dangerous. "Nyx Ulric. Of course it had to be you of all people giving me trouble, Hero of the Kingsglaive."

Those last words were almost spat at Nyx and his heart picked up its pace, but he was determined not to let that show. "Ah, so my reputation precedes me then!" he spluttered, putting on a defiant smile and somehow managing to sound way more playful and confident than he actually felt. In response the man put his other hand against Nyx's wounded shoulder threateningly, and before Nyx could protest or struggle hot glowing pain exploded down his side and arm. It radiated from his shoulder. Nyx's head jerked back. The smile dropped almost instantly from his face as he shut his eyes tight and groaned. He didn't open his eyes again until the pressure was let up, and the pain had calmed down to an uncomfortable warm throbbing. What met him then was a stone cold, calculated face, with the mouth twisted into a gross pretend-courteous smile.

"Pleasure." The man said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Then, with seemingly no warning except the slightest twitch to his face the man clenched his free hand into a tight fist and let it collide violently with Nyx's stomach. Nyx's eyes went wide on impact, but he couldn't see, the pain and shock reverberating through him was blinding. Without Nyx even realizing what happened his knees gave out and buckled under him, but the hand around his throat didn't budge. It kept him upright and firmly pinned to the wall as he gasped for air that wouldn't come. His vision was getting blurry, with the man's facial features swirling together into an unclear blob of colour. He felt himself being shook slightly, then a sharp pain across his cheek.

"Oh no no, you don't get to pass out just yet Hero." Nyx heard the man speak as if under water. The voice seemed unclear and far away, and he scrunched up his nose in effort, trying to focus on what was going on. "I can still-"

Then something happened that caught the man's attention, and he stopped talking. The blob that was his head turned. Nyx followed suit and saw more blobs entering the room, blurred swabs of black pooling in from the door. Then multiple things started happening all at once, leaving Nyx no time to be relieved that backup was finally there. Noise exploded through the room. Voices yelled over each other. Nyx was let go of, and with the only thing holding him up now gone he slid unhindered down to the floor, where he stayed. Clutching his shoulder and heaving for breath. Then there were sounds of a fight, and something in the back of Nyx's tired mind told him to get up and join in, but his body wouldn't do what he wanted it to. So he winced and instead opted for trying to gather himself and blink away the blurry edges from his vision.

It worked somewhat, and when two of the blobs broke off from the main blob group's fight and rushed towards him it didn't take him too long to see who it was. And finally, finally Nyx let the tension in his body go, and sighed heavily as Crowe and Libertus reached his side. He offered them both a tired smile and an attempted laugh that was interrupted by a coughing fit.

"Let me look at you," Crowe said as she knelt down next to him, not wasting time waiting for his response before moving Nyx's own hand away from his shoulder and examining it herself. "How is it?"

"Bad." Nyx said, cringing slightly as her hands moved over the throbbing shoulder. "Dislocated maybe?"

"Oh definitely, we're going to have to set it properly before using any potions. Can you manage until then?" Came her answer. Nyx sighed, but nodded. Of course he knew she was right. Crowe kept going, moving on from the shoulder after noticing the blood filtered through Nyx's hair. "And the head?"

"Fuzzy." said Nyx, no point in hiding that. He was managing, but now that the adrenaline was disappearing ignoring the throbbing pain became near impossible. Crowe clicked her tongue and sat back a bit to look him in the eyes.

"Should be fine." She said dryly. The she kept going, deeming Nyx's physical state good enough for her to jab at him. "Now, what was that! The hell do you have to go get blown up for?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Nyx laughed back. He looked up at Libs, who had been watching from the side with a worried crease to his brows, seeking verbal protection of some sort. But his friend just snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

"Jackass." Crowe said, finally letting her expression soften a bit. "Medical team's just outside, can you stand?"

Nyx sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn't entirely sure he trusted his legs to carry him, but he did give it a valiant try. Though as soon as Nyx was standing upright the world started spinning around him and Libertus rushed forward to steady him. They stood still like that for another short moment while Nyx breathed heavily to gather himself before Libertus asked if he was ready to go, and he nodded.

"So what'd you do to make that guy so angry?" Libs asked as they slowly and carefully made their way froward. He gestured his head towards the centre of the room, where the rest of the glaives they'd entered with were working on taking down the man Nyx had fought.

"Well, you know me and my dashing charms." Was Nyx's answer. He sent Libertus a smug smile, to which Libertus groaned and rolled his eyes.

"In that case I'm surprised the worst you got was a dislocated shoulder." He shot back, and Nyx laughed. A genuine laugh despite all the aches of his body.

"Oh, screw you-" He began cheerfully, but another coughing fit interrupted him.

"No, screw both of you," Crowe chimed in. She huffed and shook her head. Though Nyx could swear there was a small smile on her face as she joined in supporting Nyx on his other side, careful not to further aggravate the injured shoulder.

[fiftyshadesof-h]

Just One Secret (spencer x reader)

Summary: When y/n walks in on an exchange between Hotch and Emily she is forced to keep a secret that eats away at her and causes problems in her personal life.

Warning- Vomit, Smut, language, mentions of abuse.

Masterlist

“Hey Hotch, I just had a quick question.” You said moving your hand to Hotch’s office door, turning and opening it before thinking to knock. You opened the door quickly, your eyes widening, the file in your hand falling to the floor, the papers inside the folder scattering across the floor as you gasped.

“Oh my god. Oh my-” You quickly said slamming the door shut again, scrambling on your hands and knees to pick up the papers on the floor. Your breathing picks up as you hear muffled noise from inside the office.

Holy shit. That did not just happen. You couldn’t believe what you had just seen.

You looked up from your lowered position on the floor at the person who just opened the door. “Can you let me explain, please come in.” You shook your head rapidly. Standing up, you gently shoved the file into his chest, his hands struggling to grab the papers. You quickly turned around and headed towards the bathroom in a slow sprint.

You swung the bathroom door open, the air smacking you in the face before you turned back around to lock the door.

You dropped to the floor in front of the toilet,the impact of your drop on the cold tile sending a shock wave through your body ringing out of your ears, sending a bad feeling through your body. That feeling transformed into a burning that coats your throat. Your whole body reacted, your stomach tightening and relaxing as you let go of the searing pain from inside your body.

Secrets made you sick. Physically and mentally sick. You could keep a secret, but it would slowly and painfully eat away at you, you knew it would, that’s how it always happened.

You instantaneously rose to your feet, putting your hand up against the wall to help support the weight of your body. You moved your hands through your hair leaving the tips of your fingers in your scalp scratching it in a hectic matter.

What the fuck! I just saw my boss and… and Emily Prentiss. She was my friend right? One of my bestfriends she couldn’t mention that she was fucking the boss? Oh god.

So many thoughts were going through your head about this situation. You turned around letting out a huff of air as you turned around to face yourself in the mirror. Your clammy hands guide themselves up to the sink as you leaned forward towards the mirror. You cocked your head to the side looking attentively at your disheveled appearance. You looked down at your appearance in the mirror noticing one of your bottoms popped open, the button probably detaching itself when you were hurling into the porcelain toilet. Your hair is wild and unruly from your aggressive hand movements.

