#I really thought 3rd year would go more in-depth! that's why I took it!

[keeganbee]

lmao so my advanced abnormal psych class is off to a terrible start

prof just posted syllabus 24 hours before first class (should have posted it at least 2 days ago. how am I supposed to read all this shit by tomorrow when I have other work to do??)

prof will not provide lecture slides, you are fucked if you miss class for illness/emergency

recording lectures, even for personal use, is not allowed, fuck you if you're disabled

the textbook is the same as the intro level class, meaning I've already read it all a year ago, and the only new info will likely be in the 4 seminars we do

university is such a god damned joke sometimes. a class about cognitive/social/emotional outliers and it's the least accessible class I've had in 3 years of school. at this point I'm assuming the prof will just call me a retard when I ask for accommodations for my documented disability

[38sr]

How did you got into marvel?

Hmmmmm, I guess I can answer this question now that I'm no longer working at Marvel. Before I begin, I want to preface that how I got to Marvel was very much a right time, place, fit and people situation. I don't think I would have been able to work on Spider-Man: Freshmen Year if it weren't for the genuine relationships I had built in the industry way before the production even started (or really pitched to Marvel in the first place). I go into more detail about networking and building vertical and horizontal relationships in depth in this previous ask. And with that, let's begin. So this story goes way back in March 2021 when I was going into my 3rd month as a storyboard revisionist for Critical Role: Legend of Vox Machina season 2. I had been DMed by a director I seriously admired and they asked me if I would interested in working on a sci-fi adventure show that would premiere on a streaming platform. I was so stoked. I thought, "Holy cow, I love this person's work and they actually looked at my stupid doodles and want me on their production????" So I say yes, go through the interviews, get the details of the show, etc. etc. Until we get to the actual job title they wanted to give me....which was a revisionist. I was kind of bummed out that they offered a revisionist role and not a board artist. At that point, I was a revisionist for almost a year and a half and I felt like I learned everything that I could in the position. But they persuaded me that being promoted is a possibility so I took what I could get (which I learned later is not always a good thing to do for yourself). I knew that I would be on CritRole until July and then switching back to Star Trek: Lower Decks season 3 until December of that year. I had no other job prospects beyond that so I said yes. But even though I said yes, it just didn't feel....right to me. And I should have listened to my gut at that time. Fast forward to end of July 2021. I wrapped up on CritiRole and went back home to NY for my birthday before starting Lower Decks S3 in two weeks. During that time, I had an assistant director over at Marvel contact me (we had worked together a year prior on a short pilot for an action show). They asked if I would be interested working on the new X-Men animated series as a board artist and---I said no. Yeah, I said no to Marvel. It wasn't because I didn't want to work on X-Men just 'cause. The start date conflicted with my start date for Lower Decks S3 and I just really enjoy the crew and production of that show and wanted to go back for another season. They understood and wished the best of luck for me. Although I won't lie that I was thinking about it a lot afterwards 'cause they had offered a board artist position....but what was done was done. So I go back to vacay mode. Until a few days later, I receive an email from Marvel Recruiting if I would be interested in working on an upcoming animated series. At that time, I thought the recruiter was talking about X-Men when she was actually talking about a whole different production. And granted, I can't be mad at the recruiter 'cause Disney is very lock and key with their productions. So me being dumb and not realizing it could have been a different project, I said no. Again. Yes. I did not say no to Marvel once , but TWICE. So fast forward to September 2021. I'm on Lower Decks S3 as a revisionist again. When suddenly, I get a DM from a friend inquiring me about when I would be done on Lower Decks. I tell him, " Oh, my last day is in December. Why, is the show you're on looking for board artists?" And then he proceeds to tell me that he actually left the production he had been on for 3+ years as a writer and is show-running his own show at Marvel. You've probably figured out by now this person was Jeff Trammell. Widely known for his work on Craig of the Creek (and many other productions haha) and the creator/head writer of Spider-Man: Freshman Year. We had met way back in March 2020 right before quarantine had begun and kept in touch in through social media over the years. Nothing big really, tweet here and there, comment here and there when we saw each other's work and such. I was honestly baffled. I had absolutely no idea that he moved to Marvel or had his own show there. But more importantly, this was the third time Marvel reached out to me about work. So I tell my older sister and she proceeded to push me into taking an interview with them. I really have to thank her for that haha. So I go into the interview, only with plans to hear them out and learn about the project. And then one interview led to another, and then another, and then another....until it dawns upon me: Holy crap. I...I don't think I can pass on this opportunity.

I wholeheartedly believe that I would have regretted passing on Jeff's show. The people I would work with, the project itself, and they offered me a board position not revisionist. In the interviews, it genuinely felt like they wanted me as a board artist and wanted to help me learn/grow on the production. It just...it just felt so right and I wanted to do it. But I was signed onto that sci-fi adventure show that would start when Spider-Man did. And in that moment I learned a huge lesson about job hunting in animation: Don't always jump at the first thing that presents itself to you. Learn about the project, your potential crew mates and take the time to think about whether or not it's a right fit for you/will it bring a new challenge to you. And I'll be honest, I wasn't happy with the offer I got on the sci-fi show. I had gotten comfortable being a revisionist and wanted something more challenging but didn't vocalize it properly. I wanted to learn and be in an environment that facilitated growth for greener artists....and that just wasn't what I felt from the sci-fi show. So I had to do the scariest thing I've ever done in my life which was ending my contract with the sci-fi show. I was so anxious about it....hoping that I wasn't burning any bridges or coming off as a flake for leaving (even though production didn't start until Feb 2022 and it was Oct 2021 at this point in the story).  But I had to do it and I did do it.....after 3 weeks of trying to get a hold of anyone at the studio 'cause I had no clue how to prematurely end a contract hahahahahahaha....but once it was done! I signed my contract at Marvel and would be starting on Jeff's show in the new year. And that pretty much sums up how I got to Marvel. Funnily enough, at the end of my contract for Lower Decks I had learned that the person who originally scouted me for the sci-fi show actually left the show before I did (along with other artists who I admired and wanted to work with). So in a weird way, everything turned out okay. The universe is strange like that I guess. But yeah, my experience getting into Marvel was a very much a series of life lessons that I'll never forget in a good way. I'm just incredibly thankful to Jeff for taking a chance on me and allowing me to be part of a really special production with such talented artists. If not for that, I think I would still be the same board revisionist who was too scared to leave my comfort zone haha. I hope that story was enjoyable(?). I understand that reading this might make emerging artists feel like, "Damn...I have to know someone in order to get on a good show like that?" And that's not true. It really is a matter of right time place, people and fit. And that's not something you can quantify or artificially create. It just...kind of happens and you learn how to read situations to gauge whether everything is lining up to what you like/need. And you don't really learn that skill understand you're in it as a green artist and experience it. At some point Jeff was a green writer, I was a green artist, all of us in the industry started out green without any big connections. and we had to learn how do to it. So with that, I hope what you take away from this story is building those genuine relationships with people really does go a long way in various ways in the animation industry.

[just-let-me-see-accounts]

???

I spent ages agonising over how I would navigate my medical health before I became 18 (at which point I could schedule my own appointments. Like, I know that I could still do that as a minor with my parent(s) per.issuon but I thought there would still be restrictions, especially concerning money) but my mum is just gonna give me my medical card tomorrow after I briefly mentioned goodrx (which is only tangentially related??) and told me that everything would be free? What??

Like, I can just schedule anything. I could follow up on that proposed blood test to figure out the extent/cause of my anemia. I could go to the dentist. I could get regular check ups (insane. In the past 8-9 years I've only had two check ups).

I recently had an eye exam and am gonna receive two free glasses (plus a third cheap one my mum + grandpa bought for me), but like. I could get an eye exam regularly? Which is pretty damn good since I kinda fucked up with my left eye and when I was looking through that machine it was definitely blurrier in my left than in my right. Plus, obviously my eyes got worse over these past three years, so it'd be great to stay on top of any further changes.