You brought your eyes back up to the eyes in your mirrored reflection thinking back to what you had just witnessed.

“Just like that.” Hotch said to Emily, his voice deeper and more demanding than normal. Hotch and Emily bent over the edge of his desk, the pair facing the wall away from the door. Hotch had his leg propped up, probably for better access. His movements are fast but… effective. You were surprised the whole building couldn’t hear Emily. His face turned towards you when you opened the door, his leg flying down quickly to the floor. He fumbled with his- himself quickly fastening his belt. Emily sat up and turned towards you, her eyes wide with surprise. She opened her mouth to start talking but you slammed the door immediately.

You didn’t think you saw that much, but now that you were thinking about it how long were you standing there?

“You in there?” You heard a very muffled Prentiss say through the bathroom door. You dropped your face into the palms of your hands groaning, you didn’t think you were quite ready to face them yet, or face them ever, ever again.

You stalked up to the door leaning in so she could hear you through the door. “Yeah, Em, just give me a minute.” You could hear the eye roll that just came off of her through the door. Something about that prompted you to quickly swing the door open. Your hand moving to rest gently on your hip, a frown occupying your face.

“Y/n, please just let me,” She took in a deep breath, her words wavering in the back of her throat like she was trying not to cry. “I need to explain.”

“I won’t say anything. I promise. Your secrets are safe with me, now let's not talk about this at work or better yet not talk about it at all.” You said cutting her off in a harsh tone. You moved forward trying to get out of the bathroom she had just cornered you in, but Emily didn’t move in fact she stood her ground giving you a modest smile. You jerked your head towards the rest of the team which had now shifted their attention towards the two females talking abnormally loud by the bathroom.

“It’s just one secret.”

She finally gave you enough passage to pass around her. You closed your eyes and rolled them behind your lids. You could not believe you had just seen that. Cursing yourself for not just asking the all knowing genius your question.

Once you got away from her you quickly found yourself in the round-table room stealing a spot next to Spencer Reid. Your hands drummed on the arm of your cool leather chair, Spencers’ attention was drawn to the increasing volume of your fidgeting.

He placed his hand right over yours, his hand curving over you fingers in a hold. He did that everytime he saw you overwhelmed and distressed. Whether it was in reassuring words, a hand on the knee to stop it from bouncing up and down, or this. You had to say that the hand-holding technique was your favorite so far, he couldn’t agree with you more.

Yours and Spencers relationship was rare, you couldn’t define it. What exactly the two of you were.

Friends, more than friends?

You wouldn't mind if Spencer wanted more.

You always thought back to the first time you walked into the room. Spencers' big, golden, amber eyes landing right on your own eyes.

“Hi, Nice to meet you. I'm y/n y/l/n.” A smile lit up across your face, parallel to the one on the man across from you. You reached your hand out to shake his. The man across from you hesitated, his eyes squinting and his eyebrows moving to the center of his face, scrunched together for a short second before his face returned to the original smile wiped across it.

“Oh baby, he’s not gon-” A buff man said from across the room but immediately stopped talking when the brown haired, beautiful, boy across from you reached out and shook your hand back.

A small laugh left your lips when he continued to look at you instead of introducing himself.

“This is usually the part where you tell me your name...” You said, the smile on your face never fluctuating. “Oh, yes of course, I’m uh Dr.Spencer Reid. You don’t have to call me Doctor just Spencer, or- or Reid is perfect with me. It’s great really.”

He gave you this exhilarating feeling inside your soul from the time you had first met him.

And he still gave you that feeling, I mean you got butterflies in your stomach everytime he walked in a room. It had been months and neither of us had said anything regarding the obvious feelings we have for each other yet. You knew you wanted to do it, and you knew you needed to do it soon.

You didn’t want to waste the rest of my life wondering what you could’ve had with Reid, you wanted to experience life with him.

Spencers’ thumb was rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand, the warmth of his skin sending you wanting for more. You turned around so you were completely facing Spencer, an amused look lighting up your face. It didn’t matter what emotion you were overwhelmed with, Spencer's face always made you feel better.

“Do you wanna come over tonight? Order in dinner or something…” You said questioning him. Tonight would be the night you told Spencer how you felt. Tonight would either break your heart or make it swell ten times bigger.

“Uh, uh.” Derek said tutting and swatting his finger back and forth. “It’s team dinner tonight, remember missy. You’re not getting out of it again.”

You groaned, it’s not that you didn’t like being with the team you just really wanted to spend tonight with Reid.

“How could I, you won’t let me forget Derek.” You sent the words out with a bitter twang on purpose. A laugh escaped from his throat as he turned back towards Penelope to finish talking.

“I uh- can’t come tonight.” Emily said speaking from behind you. You spun in your chair to look at her. Prentiss became uneasy when your eyes locked with hers.

Oh really? Are you gonna go screw your superior tonight or what? You thought, your eyes narrowing in Emilys’ direction.

“I’m also gonna have to skip out, I have lots of paperwork to do.”

Of Fucking Course he has work to do tonight. You thought.

You scoffed, the rest of the team looked over at your reaction.

Your mouth opened but before any words could flow out Emily spoke up, “Remember I told you about that thing tonight?” She said speaking directly to me.

“Yep. She told me I remember.” Just one secret she said.

---

“Hi.” You said with a beaming smile on your face after you opened the door to a very happy Spencer.

You invited Spencer over to your place after dinner with the team because you couldn’t hold this off any longer.

He had his hands pockets, his brown hair tousled on his head.

“Hello.” He said back. You moved back so Spencer could step through the threshold of your apartment.

You shut the door and he jumped at the noise. “Relax Spence, i’m not trying to kill you.”

He let out a breathy laugh, directing himself to the couch. As he sat his suit jacket ruffled, he took it off and slung it off the back of your couch. You watched as he delicately rolled the sleeves of his light purple button-up leaving his forearms exposed to the light.

Spencer let out a laugh that brought a rosey sheen of embarrassment to the apples of your cheeks. Your body folded in on yourself at the realization that he had just caught you staring at him.

“You gonna come sit by me or keep staring?” He said, raising one eyebrow up, a smirk on his face.

You walked over to him on the couch, your shin hitting the cushion before you folded it under the rest of your body to sit down. Spencer lifted his arm up to go behind your head as he motioned for you to lay down on his chest.

You leaned against him, his breathing picking up pace as you moved your hand up to his chest right next to your cheek.

“Spencer?” You said peering up to meet his gaze that was already on you. ‘Hmm’ he hummed the vibration in his chest making your body move gently.

“I have to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” You said, your gaze never wavering from his.

“Can I do something first?” Spencer said shifting his body, he lifted your head off of his body positioning you infront of him, you crossed your legs, letting your hands fall at the point where your ankles crossed. Spencer moved to sit directly in front of you in the same cross-legged position.

His right hand moved up to cup your cheek, the action catching you by surprise. He started to swipe the pad of his thumb against your skin. His eyes danced between your eyes and lips.

You knew what he was about to do and it scared you so bad. He must have felt the hesitation in your body because he waited for the timid nod you gave him before he leaned forward.

His whole body moving into yours as your lips met. It’s like the spark the two of you had felt your whole relationship were bursting into a plethora of fireworks before your eyes.

His hand moved under your thigh to lift you up onto his lap. You could feel him straighten his legs underneath your body, the hand on your thigh moved up to grasp your ass, the feeling making a gasp leave your mouth.

A laugh left his lips rolling onto your own. You smiled against him before you moved your hand behind his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss, threatening to move your hand up to his messy hair and give it a tug.

When you finally detached your lips from his own you looked at his face and appreciated all of his delicate features. The way his nose crinkled when he laughed just then at the goofy smile on your face made the butterflies in your stomach return.

You traced your thumb along his face, over his nose, over his cupid's bow on his pink and swollen lips, and then when you reached his bottom lip you let your thumb linger there for a moment.

“I’m so glad you did that.” You breathed out. Spencer's goofy smile returned on his face when he leaned forward and gave you a shorter peck on the lips, his hands moving further up your body till they wrapped around your waist.

“Ugh fuck!” You said starting to pull away from Spencers’ body when your phone started loudly ringing from the table beside you.

He tightened his grip around your body not wanting to let you go. “Nooo.” He whined, dragging out the word with a pout on his face. He looked so adorable you couldn’t help but give him another beck on the lips before you shook your head telling him you had to get the call.

He gave you an exaggerated ‘hmph’ before he finally let you climb off of his lap.

Incoming call: Emily Prentiss

You groaned as you read the name that lit up your phone screen.

“I’m- I uh gotta take this Spence. I’ll be right back I promise.” You said, giving him a small smile.

You slid the accept call button as you trudged to the other end of Spencers’ apartment so he couldn’t hear what you were about to say.

“What Emily?” You hissed into the phone.

“I had to tell you why. I need to explain it.” Emily said sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“Emily, I already told you, I’ll keep the secret. Just one secret right?” Just one secret she said.

“This isn’t just some fling y/n I promise you that.” She was struggling to spit the words out as she slowed her speech.

“Oh really? Then why were you fucking your boss? I saw it all! I saw way too much! I don’t think I can ever, ever unsee that. Not that you looked bad but I just- I didn’t need to see that.” You said at a hushed volume. You looked over at Spencer who was now sitting with his legs crossed as he skimmed through a book delicately.

You may have been mad at Emily but you weren’t going to insult her.

She let out a laugh on the other end before she silenced on the other end again. “I love him y/n. I-i love him so much.” She struggled to finish the words when her throat cracked.

“We love each other, we’ve been together for a while. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you guys he- he wanted me to keep a secret for the job's sake.”

She took a deep inhale, her voice wavering on the other side as she choked out the next words. “I don’t know what’d I’d do without him y/n he means everything to me.”

You nodded, knowing she couldn’t see you. You had no right to judge her. You knew what love could do to someone how crazy it could make you, the bad decisions it could cause.

“So please just know if I am so sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. All you could think of. Your own eyes stung with tears listening to her confession of love.

“Please say something else.” She begged.

“I understand Emily, I know what love can do to a person. It doesn’t mean I like this, the lying.” You said back to her.

“I know, I hate it too. We are gonna tell everyone I promise.”

“I’ve uh- gotta go, I hope you figure this all out.” You said hanging up the phone before she could say anything else.

“What was that about?” Spencer inquired as you walked back towards the couch. He leaned forward as he sat the book he was reading back on the table.

“Oh, just family stuff.” You said shrugging off your question.

Spencer was now sitting in a normal upright position, you gently climbed on top of him moving your legs so they were on either side of his thighs. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck before you let out a breath.

“You okay?” He said, his voice quieter than before. You could feel the words roll off his lips because of the proximity to your ear.

“I am now.” You said lifting your head up. You gave him a smile before moving in to give him another peck on the lips.

You nudge your nose against Spencers’ jaw as you planted another kiss to the slowly reddening skin of his neck. He let out a nervous laugh as you continued to shower his skin with kisses. You were giving him all the touches you never got to before.

“Hey y/n, there’s something else I've been dying to do.” You lifted your head away from his neck as a bright smile lit up across your face.

“Oh yeah?” The words left your lips, a smile going onto Reids’ face as he chuckled.

He cocked his head to the side with a smirk on his face. You gave him a fast peck on the lips in agreement to what he was suggesting. He lifted you up quickly, your legs still wrapped around his center as he carried you off, a giggle leaving your lips at his urgent walk towards your room.

You peeked your head up from his neck at the sound of him shutting the door, before you could prepare yourself Spencer was throwing you down on the bed and quickly climbing over you.

Spencer kissed you like he was famished, famished from your touch, from holding back so long.

You watched Spencer in amusement as you propped your body up in your elbows. Your smile faltered when you realized Spencer was backing away and back to standing on the floor beside the bed.

“Oh, don’t worry darling. I’m not done yet.” As quick as the words left his soft (now swollen) lips he was pulling you roughly towards the edge of the bed, your legs spread on either side of his body.

He stayed standing in between your legs for a moment admiring your beauty.

“Oh come on Spence.” You whined at him just wanting to be touched already.

“Stop being a needy one, can’t I just look how beautiful you are?” His response shut you up immediately, you could never take a compliment but coming from Spencer you actually believed it.

“I mean you could or you could touch me.” You said making the words go extra slow as you dragged your hand slowly up your body.

You grabbed at the hem of your shirt, your body begging to be freed.

You lifted your body up on your own to lift the shirt up off your head, your chest moving as you flopped back down on the bed, hair disheveled below you, a goofy grin on your face.

“I think… I like your idea better.” Spencer said shaking his head with a smirk.

You watched as his hand moved its way up your body, slow and teasing movements. He grabbed the hem of your shorts like someone else was about to come take them from his grasp. He quickly pulled them down your legs, followed by your underwear, your expensive black lace underwear that Spencer just ripped from your body.

At the sound of the fabric shrieking you reacted quickly. “Fuck Reid! Those were expensive!”

He didn’t care in fact he just chuckled with that stupid grin on his face. He lowered himself over your center.

“I’ll make it up to you baby.” He said just before he moved his lips to kiss your inner thigh, a light suction of his lips following after.

The sensation caused you to arch your back slightly. “I like when you call me that.” You said, your breathing staggered as Spencer continued to place kisses all over your body. “baby.”

“I want you Spencer. Now.” You said quickly before you could think. A sudden dominance taking over your body. You couldn’t wait any longer.

“Your wish I my command,”

---

Days later you were still thinking about the night, about Spencer’s lips on your body, the way it felt and the way he had you screaming his name all night, not caring about the other people that may be in the building.

You hadn’t realized it till recently but You and Spencer had been anticipating that moment for a long, long time.

You had both decided that the time spent apart was worth it.

You pulled yourself out of that dream of an evening and brought yourself back to the nightmare you were currently sorting through.