This shit applies to mental health stuff as well. She specifically mentioned that, which I think is her signaling that she does not want to bein charge of keeping up with that. Damn. I could schedule my own appointments and shit. Wow.

Maybe I can buy medication? Obviously I'd have to talk to a psychiatrist to be prescribed anything, but my mum said she doesn't pay *anything* for prescribed medication. I promised myself not to rock the boat too much until I'm 18, though, since last time when I broached the possibility of me being ND and did that surface level test (used to determine if an in depth test is needed), she took me out of therapy (which I will be back in soon thank god! My intake is on the 3rd of October!).

And my mum has expressed that she doesn't want me on medication (she said it isn't safe for a minor. I wonder if her opinion would change once I become an adult. It must eventually, right? She takes medication herself.) so I'm afraid she might. Take away my access to medical stuff.

But like, if she gives me my card, can she even do anything? If she takes it, would I be able to order a new one or smth? She said that she could order a new one if I lose it. Am I entitled to it? I'll have to look into it more.

The possibility of this massive opportunity suddenly being taken away is why I didn't even consider further pursuing ND evaluation or getting a gender therapist. But like, if she can't do anything, I'll definitely do it. I guess that's a "maybe" thing.

Yooo I could get birth control and stop these blasted periods! Neat.

Even better yet, my siblings can get their cards as well and schedule their own stuff. I requested one of my siblings cards as well and she's willing to give me it. I can't make the appointment myself, as I am a minor (which means I can schedule appointments for them when I'm an adult yayyy), but I can help her make an appointment herself. She really needs to see the dentist.

Man. There's just. So many possibilities. I'm definitely gonna look at "common medical screenings/appointments" or whatever to see what I can get looked at for. Now that I have all this medical power I won't allow myself to deal with something I shouldn't have to!!

[huxianposts]

you finished royal 👀 thoughts?

I'm p sure i'll be parroting the same things that were echoed back when the FIRST round of p5r spoilers were circulating, so I'm going to put my thoughts under the read more just in case (also this is so long bc i have so much to say dslkfjasdlf). but yeah, while there ARE some positives, I'm warning y'all for the negatives-- so don't like don't read <3

1st thought: wow. so. That is ...a game, alright. Yeah.

2nd: how did a convoluted game become so much more nuts...?

3rd: I'm so damn sad lmao?

following the first thought: The UI was pretty neat and insane, I think the graphics were great and properly enhanced, the voice acting was PHENOMENAL, the music was pretty nice esp when vanilla was balls to the walls insane in its initial execution.

I was initially wary of the new characters, just bc it takes me a while to warm up to anyone new, ESP when it's from an already established game with its base plot and characters. I still wouldn't say Sumire/Maruki are my faves, but I also think if they were in any other game, I WOULD love them. I already think they're interesting, Maruki's characterization both vexes and fulfills me in the fact that the narrative really built him in a way that makes sense-- i was initially not a big fan of this guy bc he came off patronizing even tho he was clearly running away from his own pain-- BUT THE NARRATIVE ACKNOWLEDGED THAT and actually DID something about it, so honestly, yeah, that was fulfilling in the end just bc the bar is low and Atlus has dropped the ball so many times before lol I think Sumire is interesting. A lot of my initial wariness of her lied in the Kasumi-persona-- and when that was finally revealed that, hey! That's not really her! Yeah, I warmed up. Still think Atlus tremendously dropped the ball on her though, but I'll go into that in the second thought.

The new (needed) Akechi stuff was great. It was so fucking needed!!! That is the one area of this game that I will stand up and hoot for because it fleshed him out in a way that felt meaningful; I loved seeing his anger and the raw quality to his characterization. Not that there wasn't that in vanilla, but there was actually SPACE for him in this game, and that was soooooo good. He felt like a person full of literal depth that you can tangibly touch, rather than these flickers in vanilla that felt lacking. I was invested in his confidant in p5r, and while the 'feral' quality to him was kinda over the top in Maruki's dungeon-- his furious desire for autonomy was so in line with character trajectory from being manipulated and used by Shido-- like, wow, I AM OBSERVING, I AM SEEING, I AM LOOKING, I AM INTERESTED, I WANT BETTER FOR YOU. Yeah anyway, he was the one real good part in p5r, and that's why thoughts 2 and 3 are gonna be a thing.

going into the second thought: i seriously do NOT remember most of the spoilers from 2020, and I think that's a combination from naturally shit memory, 2021 being an extremely horrific year for me that impacted everything, and just the spoilers at the time being so insane I didn't want to truly believe it until I witnessed for myself. And well. I witnessed. Even if it took like, 2 years. lol. but how the hell did an already convoluted game become even more bloated and honestly... kind of unnecessary?

the trimester happened but IT DIDN'T REALLY? like, how roundabout do you have to go to just say, "nothing changed for MC in the end", like, bro??? I didn't spend an extra 30 ish hours just to end up back whence I came-- prison. The moment Lavenza said hey, all the work and pain and struggles you underwent will mean nothing because it WASN'T REAL IN THE REAL REALITY when you chose to fight the school counselor-- my god. My blood pressure. So. Akira still goes to prison. And now it's just, framed in such a nasty way of-- because everyone was essentially mind zombified by Maruki's tentacles (SERIOUSLY, ATLUS, SERIOUSLY?? I get he's a counselor BUT WHY), TECHNICALLY everyone and their mom left Akira to uh. Stagnate in prison. For almost 2 months. They essentially forgot him there. And yeah, I UNDERSTAND that everyone was mind zombified and weren't really acting in a way that was befitting of their care for p5 protag-- but how was it in vanilla, the moment the team finds out that Akira sacrificed himself, they spent the ensuing month advocating and finding evidence just to set him free!! Including his adult confidants!! And we somehow managed to set him free within 10 days of waking up in p5r??? It just feels shoehorned in, and again, kinda wtf bc Iwai's thing during Akira's imprisonment (if you max him out) is: "I have connections in the prison system that can ensure the teen that helped me can be safe and looked after." But uh. In p5r apparently, Akira doesn't get that protection for the apparent 1 ish months in prison. So. Again, I GET that Akira wasn't TECHNICALLY in prison the entire time, but reality bs aside where one's real or one's not-- it just leaves a nasty taste in my mouth about his situation.

going on the Sumire situation: why did Atlus. Do that. To her. In any other game, she would be my home slice, my baby girl, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese-- but in this one.... what was her point? Besides being collateral for Maruki's story? It sounds really sucky of me to say it, and ofc no one has to agree with my opinions because they're just that-- but I am so resentful of the way Atlus utilized her. Like the OPENING scene where she somehow follows the team undetected into Sae's dungeon (not to mention, HOW THO, SHE JUST AWAKENED, SHE HAS NEVER REALLY PRACTICED, AND SHE'S FENDING OFF LEVEL 40-50 SHADOWS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS??? BUT THEN GETS BODIED IN MARUKI'S DUNGEON? WHAT'S GOING ON HERE) and 'saves' Joker and then just. dips??? That scene.... did nothing for Joker in the end? He still gets captured, still gets the everloving shit beat out of him, interrogated, etc etc. And then comes Shido's palace, and the team. Just doesn't. Invite her along. Even though, JUDGING FROM HER SKILLS DEMONSTRATED IN SAE'S PALACE, she should be perfect for the Shido heist-- but bc Vanilla was so damn completed, Atlus couldn't bother to implement her meaningfully in that dungeon. And like, her confidant is honestly interesting-- I didn't MEAN to actually care about her, because again, it takes a lot for me to warm up to new characters-- I liked her exploration in grief, in being her own person, hell, I even GET her Minnie Mouse thing to Joker's Mickey Mouse. I get it. I just dislike Atlus implementing her in core scenes that narratively.... doesn't mean anything IF YOU DON'T ACCESS TRIMESTER.

And even when you do-- it's all about Maruki. His research. His powers. His own pain. Sumire was collateral in him realizing himself, his potential, his distortion. It feels like a disservice to her. Because if you take her out of the plot-- what impact was there? Joker still goes to jail. Maruki would've still distorted reality due to his own pains and Yaldabaoth giving him the juice to do magic hand wavey stuff. It just. Seems so ugh, and highlights Atlus pandering to dudebros wanting another 'waifu' to boost their self-insert's ego. And sure, Sumire ISN'T necessarily a phantom thief-- she doesn't identify as such-- but the way her everything is centered solely around interactions with joker feels aughhh, bc it's juxtaposed against scenes where everyone's involved and being friendly to someone they don't know/feel close to besides "oh hey, another student like us and she knows Joker so that's cool", I'm getting tone shift whiplash; it makes everyone feel somehow more shallow in their own interactions-- and that's painful bc for all its faults, vanilla at least emphasized the close energy the team had for each other (YES, AKECHI INCLUDED BC FOR ALL HIS ANIMOSITY WITH THE TEAM, TWAS KINDA FUNNY). For a character that was utilized in so many core scenes with no actual high stakes impact with her presence, the fact that so many of her scenes were unskippable made the pacing grating, because WHY. the one thing I remember the director(?) saying that royal was all about the new characters-- but damn, i didn't expect that to be true lmao. the cast was large enough, so how did adding more to the salad not make anyone think-- hey, this might be a bit much. esp if the things that happened to joker largely didn't change.

ALSO, AKECHI, MY FUCKING GOD. why did they DO that to him????? His confidant? fantastic. His increased presence in the game? Needed and also good. but then you end up with, "uwu he's actually still dead in reality.... or is he ;)" situation?? Like WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT. it feels so disrespectful, and I honestly do not understand the direction they went with this besides kicking the protagonist down even more with emotional damage while also spitting MORE on Akechi's second apparent demise, like how the hell was this okay. yeah, no wonder the bad ending was so fucking juicy in comparison to the 'true' ending. miss me with that shit!!! nothing apparently changed!!!! why!!!!!! HE WANTED TO HAVE A CHOICE!!! BUT NOW WE DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THAT REALLY IS HIS CHOICE OR A FIGMENT OF AKIRA'S WISH, AND I'M SO GRATED

there are also other little tidbits that made go "why", like, the increased Morgana-Ryuji friendship scenes. Which, HELL YEAH??? FRIENDSHIP IN MY GAME? but then it's juxtaposed against OG vanilla scenes where they fight and split-- and it's so emotionally jarring and makes no fucking sense because in vanilla, it makes sense why Morgana would dip-- he and Ryuji had an unstable friendship fraught with self-doubt and projection on each other with no immediate desire to try to understand the other-- Vanilla made those ugh moments a whole ass point of Morgana feeling like he didn't belong, and giving him reason to leave. Now, in Royal, they have more friendship scenes that emotionally feels good, but narratively makes Morgana and Ryuji seem more dick-ish and irrational in the break up sequence. like, WHY ATLUS

going into my third thought: yeah, i'm so emotionally sad? About Akira? I don't even know how to articulate this properly, but. Again, it feels so nasty to see this character continue to go through it™, but it feels nastier to see how now in the end, the adults continue to fail him, and place the onus of responsibility on his shoulders.

the trimester was about helping Maruki and saving him.

Akira still goes to prison, and he CHOSE it, but did he really when his environment and the adults failed him into having to make that choice?

He's going back to his hometown, but the stereotypes will still persist, even with the new evidence of innocence, but hey, he can handle it.

and so much more. It's all about how "oh, akira is strong, he can handle it, he can get through this, he got this", but it feels so gross. Because he started the game alone, and in the end, he... leaves alone. Physically and emotionally, too.

Like i both LOVE and hate how everyone splits their own ways. I think, yeah, following the reality theme-- that IS realistic, and goal-wise, feels fulfilling in that regard. But in the other sense: this is a game about manifesting your soulsona into punching shitty adults, why tf are we leaving our MC alone again??? What drew me to vanilla p5 was just. How inherently alone everyone felt. Everyone was so damn alone, so damn lonely. And then they found each other. THEY FOUND EACH OTHER. the whole world might be against them, but that's okay because they're together. So now in the true ending of p5r, there's this... resigned feeling. Of accepting and moving away, of reintegrating in an unfair society that would look away from the most vulnerable and harmed. and it feels 'mature', it feels 'realistic', it feels 'normal'. And I both love and hate it. I love it for its acknowledgment of wanting to grow more than just being a phantom thief, but I hate it for how in the end, everyone felt so emotionally distant. I couldn't recognize them the same.

Akira started the story alone, and he somehow leaves more alone and distant. And again, it's that piece of "nothing changed". Akira might've changed, and I guess, that is the most important part bc his situation hasn't necessarily changed-- but why did it have to feel so much more lonely this time around? You give this boy a group of people he loves and who loves him back-- and suddenly, everyone's fucking gone. It just feels so painful, watching him board that damn train, still wearing glasses and smiling. a hundred plus hours of this game... and for what? his story was about pain, and now he gets more pain? who approved of this message?

overall: I think largely, p5r further highlighted the weaknesses shown in vanilla, and how convoluted and kinda stupid the plot was, i.e., society remaining largely the same even after Shido. Nothing really changed, besides MC's perception of the world-- and yes, I guess that's fine, that's powerful too in its way. But for a theme about "Rebellion™", p5r didn't.... have to keep hammering the WHY DEVIATING FROM SOCIETY IS BAD ACTUALLY message. That's so gross, man. I think p5r was fun to play and revisit, but ultimately the experience made me feel like a clown and made me lowkey hate the cast, and i never want to experience that split second of hate ever again <3

[lexpressobean]

I've been thinking about these 3 alot...

... and how much they seem to really respect Shino. I know it's a filler, but, like... Why does it seem like Shino has a knack for finding children who have wondered off away from school? Like, he's just taking a walk, making his way around the village or surrounding forest, and then there they are. Kids playing hooky or some shit. And Shino just takes it upon himself to approach them and steer them back to where they should be, while getting them attached to him somehow in the process??

But honestly. If this was just one of many times this had happened, I'd say Shino does this not out of his knack for teaching or having a way with kids. Rather, he developed a way with kids and easily applies that to his teaching because he has a strong desire to simply protect children. And it's not even from some paternal instinct as much as survival, because I think it stems from the developing trauma of losing Torune to Danzo. And I don't think it's all subconscious either.

Like I know the novel and anime frames his desicion to teach as a sort of a new goal in life as the war has ended for a couple years already and a noticable Peace has been achieved by the Blank Period and well... He's an Aburame.

Like, the Aburame are literal living, breathing, walking bioweapons. With no fight to utilize that, what else is there? Well, much like the Nara have the Nara forest and Pharmacology specifically, The Aburame most likely have a historical stake in the area of Konoha, perhaps it was simply in their Ancestral Home. Idk, but they're here to stay, they ain't budging. They're Clan Culture is very Martial and I'd argue Spartan in nature, but otherwise, they do other things too. I think they'd do well as major players in the conservation and research of native species of animals and plants, but definitely insects too. I bet they play a huge part in the general area's ecosystem, especially due to the fact that the Kamizuru clan attacked with a whole clan's worth of non-native Hymenoptera that could very well have become and still are an irritatingly and consistent problem as invasive species tend to be. And as a far as goods go, why not put some of them to use and handle an apiary? Honey is a great good to sell. All of this is great as a clan that no longer needs to fight. But, what about individual members in general, and so Shino?

Well Shino is the Heir of this clan. This Noble Clan. This "ready to throw hands at any moment" clan. It's future is in his hands, so to speak. So I doubt Shino would completely sever his connection to Shinobi life all together. And so, teaching at the Academy would be a great way to keep that connection. Teachers have to know their stuff, after all.

But what if in order to ensure teaching was his calling, Shino did his absolute best to make Jounin ASAP so he could take on a Genin Team. And. And by chance, it ended up being these three?? And they are absolutely STOKED!!! And they also pass Shino's genin test, which... would probably be a feat in it's own right. But they already know Shino, and Shino has bestowed upon them some wisdom they actually took to heart! Yeah, well, in reality they might be just a tad too old to be Shino's first official genin squad, but they were still his squad one point in a sense, right?