“It’s terrible you know,” You said, looking up towards Reid who was standing right next to you looking through the piles of notebooks and junk in the warehouse you were searching.

“These kids, these adults, were made out to be… evil.”

You and The Team were on a case hunting an unsub that had been kidnapping women and doing terrible, terrible things to them. His name was Andrew Carter, he had been recently released from a psychiatric prison after two petty assault charges… against women.

It’s a wonder people with those kinds of records can get released at all.

We had checked multiple locations before closing in on a warehouse that Carter spent most of his childhood in after hiding from his abusive grandmother, Angelica Carter.

His grandmother got custody of him after both of his, seemingly, loving parents died when he was young.

The couple got in a car crash with little Andrew in the back, they died right in front of him. You couldn’t imagine what kind of trauma that could cause an impressionable boy.

The whole time Gracia went over the suspicious e.r. visits people ignored in Andrews past, you could never wrap your head around why people could be so cruel to children or anyone. It just broke your heart, especially because you were so happy just a few days ago laying in bed with Spencer.

“Yeah…” Spencer replied to you, a somber look on his face. He looked like there was something else he wanted to say but he stayed quiet instead, flipping through the journals on the table looking for clues as to where Carter could be hiding.

The team had split up to search the warehouse, Prentiss and Hotch went to the opposite end of the building than the rest of the team. You were the first to break out in a run towards the gunshots, the rest of the team following closely behind you.

As you cornered the threshold you saw hotch huddled on the floor over Emily, who’s long black hair was a mess on the floor, blood seeping out from beneath her.

“oh my god.” You breathed out, unable to gage a real reaction.

“Emily, baby are you okay?” Hotch asked, tears clouding his eyes. Your eyes widened at the words baby, I don’t think Hotch realizes what he’s said until Morgan runs into the run falling to his knees beside Prentiss.

“Emily, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for this.” Derek said, a bewildered expression taking over his face. His dark eyebrows were scrunched up together.

You ran up to her just after Morgan landed there a hand immediately moving to her back.

“Fuck!” Emily screamed suddenly, everyone startled by the sudden noise.

“You shot me in my fucking foot Morgan! What the hell?!” You and hotch both let out the same relieved inhale. So Prentiss wasn’t about to die in front of you; she just got shot by Morgan’s “Shit aim.” You decided to stay not caring whether it was in your head or not.

Morgan moved away from Prentiss quickly, the tears in his eyes fading as his demeanor changed from somber to confident.

“He was getting away. I tried to shoot… the Unsub and, emilygotintheway” Derek says, speeding through the words as he blames Emily for his own mistake.

Your eyes didn’t leave Hotch and Emily the whole time Derek raised his voice explaining the situation. Hotch shifted so that he was now helping Emily hold her bleeding foot. He leaned forward and gave her a big, definitely noticeable kiss on the lips.

“Um where… might… is there a medic… Hey! you!” Your voice raised as you tried to draw the attention away from the (very cute) couple on the floor. “Where’s the medic ?” You yelled at a random officer he just shrugged his shoulders and you were tempted to flip him off.

Before you got the chance Spencer’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his hands on your skin immediately calming you.

It’s likeyour body involuntarily leaned against Reid’s body a smile starting to appear on your face.

“Oh come on! Everyone is shacking it up except me?” You let out a loud snort. The loud noise breaking through the silence you were going to be embarrassed but instead the whole lot of you broke out into a fit of laughter, it didn’t stop until Emily was being rolled into an ambulance to be treated for her foot.

Standing outside the building with Spencer watching the ambulance filled with Hotch, Emily, and a disgruntled Derek roll away you had a feeling of success brewing in your stomach.

You turned to face Spencer, his hands immediately found their way loosely held together behind you back, holding your bodies close to each other. The butterflies in your stomach returned when you saw the look of pure admiration on his beautiful face.

“You’re so beautiful Spencer.”

“Hey, that’s my line.” He said, letting out a laugh before he leaned down to kiss you. You met him half way from your tippy toes that you were currently standing on.

“Give me another kiss.” Spencer demanded.

You just walked closer to his chest, laying against it, Your other hand moved under his coat and on his back rubbing your hand along his warm body.

“Iwannagohomeafuckyou. likealot.” You murmured softly against his skin on purpose so he wouldn’t hear you.

A soft kiss was planted to the top of your head before the two of you headed home.

As soon as Spencer and you were far away from listening ears walking to your car Spencer’s hand connected with your ass in a playful slap, causing an unexpected yelp to leave your mouth.

Your hands immediately flew up to cover your mouth as you laughed underneath them.

“I heard exactly what you said. Dirty girl.”

A/N-thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) I was originally going to make this have an unhappy happy ending but I decided against it!

[remmushound]

Curse of the clan Part 23! @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz

The part of the cave Raphael was brought to was hot. Extremely hot. Hot enough to smack him in the face like a solid mass the moment the large door was opened and he was shoved inside. The floor He landed on was covered in red-hot rocks, making Raphael cry out as he danced from foot to foot to try and stop the burn. Even through his thick skin, the rocks were painful! He jumped out of the center, the space filled with the burning embers, and onto the safety of a small walkway that followed the walls of the room. He sighed as the coolness of the path, no matter how temporary. The door was sealed and lined where the walls met the floor, vents started to spew steam to into the room.

“Ah— guys— I don’t really think we need the heat on in here!” Raphael called to the door, but there was no answer. “Seriously— h-how hot do you like it?!”

The only answer he got was the hiss of even more steam. It was harder to breathe now through the heat and the humidity, but that was fine. He was a turtle— he could hold his breath for a long time! But with this controlled weather, it was almost painful. Raphael looked around and, except for the heat that still scalded him, he could find no challenge.

“Uh— guys? Though I was supposed to have a challenge in here. Hello?”

A door on the opposite side of the room hissed open and some of the steam escaped through it. Raphael waited for a moment before assuming he was meant to go through it, but he only had the chance to take a few steps forward before he was proven wrong. Something else was coming through; something far bigger than he was. Four hundred pounds of reptilian muscle lumbered through the door with a slow gait. The door sealed behind the creature once the length of his tail had passed through, and though Raphael couldn’t imagine the creature could get any bigger, he did.

The reptile stranger stood up straight, his chest stuck out to show the details of hardened scales, leading down into a body that, while it was slender, was also detailed with chiseled abs. The only clothes the creature wore to keep his decency, if he even had anything exposed, was a long red loincloth decorated with yellow and blue beads dangling between his legs. Hanging on a a rope necklace over his chest were teeth— sharp teeth, jagged teeth, sickle teeth, even human teeth!— none of them seeming to be from the same creature. He was gray— no, not gray, blue! Or was it both? It was hard to tell through the steam that quickly filled the room again.

“H-hey! Don’t step on those— rocks…?” Raphael’s call of warning quickly turned to bewilderment as the massive lizard stepped over the burning coals like they were nothing. Couldn’t he feel them? Even on the walkway, Raphael could still feel their emulating heat!

At first, the wingless dragon approached him slowly, a forked blue tongue dancing in and out of his mouth to draw in Raphael’s scent. Earthy, red eyes dilated and locked onto Raphael while a massive tail, the very tip of it torn off and scarred, thrashed behind the beast. The dragon fell to all fours and charged before Raphael could do anything about it, parting a broad mouth filled with yellowed teeth ready to snap.

Raphael yelled. He caught the beast by its maw as it lunged, but the creature only gave a churring laughter at the resistance. His tongue stuck out to trace across Raphael’s face, tasting his sweat and tears.

Raphael’s veins bulged with the strain of holding the bigger creature away. He found himself missing his tonfa more than ever when tiny, but sharp, teeth finally found a hold in his bicep. Raphael screamed. The moment the great beast tasted the blood, his eyes went cloudy and he withdrew from Raphael to return to the hot rocks, licking his lips and trying remove the powerful taste of the mutagenic blood. When that didn't work, he tried to swipe it out of his mouth using his oversized hands.

Raphael ran forward, preparing himself for the burn and giving a shout as he scooped a handful of the hot coals into his hands. He angled and threw the coals at the dragon’s face. The coals hit home in his chest and his eye, and a few in his mouth. The dragon’s eyes went wide, looking down at the scorching stones cauterizing the same wounds they had caused. His mouth snapped shut upon the red stones, nose scrunching, and his left eye had closed itself from the debris of the impact.

“Ha! Take that!”

The dragon looked at Raphael with his good eye, and then closed the eye to swallow. Raphael could see the lump that followed the passage of the gulp and, for additional proof, the dragon opened his mouth to show new burns inside with the absence of the coals.

“Wait, that’s not allowed.” Raphael gulped.

The dragon gave a shrug, and then lunged into the battle once more. Raphael was ready for him this time, dodging between the giants legs and running across the stones. The dragon caught himself on the wall and pushed off of it to pursue Raphael. The snapping turtle dodged for as long as he could until the pursuing yokai had him cornered. The dragon took a moment to savor the mutants terror before he charged. Raphael could do nothing but hold his arms out in front of him to absorb the impact, slamming them into the dragons chest to hold him and his snapping jaws at bay. Jaws…

Raphael licked his own teeth, serrated edged built for ripping and tearing meat. He was a snapping turtle! When teeth are all you have left, you use them. And Raphael did. He lunged and sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of the dragon’s shoulder. He listened to what his body was telling him and shook his head in violent, jerking motions to rip further through the scales and into the soft flesh beneath.

The dragon roared. He grabbed Raphael by the shoulder and pulled him off. Raphael felt muscle and scale rip from the dragon and in his mouth as he was forced to part. He was slammed against the ground hard enough to bounce back up, and when he did he was met with a powerful lash of the titans tail that sent him flying into the opposite wall. He tried to flip over in a position ready to fight off the yokai again. He was too late.

The dragon’s mouth locked around Raphael’s throat, snapping closed. Raphael froze, squeezing his eye shut to prepare for the crushing he was sure was about to happen. But it never came. Instead, when Raphael opened his eyes, the dragon was slowly removing his mouth without leaving so much as a tooth mark in the mutant’s neck. He slammed his hand down hard on Raphael’s head to keep him in a pin, leaning down slowly to rasp in his ear.

His voice was deep and rumbling, like a living embodiment of an earthquake. “You do not have the King’s blessing…”

***

Raphael felt defeated. How could he lose— how could he fail his brothers?! He should have fought harder— fought longer! If that had been a real fight, if that komodo dragon had really wanted to kill him, Raphael would have been done for! And his family wouldn’t have even known what happened to him! His burns and bites still stung, and the rush of the air didn't help matters. He tried not to look down.

Claws were locked securely around his chest and hooked under his arms, like a tight harness. The claws belonged to the falcon Koya as she flew Raphael through the Hidden City air, mechanically produced wind buffeting her feathers and chilling Raphael to his core. He hated being cold.

Raphael tried to talk to the falcon, but his voice was lost in the wind. Even if she did hear him, Raphael doubted she would have responded. Her eyes were focused ahead of her, not paying any mind to the creature she had locked in her talons. Her wingspan was even more impressive out in the open than it had looked in the cave when Raphael first seen her; she could fly and maneuver freely here, and she was fast too! So fast that it took them only minutes to escape the main heart of the Hidden City and enter a section of city Raphael had never seen before; he used the term city loosely, however. He could see the scaffolding where buildings had undoubtedly once stood; some were still standing, becoming a breeding ground for various plants to take seed, while other buildings were completely swallowed by swampland.

“Sorry kid.” Was all Koya said to him as she dropped him off on a half-sunken building. Raphael opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but by then she had already gone, and Raphael was alone.

Slowly, meticulously, Raphael made his way down to what used to be the sidewalk but now, like everything else in the section of city, it was lost to a whole host of strange plant life. Raphael sank up to his ankle in mud, wincing and struggling to pull his feet out of the squishy, grossly warm suction.

“What is this place…?”

He gave a startled yelp and fell back against one of the more stable buildings when he heard a low, reverberating bellow. Searching for an enemy, his eyes found only a frog. Its color was an odd shade, more blue than green, with one eye drooping while the other seemed mostly normal. The frog itself was impossibly gaunt, skin seeming to melt off of the defined bone. Raphael felt immediately sad for the creature. When he moved close to it, the frog didn't seem to care. Even as he picked the creature up, the frog only stared, the occasional bellow the only proof it was still living.

“Hey little guy… you look hungry.”

Raphael couldn’t imagine why! Only a few feet away was a massive swarm of buzzing insects! How could this creature be starving when there was so much food around? Still, he carried the frog over to the swarm and held him up to it hoping the creature would at least try to eat! But the frog only stared at the swarm for an uncomfortably long time before Raphael finally realized he was wasting his time. He placed the frog gently in the shallow water, but the frog made no attempt to swim. Simply… floating. Raphael figured it might have been sick, and leaving it behind almost broke his heart.

“I gotta figure out here I am.” Something weird was dancing in Raphael’s chest. Normally by now, the solitude would have driven him to his black-out state, but he felt nothing. None of the normal, preceding signs of tightness or suffocation or sickness. He felt just… fine. Following the sidewalk, he came across an intersection where all but one of the street signs were covered with black grafiti. The one sign that wasn’t completely blacked out still had the initial street name covered, but had a new one stamped over it; the letters were pressed together so closely they were hard to read, but Raphael did his best.

“The Fog Lands…?” Raphael read outloud. He looked around at the fog and nodded; that seemed about right. He didn’t notice the R pressed between the F and O.

Further down the road, trying to find a way out of the dismal swamp, Raphael yawned. His fight with King had left him exhausted! And it had only been two days, he told himself, so he had enough time to rest! His brothers could wait anyway; he deserved a break! He started off looking for someplace comfortable to rest his head, but his muscles began to weigh so heavy on him that the sidewalk seemed the perfect place to lay down and rest, just for a few hours...

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part Fourteen of ??)