Kon Nohara, Tano Ikemoto, and Aoki Kobayashi

I even gave them names help Imagine these three are already chuunin at least and decide they want to pay Shino a visit and even volunteer to help Shino during class time on a collective day off because they admire him so much (T~T)

But even then if not these three kiddos, maybe these three li'l shits lol

Even in times of Peace, Shino's special set of skills seem too useful to waste, and being a Jounin teacher would definitely have been a way he could still go on missions, but also definitely commit to becoming a Sensei at the academy once he was 100% sure and got older. Kurenai became a Jounin/Genin Squad Leader in her late twenties, but in comparison I see Shino doing that more mid-20s. (He needs some time to travel and find his big bug friend and generally live a little?)

Kurenai was a Genjutsu Specialist who manned a Tracker/Sensing based team. This sounds like it was a highly beneficial combination, even if she ended up being somewhat sadistic lol. Asuma was bound to Team 10 by Tradition as InoShikaCho and Sarutobi have that Pact together. Kakashi's team was literally Cherry Picked for him specifically by the 3rd Hokage. And Gai, a Taijutsu Specialist, had a team that Specialized in Taijutsu and Physical Offense.

Of all four teams, Kurenai and Gai were very suited to their teams, Gai in a complimentary way and Kurenai in a Challenging way. In that same vein, I think Shino would imitate Gai. Shino as a Shinobi himself has a general set of skills, but the way he goes about them are very niche. But, he was always very stealthy, and could sneak up on nearly anyone. Gags aside, he could go unnoticed as long as he wanted too, and by the time he was noticed or was ready to attack, he has you quite literally surrounded. Honestly I can see why Search and Destroy would be an Aburame's forte, but when there's no need, a person with a personal skill of high quality stealth could probably man a team with an emphasis on Reconnaissance and/or Surveillance, even Bodyguarding. I feel like Shino would probably put an emphasis on Stealth and Tracking too, utilizing his insects as sort of assistants that keep tabs on his students (Stealth Test) as well as to encourage just enough fear during too much down time in his students to inspire quality training opportunities, so maybe Kurenai rubbed off on Shino more than they all realized haha

(Plus I'm sure his students would be be smart and thoughtful enough to eventually understand what Shino and his bugs are: a complete unit. They realize just how strong and dedicated Sensei really is to be the way he is, and they all learn more in depth about Kikaichu and it's like WOW SENSEI YOU REALLY ARE RISKING BEING EATEN ALIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY, AREN'T YOU? But he's still here, because THAT'S how strong he's become over the years and the confidence to manipulate the Kikaichu while having to think of current chakra level, the most efficient use at any given time, how many he actually needs, how long usage will last, ect. They are high maintenance, man!)

Shino would no doubt produce highly skilled Bodyguards and Masters of Stealth. Maybe the type that would end up being in high demand for the eventual Celebrities that start to pop up as times change, but still very much needed when it comes to Criminal Activity, like in Sora-Ku?

But as time passes and he decided to teach at the Academy, he'd feel very at ease to do so. He'd be happy to be put in charge of all these children, because he would be able to help teach them things they need to know to defend themselves and others in a world where adults like Danzo had and will continue to exist. Maybe while he's at it, he'd use his stance as a Noble Clan Heir and accomplished Shinobi to push for changes in government with Sai's help and with Naruto and Shikamaru's cooperation? Like, the truth does come out, everyone on the Council were actually horrible and had too much power. So HERE are some ideas and REASONS why these ideas should be implemented because Shino's not going to let his brother's life and death be in vain!? HELL no, we WILL make some changes around here. Shino sees his students and just wants a future where no kid ever has to live in fear of being completely taken advantage of by the very system that was supposed to keep them safe and they pledged allegiance to.

I cannot help but think of the quiet but absolute fear little Shino was harboring for the years to come after Torune was taken by that strange man and Father Shibi didn't even attempt to stop him. His own father didn't dare beat the shit out of this strange man who came looking for him, and the only solution for Shino to stay was for Torune to make himself look more desirable as an asset and be taken instead. I bet there was a lot of misplaced resentment there for a while, and talks that just didn't happen. Maybe a classmate doesn't show up to class one day and Shino is IMMEDIATELY stressed out and just... takes it upon himself to look for them after class. And he's relieved when he see they're simply at home with a fever. Shit like that just fucks with Shino, because theres people taking kids and no one is doing anything about it?? And then as Shino grew older he realized exactly what happened and how slimy the machine of Konoha really is and it was never completely Shibi's fault that Torune had to leave. He grows mentally at a faster rate than most of his classmates, and knows more than a kid really needs to know.

Shino doesn't want that for any other child. Shino is the kind of person who hears kids screaming outside of his house and he can't tell if they're playing or being murdered and it's stressful to the point he'll check through his window and he sees them for himself. He get stressed out seeing a kid in public unattended and WANTS to approach them to help if need be but also maybe he's overthinking it and the parents are there somewhere and he'd just end up looking suspicious. Like, that's what I kind of figure for Shino. He's so hyperaware of the power dynamic between kids and adults and seeing a kid so ready to fall victim to that makes Shino feel ill the more he thinks of what could happen. And he wonders if watching the kid in the market until they finally reunite with their parent so he could move on with the rest of his day causes him even a fraction of the the utterly disgusting flurry of nerves and fear that Shibi must have felt all those years ago. It goes along with his desire to spare every single little insect's life he can. It goes a long with the fact he only gets violent unless absolutely necessary. Like he wants to be strong but he doesn't want to go mad with power either, less he becomes the very thing that hurt him and his family in the first place.

Originally Shino wanted to become strong to be able to defend himself because at a very young age adults failed him and Torune. But then that changes to defend not only himself, but others as he grows on a team, and realizes trust is important. And then he figured if there must be adults out there that would hurt a child, it's only logical that he should become one that would only nurture and teach one to be strong as well.

Anyway, yeah. Had some feelings. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[lightcomingthroughthedarkness]

So I'm in a weird dating situation and I'm just confused and thought lets ask tumblr, lol.

So over the summer I started dating a guy. The first time we met, things went well but I had a gut feeling something wasn't right but I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on it. It was just a gut feeling, something just felt off.

We kept on dating all summer and we realized almost right away that we are very different people. I'm direct, honest and go all in. Even though I'm an introvert in most cases, I felt like I needed to be upfront with him about my intentions. So much so, that I admit, I was overdoing it a little. He was more chill and wanted us to slow down and just date and see where we'd end up. But if I have a feeling or a thought, I share, in the name of being honest and upfront about my intentions. Not him. He's a thinker and needs time to form his thoughts before speaking. And if he doesn't feel like saying something, he keeps it to himself. So to say the least, our style of communication was veeeery different. I acknowledged this and talked to him about it so we could better understand one another. Again, he helped me chill down a little and just be in the moment so I didn't think it was all bad.

What I noticed almost right away, was that I was always more interested in his life and asked him thousands of questions about his work, his family, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes etc and he thought I asked "too many questions". He felt like I was overdoing it. Meanwhile, he never really had many questions about my life at all. I brought this up so we could communicate and discuss. His answer was that he was interested in me but that his communication style was different. He wasn't used to direct questions but would rather see us talk and discuss and through discussions, learn more about one another. So I tried that by backing down on questions and letting it flow. He tried too, by starting to ask me questions to show his interest (which he later admitted that he had to google "what to ask someone you're dating")

However, I noticed again that not much happened in regards to him learning more about me. He'd freely share information about his family, his work, his life by sending me photos and little funny stories about them/him. It was important to him that I knew that he was beloved by friends, family and co-workers. It was also important to him that I knew that he was capable, respected and valuable. Even though I later found out he was leaving his job due to a disagreement with his co-boss in their shared business.