Hey everyone! I hope you’re all having a good New Year so far! I have a bit of an update after the chapter for y’all.

Edit: Oop! I forgot the link to Part One for any new people! My bad!

Tags (ily all!):  @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (as always, if you’d like to be put on the tags list, juust let me know in a comment down below, or a DM)

Word Count: 1,961

TW: None? I’m pretty sure?

Mc didn’t know what she was expecting from the song Satan’s brothers pressured him to play, but a gorgeous melancholic love song was not it, though she should have guessed it was a love song from the title. She was entranced from the first couple notes, and the lyrics pulled her in further. They spoke of someone experiencing love for the first time, though they were afraid of their Love fading away and leaving them. She smiled at the cat lyrics, finding herself not surprised Satan would write about them. He seemed like a cat lover, though she had no real basis for the belief.

 Satan’s singing voice was just as nice as his speaking voice and she found herself impressed. It also held a lot of emotion, enough that she was surprised it didn’t affect his singing. Though she had never heard the song before, it seemed extremely familiar. Though, it was a fairly universal concept, so it probably just seemed she’d heard it before. She hadn’t realized she was crying until Mammon offered her a handkerchief. When he finished, everyone clapped, and he started on another song.

“I never thought I’d hear tha’ song again,” Mammon spoke to Mc in a low voice.

“Why?” she asked.

“Oh… Uhhh… Well, it’s about a lost love of his. Once she… disappeared… He played it one more time and then said he’d never play it again.” 

Mc felt her throat constrict a bit at the revelation, “He must be doing better then. When he got his next… lover, he probably started feeling better.”

“He… Uhhh... '' Mammon floundered for words, and Mc found herself eagerly awaiting his next words, “I don’ think he’s dated anyone before or since her. If nothin’ else, she is his firs’ and only love.”

“Did she hurt him?”

“Huh?”

“I just ask because I’ve seen a lot of people, well, humans, who had relationships go sour and closed themselves off emotionally. I was just wondering if that’s what happened to him.”

“Not… Not exactly… She was human and she… died…” Mammon seemed really anxious at this point, and Mc decided not to push the subject further.

A human? Really? Well, that adds another layer to the song. It’s the most permanent level of “leave” there is. He knew going into the relationship it would end. But… If she had been corrupted enough by him, wouldn’t she have gone to the Devildom? Then they could’ve been together… Does that mean she went to the Celestial Realm? Do I know her? Or… Did she get stuck as a wanderer? Either way, why would he play it now? Mammon said he’d sworn off playing it ever again… The questions swirled around in her head as she watched Satan play.

“Ooooo! Ooooo! My turn!”

“Asmo, you can’t play piano,” Satan sighed, already getting up.

“But I can play music off of my DDD now can’t I?” Asmodeus said, waltzing up to what had become a stage.

As Asmo scrolled through what Mc could only assume was his list of songs, Satan came and stood next to her. Mammon even moved over so he could. Mc gave him a small smile and then turned her attention back to Asmodeus, who was gushing about the song he’d found to sing. She was still thinking about all the unanswered questions she had when she felt a breath next to her ear “What did you think?”

Mc almost jumped, but instead found herself glued to her chair, “Of the song? Or your singing?”

“Hmmm… Both.”

“You play and sing wonderfully. The song was beautiful. I could really feel your emotions.”

“Thank you,” Mc felt Satan retreat back to a standing position, and she found she missed his presence.

A huff from the other side of the room caught her attention. Looking over, she caught the tailend of Michael watching Satan with narrowed eyes before turning back to Asmodeus. How strange.

When Asmodeus finished, Lucifer was both begged and forced to play by those in the room. While Mc had to admit he was definitely in a league all his own, she found herself preferring Satan’s playing to Lucifer’s. She cocked her head slightly at the realization.

“Excellent Lucifer! Just exquisite!” Diavolo boomed, giving the Avatar of Pride a standing ovation, “I can’t remember the last time I heard you play!”

“Well, it has been awhile,” Lucifer smiled. His pride seemed to have recovered enough he could properly interact with people again. Mc was happy she was able to avert a crisis, not interested in finding out how a brawl between Michael and Lucifer would go. Though… Would either of them actually get into a physical altercation?...

Mc was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize the brothers were leaving until they were all asking if she would come to the House of Lamentation at some point.

“... And I would love to paint your nails,” Asmo prattled on, grabbing her hands, “And I know the Devildom’s lack of light can make your skin lose some of its radiance, but I have a moisturizer that can help with that. Oh and-”

“Asmo, come on! Ya want Mc to come visit or not?” Mammon interrupted,

“Mammon, you don’t understand the nuances of keeping yourself looking perfect.”

“Uh, yes. I do. I’m a model. Ya been smellin’ too many of ya fancy products and it’s melted ya brain?”

“I think you’re thinking of yourself, though it was probably when you were trying to con those witches into buying acid, and you drank some.”

“Oi! How do ya know about that?”

“Ugh, there they go again,” a head rested itself on Mc’s shoulder, and she almost jumped until she saw who it was, “Seriously though Mc. You should come over.”

“Yeah. You’re even welcome to bring Luke,” the one brother who she hadn’t talked to added, “Barbatos told me he’s gotten even better at baking.”

“Of course I’ve gotten better at baking! I’m also very good at cooking too,” Luke said, having joined the conversation.

Mc watched at Beelzebub, which is who she figured he must be through the process of elimination, actually started drooling, “Does that mean you’re actually going to come over then?”

Luke smiled fondly, a look Mc wasn’t sure she’d have ever thought he could have for a demon, “If you’d like Beel, I could probably make that happen.”

Beel rushed over to Luke and pulled him into a huge hug. Belphegor removed himself from Mc, walking over to Beelzebub, “Beel, you need to let go of the chihuahua or he’s going to suffocate. Luke can’t make you food if he’s been squished.”

“I’m sorry. I hope these idiots haven’t been bothering you too much.”

“Not at all Lucifer. They were just inviting me over sometime.”

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” Lucifer said, starting to gather his brothers.

“You are welcome anytime you want to come over,” Satan’s voice came from behind her.

“I… Thanks. I would really like that.”

“Satan! We’re leaving.”

“I’m coming Lucifer,” Satan called, rolling his eyes, then back to Mc with a smile, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Mc called after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc sat in her room hours later, the events of the evening still running through her head. Though she knew Michael wouldn’t approve, she found herself much more at ease and even happier around them than she did around most angels. There was a non-judgmental kindness they all exuded (well, all except Lucifer) that made her feel like she belonged. She found herself excited about the prospect of spending more time with them at the House of Lamentation. She had to laugh a bit, the fact she didn’t fit in with the rest of the angels never more clear than it was now. 

Simeon had told her his time in the Devildom had been extremely enjoyable, the less structured lifestyles if the Devildom a welcome change from the Celestial Realm. She had read his work from that time and it was obvious he had felt a lot more creative in the Devildom, even though he had school responsibilities at the time. While she hadn’t doubted his words, she had always figured the change was mostly due to the fact he had been able to communicate with his lost brothers again. Now she understood what he had been talking about. 

Simeon generally gets along with the other angels too. What would they all say if they found out I prefer the company of the Fallen to them? Everything is just more natural with them. It’s almost like I already know who they are, as strange as that sounds. Especially Satan, though I’ve felt connected to him since I got his letter. Speaking of which, who was it that he mentioned? Lil… Lilly? Lillah? Lillian? Hmmm… I can’t remember. I do know I’ve never heard that name before. Whoever it was seemed to have a great impact on all of the brothers. It can’t be someone they Fell with. I’ve read all the literature about the Fall and I don’t recognize the name. Though there’s a lot about the Fall the Celestial Realm doesn’t talk about. But... Simeon’s also never mentioned anyone with that name before… Maybe it’s time for me to do some more research.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc stretched, and checked the time on her DDD. She had been in Diavolo’s personal library for over three hours, and she still hadn’t found any mention of the mysterious “L” person. She found plenty of references to Lucifer though. It seemed he and his brothers had been instrumental in helping Diavolo establish order when the old King had started his slumber. What caused this slumber, why it happened, or if it would end was not covered. Mc wanted to research the topic further, but she couldn’t get distracted until she had answered her initial question.

There was a knock at the door, and Barbatos came in carrying a teacup on a saucer, “I thought you might be in here.”

“Oh, hello Barbatos.”

The butler entered the room, and set the tea down on the table Mc was studying at, “I thought you might like some tea.”

“I would actually, thank you. If you would like to, you can take a seat.”

“I suppose that’d be alright,” Barbatos smiled, and sat down in a chair. His eyes glided across the books strewn around Mc, “You’ve got some heavy reading here.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure something out,” Mc sighed, sipping her tea.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

“Maybe, though I don’t remember what it is I’m looking for exactly,” Barbatos simply cocked his head slightly until she continued, “Satan was telling about… Well, a personal experience, and he mentioned someone. I don’t remember their name, but it was someone very close to all the brothers and they had passed away. I was just trying to figure out who it was.”

“You seem very interested in this person,” Barbatos’ tone wasn’t accusatory, but he seemed to expect and answer.

“... I guess I’m just trying to understand them better. Him better,” The last part slipped from Mc’s mouth easily, surprising even her.

“I think I may know who you’re talking about. If I’m correct, you won’t find any references to her in these books. It’s not my place to explain the situation to you however. You should probably go speak with the brothers about her…” the butler paused for a second before continuing, “I believe Michael also knows a lot about the situation, though he doesn’t know the full story,” with that, he got up and pushed his chair in, “I must continue with my duties, but I appreciate the short reprieve. Good night.”

“Night,” Mc called after him. Huh. Michael knows?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fifteen

 I wanted to let you all know that as it is January, ever since 2014 the first moth of the year has been terrible for me. So far, we are 3 days into 2021, and I have already gotten a near constant tooth ache meaning I’m going to have to go to the dentist, and have gotten sick. I don’t know what else this month has in store for me, but I just wanted to warn you all, if my updates get sporadic or short, that’s why 😬 

[hi-hey-haechan]

78+107 with Taeyong please? Thank you!!!

Thank you for requesting! Taeyong has been bias wrecking me so hard lately, and writing this definitely increased the bias-wrecking.

78: “Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.”

107: “Your ass is gonna be seven shades of red after that little stunt”

Warnings: dom!Taeyong, sub!reader, spanking, unprotected sex. Also, I kinda got carried away...it’s a bit long

The both of you were fairly vanilla with your antics in the bedroom, and you liked it best that way. Taeyong was always so gentle with you. When he was dominant, he was so soft, kissing you gently and intent on making you feel good. There were other times when you were more dominant, teasing him lightly, loving the sounds that spilled from his lips.

The only problem was the fact that you two weren’t often rough. You were once or twice, acting as “makeup sex.” You were completely submissive to him at those times, which was what you had wanted. Admittedly, seeing Taeyong angry was hot, and it was a total turn-on when he acted a bit rougher with you.

You wanted to be a brat for him, though. You wanted him to punish you, to overstimulate you until tears ran down your face. But you were not gonna submit to him easily.

The only difficulty was figuring out how to do this. You needed to make him jealous...but how?

When you came up with a plan, the boys were all over at your place to watch a movie. It was hot outside, so you had an excuse to wear a short pair of shorts and a cropped top that was tight, showing off your chest and stomach. Taeyong had made it clear on multiple occasions that you in this outfit did things to him. Now, not only would it do things to him, but it would also make him so jealous if other members saw you dressed like that, as well.

When Taeyong and the boys arrived, your boyfriend walked up to you, placed a hand on the small in your back, and kissed you gently. It was just a kiss hello, and his lips were feather-soft against yours, lingering for a few seconds. When he pulled away, your lips were curved into a small grin. He looked gorgeous, with his hair messy and soft, and his face being absolutely gorgeous without him trying.

Taeyong did a double-take when he saw your outfit. He noted how your shirt accentuated every ridge and curve of your torso. He could see most of your legs thanks to your shorts, which were also making your ass look amazing, to him.

You noticed how his eyes frantically scanned around the room, where the boys were jumping on the couch, yelling, or running to the kitchen to raid the fridge. Donghyuck, however, was standing not-too-far away, and he was looking at you. Just as you had instructed him to do.

You and Donghyuck were close, and to see how jealous Taeyong could get, Donghyuck agreed to sort of hit on you. Taeyong’s eyes glared at Donghyuck with a chilling, piercing stare -- but to no avail. Donghyuck’s eyes would not stop scanning your body, like it was a piece of meat.

On the couch, watching a movie, you were wedged between Taeyong and Donghyuck, feeling heat coming from both of them. You were cuddling, snuggling into his shoulder while his arms were around you in a warm embrace. Your head laid on his shoulder, and his head leaned against yours. His hair briefly tickled your forehead and temples, but you weren’t complaining. You loved this so much.

Donghyuck, sitting on your right side, had his hand on your bare knee. You were glad Taeyong hadn’t noticed, or else he’d become extremely possessive, above all else.

As the movie continued, there were funny parts at which you and the group’s maknae were laughing about, as though you were sharing a joke. You hadn’t spared a glance at your boyfriend the entire movie, really, and he felt slightly conflicted. His heart kind of hurt initially, wondering if you were just talking to Donghyuck because you were tired of Taeyong.

When he looked down at your knee, he almost lost it. He saw Donghyuck smirk before sliding his hand further up your leg, lightly squeezing your thigh. You looked up at the boy and locked eyes, seeing both of you smirk at Taeyong’s probably obvious distaste.

What neither you nor Donghyuck had expected was when Taeyong released his embrace of you and stood straight up.

“Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.” You’d never heard Taeyong speak like that, so firmly and angrily, his voice legitimately threatening.

“She doesn’t belong to you, either,” Donghyuck pointed out. He, too, was a total brat, and in this case, if it Tae more riled up, you were all for it.

When Taeyong gestured towards the door, Donghyuck knew what to do. Slowly, he left the building, waving to you and saying, “Bye, Y/N,” in the process, to provoke Taeyong to the max.