Since we had agreed on a more "free discussion" style of communication, I didn't wait for him to ask me, I just shared photos and information about my life too. The difference was that I always had some follow up question about his life, I showed interest in his relationships with his family members, I made small comments about things he'd share with me to show him I was listening and that I cared to learn more. He would never do the same for me. He'd acknowledge what I shared with him but had no follow up questions or comments. He even said once that it was too soon for me to share private information because "we aren't there yet" while he had already sent me family photos of his family. Sometimes I felt like my photos/stories about my life were sent out into the void. I couldn't understand how you show interest in someone's life.. by literally having nothing to say?

At the start of us dating he was direct with me that he expected us to have an active sex life because he believes sex is part of dating. I agreed but wanted to wait until I was more comfortable with him. He kept telling me he wasn't interested in a relationship without the sexual part. Finally, I felt more comfortable and told him I was ready after our 3rd or 4th date. But then he started acting weird telling me he thought it was better to wait longer, as I had originally wanted to do. I was so confused and felt rejected. I again was upfront and told him I was ready. So we made plans and met up. Turns out he needed to tell me that he had been suffering from a lot of stress and psychological pressure from a lot of different things in life so it affected his physical health. I was shocked. He had made it suuuper clear that he expected sex.. only to keep such information from me. I was supportive and wanted him to know that I was a safe place for him.

So while all of that made me confused and I did bring it up several times with him, he kept showing up. He would always text me, always tell me good night/good morning with heart emojis, always reach out during the day to catch up, always asked to see me and hang out with me, even when we'd argue he'd never call me names, he'd never yell at me or touch me unless I wanted him to. He just kept showing his interest by showing up. Even though I thought some of our contact lacked depth. But I was willing to let a lot slide.

But since the summer, we've been doing long distance with me planning on visiting next month. So we kept in touch by text mostly. Again, he kept on showing up. Not one day went by without him reaching out to me. In that way, he made his interest clear. He kept using pet names for me and was always very sweet like that.

But still, our communication didn't improve much. We still had a lot of big differences about values and life. Sadly, I never really thought he took my feelings seriously about how sad I was that our communication was lacking. I mean, the guy kept showing up in a lot of ways, even through long distance... but he couldn't ask one question about my life or make me feel like he was truly interested in ME. Instead he thought I was overdoing it, trying to shape life to fit a "rule book" and how I just couldn't live in the moment like him. To me, it felt like he was just ignoring my reasons for wanting to make my intentions clear and that I didn't want to waste my time with someone who didn't share my intentions. He said he did, that he too was dating me with the intention of a future together but that we just differ in our ways to get to that future. Again, I was willing to let it slide that perhaps I wouldn't get ALL my emotional needs met and that I needed to trust the process.

While learning more about each other, he told me how he is a stubborn person and will cut a person out of his life if he believes "the other person doesn't deserve to be in his life". He did this to his best friend after they had a fight. But his friend "clawed" his way back into his life and finally he relented and realised his friend "valued their friendship over a fight". He told me he doesn't trust anyone but "god and myself". He told me if someone likes him, he likes them back. If a woman breaks up with him, he'd stop caring about her in 5 seconds because "why should I care if she doesn't care" and then she'd be dead to him. I learned that he had lost his mother as a child and a part of him doesn't feel whole and his only wish is that he'll see her again in the afterlife. I once asked him if he ever forgive people in his life for making a mistake, he said "never". He said if someone wronged him, he'd wait 50 years if he had to but he'd always "find a way to get even".

He told me about an ex, how she cheated on him when they were teenagers. She came back and wanted to date again, so he went out with her and they ended up having sex.. only for him to throw her out right after they finished because she was a "bitxh for thinking he'd take her back". He basically made her believe they'd fix it, played her for some cheap sex and then kicked her out. He was furious with me when I called him out on that behavior and he said "only god can judge me".

He also told me he had gone to therapy a few years ago but he was very private about why he went. So I told him a little about why I went but still, he didn't share much. He just said "I'm a complex person to understand. I have a lot of love to give but it's your job to find that love". He always felt judged, criticized or offended by me, even though it was never my intention. I could question something he had said or done and he'd get annoyed with me for "judging him all the time" or "always expecting the worst". I asked him how he wanted me to communicate with him so we could minimize situations where he'd feel that way but he didn't have an answer, just that I "talk normally".

All of these stories made me feel weird and I wasn't comfortable with it. Then one day we had an argument about our lack of communication and I was just so fed up, I decided to ignore his good morning text and didn't text him all day but I posted a story on instagram about something completely irrelevant to our relationship (a story with my niece). I needed to think, to understand my own feelings and try and understand what our problem was before reaching out.

Later that day he got annoyed and told me to stop behaving like a child. So I finally reached out and texted him back. I asked him how come he couldn't understand that it hurts my feelings that we can't even seem to TALK to each other without misunderstandings, how he makes fun of me by saying I need a "rule book" to life etc for simply wishing we could be better at communicating. He said he didn't make fun of me and that he didn't believe my reaction was normal since the fight wasn't that big a deal.

What did he do? He broke up with me right then and there. Told me it is unacceptable to him that his partner ignores him/his texts and that he can't handle being ignored. While I agree, I should not have ignored him but rather talked to him about it, I'm only human and was growing so frustrated. I said, lets talk about this, lets talk about triggers and what deal breakers we have so we can better understand each other and not repeat the same mistakes. He said he wasn't interested and that he could "never forgive me for this mistake". He couldn't see himself spending his life with someone who ignores his texts because what if this happens again? No, he was not interested in giving me a chance to explain or for us to learn more about the other. I asked him if maybe there were other reasons for him losing interest (me being so direct, too open, moving too fast, my own issues that I work on every day and acknowledge etc) he said no, it was just that ONE mistake, my not answering one text message.

I told him that I thought his reaction to my not returning ONE message, after a fight, was a bit of an overreaction but he said he couldn't risk it, in case I do this again in the future. He said he refuses "to be made a fool" by me so he is no longer interested to continue dating because I had shown my true colors by not texting him back but still posting on instagram as if I didn't see his text. He said "that was clearly directed at me" even though I explained that I have a life outside of him. I asked him if he still liked me and he said that he did but that it wasn't enough after my mistake.

So I asked him what we are going to do about my visit next month. He said he is willing to see me if that's what I want, to see him, but he's not interested in a relationship any longer. He also said he's willing to still text with me sometimes and that he doesn't want to come across as "the bad guy". So if I want to stay in contact with him we can do that, we can talk and we can meet up too. But nothing else.

Wtf. I am no longer interested in a relationship with him after all this.. but what the actual fuck. Am I crazy here.. or maybe is his "black and white" way of thinking just impossible to deal with in a relationship? I would have accepted and respected his decision 10000 times over if he had said that he no longer likes me and doesn't see a future for us. But breaking up over my not returning ONE TEXT MESSAGE?! 🤷🏻‍♀️

[iraacundus]

The Sins of Angels

devil!Taeyong soulmate!au 

Genre: fluff, fantasy, smut, angst Words: 10k

warnings: sex (incl. degredation), swearing

better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven - Paradise Lost, John Milton 1667

You weren't a bad person, but clearly, you hadn’t been a great one either. You had to figure that was the case as you stood in a really long queue at the front desk of Hell. There were some people around you crying and screaming, but most people just stood in stony silence, waiting until they reached the end of the queue.

It was a casual four weeks later when you reached the front, which for Hell you supposed was quite quick. You wondered if it was meant to unsettle you, to form part of your eternity of torture, or maybe that's just how long bureaucracy in the afterlife took.

“Name and time of death?” You finally heard be called out to you. You had to think for a second, the hours of standing in the queue had really started to rot your brain.

“It’s y/n and I died on the 3rd March 2020 at 9:58pm” You said, having no idea why you knew your exact time of death, but the desk man wasn’t surprised and therefore it must have been something dead people just knew. The desk man handed you a gold coin.

“Straight ahead to the gates, tell them you’re going to the second circle,”. You took the coin and nodded. “Have a terrible time,” he said, sounding so bored that you were sure he was having a worse time.