“The rest of you, out.” Your boyfriend, the leader of 127, ordered harshly. “I need to remind Y/n of why she can’t flirt with other guys.”

On their way out, you heard a joking “Use protection!” a quip that probably came from Johnny. You laughed a bit, but all you received from your usually soft boyfriend was a glare. His eyes were black, and there was a prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Had just jealousy impacted him that much?

“What’s the safe word?” he asked you as soon as the front door shut. Despite you two not often going rough, he’d made you have a safe word ever since your very first time, and he made you repeat it each time you had sex.

“Mango.”

“Good, now, care to tell me what the hell that was? You, wearing this outfit, flirting with Donghyuck, letting him feel you up like that? “

You had nothing to serve as your excuse, your explanation. You couldn’t bring yourself to say, “I wanted you to punish me, so I flirted with another guy.” As a result, you stayed silent.

“Strip,” Taeyong ordered in a deep, dominant voice, the one with which he’d rap like there was no tomorrow. “Your ass is gonna be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.”

Did he just threaten to spank you? Was this really happening? “And if I don’t?” You didn’t think it would get this far, so you hadn’t come up with a plan that would provoke him to the max.

His eyes locked with yours, and his were so dark and intense that you looked away. Screw you and your indifference to his orders. When he said, “You are NOT going to be a brat today,” you didn’t know how to react. “You’re acting like this on purpose,” he realized out loud. His voice deepened a bit, husky, laced with obvious desire.”You want me to do this to you. You want to see how riled up I can get before I snap.”

He was completely right about that, about how you wanted him to punish you and ruin you. “Well, how about you tell me exactly what you’re going to do to me?” you proposed.Your panties in that moment were embarrassingly wet, turned on by Taeyong’s unshattering dominance.

His jaw clenched, and Taeyong turned around and grabbed your wrists, pinning you up against the wall with your hands above your head. His lithe body was pressed flush against yours, allowing you to feel his erection pressing against the lower part of your stomach. This only made you needier.

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do to you?” He grinded his hips against you, providing himself some friction, and only arousing you further His lips were right next to your ear, and the words he spoke were hisses, the rumble of his deep voice having an effect on you. His hot breath hit your ear, and if felt so intimate yet so dirty. His hot lips were ghosting the skin and cartilage of your ear, brushing against you so lightly whenever he’d so much as speak. “I’m gonna spank you so many times that your ass will be decorated in shades of pink and red. I’m gonna pound into you so hard that you’ll be screaming my name, and then you won’t be able to walk for the next week. I’m gonna overstimulate you until you’re crying.”

At his words, you whimpered -- actually whimpered, without actually meaning to. You mentally cursed at yourself for submitting so easily to him, but everything he was saying -- god, you wanted that so badly. So much for continuing your act as a brat.

Taeyong practically dragged you to the bedroom, and he sat down on the bed, glaring at you. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and strip for me, or will I have to do it myself?”

Wordlessly, you pulled your cropped top over your head. You then unzipped your shorts, sliding out of them, leaving you in just your bra and panties. You wanted to be a tease, but you had to admit that you were just as eager for Taeyong’s punishment as he was.

Taeyong was sitting on the edge of the bed, palming himself through his jeans. His jaw was set and his eyes were dark, only turning you on even further. You unclasped your bra, sliding it off of you, and then finally removed your panties, which were soaked. You needed him inside of you right then and there, but he was not going to give you what you wanted so easily.

“Remember your safe word.” He then beckoned for you to come closer to him, and positioned you so you were laying on his legs perpendicularly. His bare hand came down to rub the skin of your ass. “Count,” he ordered, his voice deep..

His hand came down harshly on your ass. It stung, and your back arched a bit. You gasped at the sudden pain, which somehow was pleasurable. You’d wanted this for so long. The pain was fresh and stinging, but some part of you enjoyed it, basking in the sharp feeling of just a single spank. You choked out a “one,” right after his hand had come down, just as he ordered. To soothe the pain, he rubbed the stinging skin a bit, which was a bit pleasurable.

He continued, the his actions bringing immediate pain and them some pleasure, and he caressed the stinging skin following each slap. You cried out, the pain sharp, but it was an addicting kind of sting. After ten spanks, which felt more like 50, he was finished.

He looked down and admired his work, your ass red from the harsh pain he’d inflicted. Gently, he rubbed the red, stinging skin, attempting to ease the pain. You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling yourself become more relaxed after that.

“On your back,” he ordered, and he quickly pulled off his shirt. For a second, you couldn’t help but admire his beautiful physique. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, followed by his boxers. His member sprung free, the tip red and dripping with precum. You felt a twinge in your stomach, like a string down to your core. Your pussy was pounding with heat, and you physically needed him inside of you.

Without hesitation, Taeyong slammed into you, causing you to cry out. Your fingernails scratched down his back, trying to anchor yourself in the midst of the sharp intrusion of his length and the pleasure that was felt through your entire being. He was usually so gentle, as opposed to letting his own desire lead. Now, however, his rough side and anger were quite prominent.

As soon as he first entered, his pace was fast. You had sworn that his dancer’s hips would one day be the death of you during sex. And today, when he was snapping his hips sharply in and out of you, you were flying so high in the sky, all you knew was him.

You were only conscious of his smooth skin, and the way it burned under your touch wherever your bodies met. You were only conscious of his moans and heavy breathing, and how deep they sounded, making you more and more wet by the second. All you were aware of was how he moved inside of you, stretching you out and hitting your sweet spot.

“If you want it rough,” he panted, “I’ll give it to you rough.”

His hips snapped in and out of you rapidly, causing you to see stars. Your stomach twinged whenever he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer and closer to your edge. The curves of your fingernails cascaded down the smooth skin of his back, digging into the surface in an attempt to anchor yourself. There would be marks there tomorrow, but you knew he’d love them.

You were a moaning mess under him, unable to contain the sounds coming from your mouth when he was making you feel this good.

He was moving at an inhuman pace; the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your clenching walls was incredible. Taeyong’s hands were linked with yours, otherwise they were tangled in your hair. The sensation hit you wave after wave, repeated stimulation to the same incredible spots deep inside you.

The room was filled with the sounds of Taeyong’s low grunts and your moans and whines, as well as the sound of skin slapping against each other, with your wet pussy hitting against his hips harshly. “Taeyong, fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum, shit,” you whimpered, all in one breath.

You clenched around him as your high crashed down on you. You scratched on his back again as you cried out incoherent words and curses. This was the most extreme orgasm you’d ever had, and your legs shuddered. Your walls caved in on themselves. You felt so impossibly good, high on pleasure.

But he didn’t stop. He fucked you through your high and continued on afterwards, still having not cum yet.

“T-taeyong, please, I c-can’t take it,” you let out in a high-pitched, breathless moan.

“You’re gonna fucking take it,” he hissed, and his hand came down on your ass cheek once as he continued to thrust into you, despite your high. “This is what you asked for when you flirted with Donghyuck.”