No sooner had you step away from the desk to contemplate your impending doom before he called you back.

He stared down at the old 1980’s computer in front of him in slight disbelief, hitting the side of it three times just to make sure it was actually working properly. Seeing that this made no difference the man shrugged and motioned for you to come closer to the desk.

“Just had a message from the boss man, turns out your wanted down where the real actions happens,” he said taking back your coin. He placed it carefully back in its box before reaching down below his desk and fiddling for a moment.

“Could you come round here and stand beside me?” he asked, you noted his tone had become much more polite ever since he had read his computer message.

“First interesting thing to happen at this desk in ninety years,” He said looking at you, eyes not blinking for a slightly uncomfortable amount of time before pointing down to where he had been fiddling.

“This is a passage to the City of Dis. It’s a ten hour-long fall and it hurts when you get to the bottom, but it’s that… or ten hundred years of torture to get there and we don’t have that kind of time.”

“Don’t we have all of time,” you questioned, Hell had always been marketed as an eternity of suffering.

“You mean to say,” the man began, “That you would actually prefer to endure the ten hundred years of torture?” He was incredulous, you didn’t think his eyebrows could lift any faster.

Neither seemed like a good option, but you couldn’t possibly die twice so one hard fall had to have been the better option. You looked down at the endless dark hole, trying to contemplate what was being proposed here.

“You don’t really have a choice, please jump down the hole, you’re really holding up the queue, I’ve got targets to meet.”

You couldn’t ascertain whether the last part was a joke or not, but you had realised that overthinking wasn’t helping anyone. You took one last look at the man at the hell desk before launching yourself into the depths of Hell.

You screamed for about the first minute, before realizing it was pointless, you had a long while to go until you hit the ground. You pondered about why you might have ended up where you were, cursing that in real life you hadn’t bothered to study the nine circles of hell, that might have given you a clue.

About three-quarters of the way through your fall it started to get lighter again, but also hotter, it was exhaustingly hot, worse than Death Valley in the summer hot. You felt like you had been falling for much less than a few hours, you weren't sure if time worked the same way in eternity. You almost wanted to cry but the thought that an eternity in Hell could be worse though, which somehow comforted you. Even though you knew that it could get worse and probably would.

-----

It was a while longer until you finally hit the ground. It hurt like every single bone in your body had broken. You just lay there, contorted.

“Oh... That looked like it hurt!” You heard someone exclaim from above you. You half-opened one eye to see a boy staring down at you. All you could notice was that he was very good looking, something you had noticed about desk boy too now that you thought about it. Every bone in your body may have shattered, but if all the people in hell, looked like the men you had seen so far... your complaints were limited. A fact which truly made you think you had really lost any sense of reality.

“You need to get up ... you haven't reached your final destination.” He said. You swore under your breath before pushing yourself onto your hands and knees, something that induced the agonising pain all over again. The good-looking guy just stared at you with a wicked grin.

“I have all the time in the world babe quite literally infinite time, but the person we are going to meet does not have infinite patience. And- and I can’t stress this enough - he's really fucking scary so stand the hell up,” he grabbed your arms lifting you to your feet, shaking his head, “get the hell up, did you not appreciate what I did there.” You stared at him blankly.  

“My humour is wasted in this bloody city.” He complained.

You said nothing, you had literally no idea what to say to this man, if he even was a man.

“I’m Yangyang by the way,” he continued, “one of this city’s finest fallen angels, fell straight from heaven into the ladies' hearts.”

Now you were standing up you realised the light you had seen was just endless fire, the only break in the fire was a stone path that didn’t seem to have an end, at least not an end that you could see.

The fire was filled with burning souls in the distance, the screams you could hear were unnerving, you wanted to somehow disappear. Yangyang didn’t even seem to hear them, the screams of hell must have become just a faint music to him over time, like radio music in a shop.

You followed closely behind him as he led you along the fire-lit path. As you got closer to what you presumed was the city of Dis the sound of a distant roar of voices got louder and louder, but there was still no end in sight.

“What did you get kicked out of Heaven for... if it’s not rude to ask?” You were trying to create any sense of distortion from the horrifying surroundings.

He laughed, the fire reflecting against his face that still held the same wicked grin.

“I’m not offended and even if I was, this is Hell, people are rude all the time it doesn’t matter. Here in Hell you can do what you want babe. There is only one person youwill have to listen to; Lucifer himself. Most people listen to the fallen angels too, but I fear you will end up being more important here than me.”

You knew in theory who Lucifer was, fallen angel, cast out by God. Somehow though, you hadn’t expected him to exist even after you got to Hell, you assumed he was just created to scare children and adults alike. The idea of fallen angels was also a foreign one to you, you hadn’t even known there were more people like Lucifer.

“And to answer your question, I got kicked out of heaven for being too fun,” he said, laughing mostly to himself. You doubted that was the official reason he got kicked out, even if he decided to justify it as such.

-------------------------

The walk came to an end at the edge of a vast canyon. At the very bottom, you could see a very grand building surrounded by markets and various other buildings. In the rock face, there were many entrances and balconies which people seemed to live inside.

“We don’t have to jump do we?” You asked, feeling like you had done enough falling for at least the next six lifetimes in Hell.

“There is a lift.”

He said like it was very obvious, and you were stupid for even suggesting otherwise, even though he had seen the end of your bone breaking fall.

The lift wasn’t like any modern-day one, more like one you would have seen in a mine shaft in centuries past, just bigger. There was a large queue for the lift which Yangyang didn’t seem at all bothered by. He grabbed your arm and walked through the queue, the sea of people parting as the jumped back in what appeared to be fear. You couldn’t understand why; Yangyang seemed nice enough.

You stepped into the lift and clung to the side as the door shut. The metal groaned slightly before beginning to lower. You could see each of the levels more clearly now, there were four distinct areas above the ground floor.

“The city is the 6th to 9th circles of Hell,” Yangyang explained, “For people who committed worse crimes, treachery, heresy and all that.”

“What is the second circle?” You asked back, hoping he could provide you the answer to your biggest question.

“Is that where you were headed?”

You nodded.

“Just before I was told to jump down the hole and ended up here, I was originally meant to go to the second circle.”

Yangyang just laughed but didn’t bother to answer the question and you weren’t brave enough to ask again.

The metal began to screech again as the lift hit the ground floor and the gate began to open. The people waiting at the bottom also immediately moved back when they saw Yangyang step forward, pushing you off the lift and past the crowd.

Yangyang set off walking, through market, after market in which everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. There was the odd scream of pain here and there but there were more screams of laughter, more voices chatting and bargaining.

As you got closer to the centre of the floor the buildings got bigger and grander, some of them almost palatial.

“That’s my house” Yangyang said pointing to a large building to the right of you. It looked quite nice, even if a drunk man had passed out on the front steps.

“You can get drunk in Hell?” You asked.

“Ninety percent of the people here are drunk ninety percent of the time.” Was his answer.

You walked for a few more minutes before reaching the gate that surrounded the grandest building of all, Devil House, Yangyang informed you. The gates were opened by two guards as you approached, how bowed at you both as you passed. Yangyang walked you up to the door before knocking six times.

After a minute or so the doors opened seemingly by themselves. Situated behind the doors was a grandiose entrance hall made out of black marble, a gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

You looked at Yangyang expectantly for him to explain what would happen next, but he said nothing, the wicked grin gone from his face. For the first time he actually looked somewhat scared.

You suddenly noticed a man standing at the top of the staircase. He was staring straight down at you with a glare that could have killed, ifyou hadn’t already been dead.

“My Lord,” Yangyang managed to choke out, he stared down at his feet, his hands fidgeting. When you looked back away from Yangyang, the man, who you guessed was the Devil, was standing right in front of you. Blood red hair, perfect jawline, flawless skin - out of all of the good-looking men you had seen here so far, he was the most perfect.

He reached out and kissed your hand.

“Welcome to Hell, my love, my name’s Lucifer, but you can call me Taeyong,” he said.

-----------------

You woke up in a bed with some of the softest pillows you had ever felt, you sat up slowly, taking in your surroundings, not knowing how you had ended up there. The bed you were on was the only piece of furniture in the completely white room. There was a door at the far end of the room and a window that looked out onto the fire and darkness below.

You stood up carefully and walked over to the window. You could see the guards still standing by the gate and a few people fighting in the corner of the street.

A light knock came at the door.

“Come in?” You replied after a brief pause, realising that the person knocking was assuming this was your room.

The door swung open and Taeyong, Lord Lucifer, walked in. You froze where your stood by the window, even though he was standing about ten meters away from you.

If Taeyong sensed your fear, he chose to ignore it,

“I hope you're comfortable, I had one of the women change your clothes, I figured you would prefer that,” he said. You looked down, where your previous dust-ridden clothes had been was now a silk nightdress, you raised your eyebrows slightly. It was a beautiful item of clothing but slightly on the revealing side for meeting a man you didn’t know.

“Isn’t that very nice of someone who is meant to be the Devil?” you asked him. He looked you dead in the eyes and tilted his head slightly,

“If you want me to be mean darling, that can be arranged... but I would prefer if we could be civil.”

You nodded, once again lost for words. You couldn’t remember much about your life, but you were pretty sure that in life you had always had something to say. Yet since you had gotten to Hell you were more often than not lost for words.

You started to remember the events of the previous span of time, you remembered falling and meeting Yangyang. Yangyang made you feel comfortable, you had many questions and hoped maybe he would be able to answer them.

“Could I maybe talk to Yangyang,” you asked. Taeyong shook his head.

“No.” His lips rested in a firm line; you were starting to understand why Yangyang said he was someone to be afraid of. Yet with a life of torture already assured you felt you had nothing left to lose.

“I’m just gonna say it,” you began, ‘what is going on here, like what’s with the whole situation, I don’t remember anything about my life, or even how I ended up in this room, all I know is I jumped down a hole, met Yangyang, who was definitely scared of you by the way, and ended up here right now. I know that you are the all-powerful Lucifer, but you won’t let me see the one person I vaguely know or trust.” Taeyong just smirked out your outburst.

“You don’t always get what you want in Hell and I wouldn’t make a habit of trusting fallen angels” he replied.

His lacklustre reply stirred a deep sense of anger within you, you found it really hard to tolerate people who thought they were better than others.

“Is this my torture? Because if so, you guys are using weird tactics these days... like rather unorthodox if you ask me, I think I might rather just be burnt.” You instantly regretted the comment about being burnt, “But also please don’t burn me.”

To your surprise Taeyong half smiled at your comment.

“I’m not torturing you; I assure you that definitely involves classic techniques like burning people to death. In fact, I would argue that fact fate has left you lucky.”

“What does that mean?” You asked. Taeyong shrugged.

“There are worse things in death than having to marry me.”

You blinked about ten times in a row, the words gone from your mind again, blank.

“Sorry one second,” you said, holding up four hand, “can you just elaborate on that, because last time I checked I wasn’t engaged to any devils.”

“Not any regular devil, theDevil.” He corrected, before looking down at the expensive watch that was on his wrist, “I have to go and sort some things out, feel free to look around the house, just don’t leave and don’t interact with any of the staff around the house.”

You didn’t have time to formulate a reply or protest before he was gone, door shut perfectly, as if he had never even been there.

You sat around in silence for a few minutes before becoming curios about your surroundings. Your room was totally empty so you hoped the rest of the house wasn’t as such or it would have been a rather dull house tour.

Fortunately, as soon as you stepped out of your room you were faced with a very different sight. The corridor had a plush red carpet lining the floor and paintings and tapestries lining the walls.

You entered room after room, most of them just empty bedrooms, though none as empty as yours had been. As you ventured a little further into the house you began to find more interesting rooms.

There was a corridor that constituted only of studies another that had what seemed to be conference type rooms with long tables and lots of chairs. Around the other side you finally came across the dining room where there was food laid out on the table. A whole feast that you didn’t dare touch for a variety of reasons.

A man stood in the corner of the room, when he saw you enter, he bowed down just as the guards had, something that unsettled you.

“In case you wanted to eat,” the man explained, gesturing towards the table. You noticed there was only one place set for eating, at the same time you wondered if the concept of being hungry even existed in Hell. You felt your stomach grumble slightly, answering your own question.

You gave a weak smile to the man before sliding into the seat. This could be where the torture begins, you thought. It could have been poisoned food or turned into rotting flesh when you ate it, yet it looked so appetising you could hardly believe that would ever be the case.

Still unsure of weather to eat it or not you turned to the man,

“Do you know where I could find this guy called Yangyang?”

“I think we both know that I can’t tell you where Yangyang is,” he replied. You looked back to the food pressing your lips together, it had been worth a shot.

“I would be happy to try and answer any questions you have instead, my name is Yuta, I am a personal assistant of sorts,”

“Another archangel?” you asked. Yuta shook his head.

“Nope, just a demon.”

Yes, just a demon, of course.

Yuta watched you staring at the food and quickly guessed as to why you are hesitant,

“It is perfectly safe to eat; you are an honoured guest of hell.”

“That is exactly what someone who wanted me to eat the torture meal would say,” you replied accusatorily. Yuta laughed to himself slightly,

“If you don’t want to eat it that’s also fine, you will starve for eternity but that is, what as this other demon Johnny often says – not my problem.”

You still wondered if it was reverse psychology, but the hunger pangs had really started to kick in, so you decided to eat the food regardless.

You quickly realised that it wasn’t poisoned and that it was actually some of the most delicious food you had ever eaten.

After you had eaten for a while you looked back at Yuta who was still standing there watching you.

“How come I am allowed to talk to you and not Yangyang?” you asked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he replied. Yuta followed the word of Taeyong just as much as everyone else did, the devil really did seem to have a lot of power.

You stood up from your seat, as you did the dishes and food vanished at a click of Yuta’s fingers. Demon magic. When you headed towards the door Yuta remained where he had always been, unmoving.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose, I’m y/n by the way.” You said just before you left.

“I already knew that,” Yuta grinned. Everyone you had met in Hell acted weirdly, both in general and specifically towards you. You couldn’t figure out why there was no torture or why you had supposedly ended up engaged to Taeyong.

You had thought about asking Yuta more questions, but it seemed like Taeyong didn’t want you to know the answer to your questions and therefore none of his buddies were ever going to tell you, so you didn’t bother.

You went another three weeks before you saw Taeyong again, or anyone else for that matter. The only person you had seen was Yuta who watched you eat every day, would enter into general conversations with you about himself, and tales of demons but would never answer any questions you had or explain anything useful.

“I really need to talk to Taeyong,” you asked him, pretty much pleading at this point.

“Not an option,” Yuta replied.

“Where is he?” you asked for the ninth time that day.

“Hell,”

“Yeah very funny bud. I am not marrying him, I’ve only met him once and then he fucked off, not really the kind of behaviour that would make him a good husband.”

“He will return soon,” Yuta said, clearly trying to hide his own laughter, as a Demon he thrived on your suffering ever so slightly.

“You are annoyingly vague.” You sighed, “Can we not just break the rules, like this is hell can we not just sneak out and go and do something, this house is boring there is nothing to do and I would still really like to talk to Yangyang.”

Yuta pressed his hands together before speaking,

“No, we cannot just ‘break the rules’ Taeyong is all powerful I would rather not piss him off. It is very unboring here, I still have two million years’ worth of top-quality stories lined up, not all of them mine, I will admit. You only met Yangyang like one time, no need to make it twice, furthermore he will not answer your questions either, he too fears those who should be feared.”

You banged your head against the table repeatedly.

“This is definitely Hell!”

“You are rather dramatic y/n.”

You could see Yuta out of the corner of your eye and though he was laughing you could tell he also felt sorry for you.

“I will see what I can do,” he relented. You stopped hitting your head, got up and ran over to Yuta, throwing your arms around him.

“Thank you!” you said in earnest.

At that moment the door on the other side of the room opened and Yuta froze.

“It seems I have been gone too long, my fiancé is turning to other men,”

You let go of Yuta and spun round.

“She was hugging me because I offered to find out where you were…” Yuta tried to explain but you cut him off.

“Yeah well I have only been stuck in this boring house for a whole month with only him to talk to so if we are close that is your own fault.” You shouted at him.

“Don’t shout at him, that’s not gonna end well,” Yuta whispered to you aggressively.

“I am just a little bit angry, no, a lot angry and seeing as I cannot have any friends or meet any people, I will be voicing them to the only two people I am allowed to talk with.”

Taeyong said nothing, he strode over to where you were, grabbed your hand and dragged you from the room.

Yuta looked alarmed as you left. Taeyong led you down several corridors until you reached one of the grandest offices you had seen yet. He let go of your hand and slammed the door behind you.

“I would appreciate it if you were not rude to me in front of the people who work for me.” Taeyong said.

“I would appreciate it if you weren’t such an elusive dickhead.”

“I had … work to attend to,” he said, hand running through his bright red hair.

He was standing only a few feet away from you causing you to notice just how good looking he was for the first time. He had a cut in his eyebrow and a jawline that was stronger than anything.

“Whereas I was stuck here, doing nothing. Yuta is nice and all, but his stories get kinda old after the first thirty. I just don’t understand why I can’t talk to anyone or leave this house, why I can’t know anything about hell.”

“I…” Taeyong almost started to explain but then shut his mouth again, leaning with his hand against the door.

“What are you afraid of me finding out?” you asked him.

Taeyong sneered.

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a secret.” He paused for a moment before walking towards you. “I can’t decide,” he said, “whether to risk falling in love with you.”

“So, you have a bad relationship past?” you guessed. Taeyong said nothing so you assumed you had hit the bullseye.

“See, now we are getting somewhere,” you said, “if you explain things to me life is a lot easier and I won’t resent you as much.”

Taeyong continued walking towards you and you walked backwards away until your back was pressed up against the wall.

“We aren’t alive.” He corrected, you could feel his breath on your face, he was inches away.

Taeyong’s face looked pained, confused.

You don’t know why you did it, maybe it was the lack of physical contact, or the slightly sexual nature of some of Yuta’s stories but you felt like it was the right choice.

You place your hands on Taeyong’s cheeks, pulling his face down towards yours, lips together. You had only meant for it to be an innocent kiss at first, just a few seconds. You didn’t know Taeyong, but you wanted to take away the pained look on his face for just a second.

But as your lips touch you felt a deeper desire, your lips moving against his with a slight sense of urgency. Taeyong’s hands moved to your waist pulling you closer towards him, his grip like iron.

After a minute or two you pulled away, realising that you hadn’t breathed, that you didn’t need to breathe, a surprising perk of Hell. You opened your eyes to see Taeyong staring down at you, the pain still in his eyes, but now mixed with something else, something more positive, you didn’t know quite what.

“I’ve never had a girl kiss me first before,” he remarked. You smiled at him slightly.

“Well I just…” you couldn’t really explain why you did I, you didn’t know, because you still resented this man quite a lot., “It doesn’t mean I forgive you,” you assured him.

Taeyong leaned down and placed a final peck on your lips.

“You have made my choice for me though, there is no way I can avoid falling in love with you now.”

“Yuta are we friends,” you asked him.

“Why do you ask, please don’t ask me you break you out again you know I can’t,” he said, sounding genuinely sorry.

“I just mean if I told you something personal because I needed advice you wouldn’t need to tell Taeyong right? As long as it’s not my plan to break free. I have no girls here to talk to, or even any other boys, you’re my only hope,”

“I don’t see why I would have to tell Taeyong something like that no, so you can count me as a friend on this one.”

“I kissed Taeyong.” You blurted out the second he finished speaking. Yuta blinked a few times, nodding his head slightly.

“Did I really need to know that?” he asked.

“Do you know why I would have done that?”

“This, is the single worst question you have asked me yet, how would I know how your brain functions?” Yuta joked. You sighed, picking up your spoon and placing it in the ice-cream in front of you, that even with demon magic was fast melting due to high temperatures.

A few minutes later you walked back out and started searching the house for whatever room Taeyong was in.

You walked through room after room, to the point where you were not even sure which way was back anymore.

Eventually you came to a room with a door that must have been made out of gold. The door had a picture carved into it of an angel falling from heaven into the fire below. Your feet stopped. It had to be the room you had been searching for.

You knocked loudly but there came no reply, so you pushed the door open slightly, peeking into the room. At first it seemed empty, just like yours had been. There was a wooden bed with a canopy, that looked like one you would see in a period drama. It was ornate and stylish with two bedside tables either side.

Those three pieces of furniture were the only ones in the room.

You felt bad about intruding into someone else’s space, but it didn’t stop you, if you had been a better person you wouldn’t have been there in the first place.

You walked curiously over to the bed and sat down on it, the bed was perfectly made, not even a crease as you ran your hands across the bed covers.

You stared down at the bedside table, something you didn’t have in your own room. The one on the left side was empty, not even a dust particle to be seen.

You rolled over the bed to the other drawer, expecting it too to be empty.

You pulled it open to see a few things inside. There were a few letters which you felt like you shouldn’t read, a pen, a picture of Taeyong and Yuta and at the back of the drawer a small red book.

It wasn’t something you were proud of, but you couldn’t help but peek into the book. The first page was inscribed with a verse:

And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

So, the stories were true. But as you flicked through the pages you only became more confused, some were written in a language you didn’t understand or even recognise, some were filled with cursive handwriting recounting stories, much like the ones Yuta had told you, but it was the final few pages that confused you the most. There were paintings of five girls, each on a separate page.

Each had their name written underneath, a date and a timespan. The first 120AD - 3 months up until the most recent 1827 – 2 months.

In the last entry to the book you saw your own face. It was a picture of you sitting in a café in the sunshine, it had to have been from your life. You were drinking iced tea and laughing like nothing could have stopped your happiness. The date 2020 but no time span.

You didn’t understand what it meant entirely but you weren’t stupid either, you realised you were not the first girl who had ended up here.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the book was snatched away from you. You stared upwards to see Taeyong, eyes dark and unforgiving.

“What gives you the right,” he began through gritted teeth, “to look through other people’s personal items.”

He placed the book back in the drawer.

“I would say you can’t come into this room when I’m not here, but I assume you have already seen all there is to see,” he laughed darkly.

“Who are those girls, what do those dates mean?” you asked, still curious and somehow still unafraid, even though the man in front of you looked ready to kill.

Taeyong said nothing. You placed your hand over his lightly.

“I can only become close to you if you let me, and if we are to get married for whatever mysterious reason of fate, we should be close.”

Taeyong moved his hand back and looked away.

“We don’t need to be close; all that book proves is that in this cursed place, fiancé does not mean future wife.”

“Would you stop being so damned elusive for a fucking second?” you said. Taeyong lifted one eyebrow smirking.

“You don’t understand,” he said.

“Yeah I don’t understand if you don’t tell me.”

Taeyong’s smirk faded until he just looked sad. He looked over at you and smiled slightly.

“You can leave the house if you want, make some friends, just don’t leave the city, it’s not so fun outside the walls of Dis, its where the real sinners go.”

You were surprised, freedom wasn’t what you expected to gain from your trespass into his personal space.

“Why now?”

“Because even though you probably won’t choose hell in the end, I at least don’t want you to resent your time here.”

You walked round the bed to sit closer to him but as you sat down, he stood up.

“I think it is easier for both of us long term if what happened yesterday… doesn’t happen again.” He looked down at the time, “I have some rogue demons to chastise, I’ll get Yuta and Yangyang to show you around town.”

Five hours later you were drunk at a vodka bar in hell where Yuta had disappeared with some girl about an hour previously and you were left laughing with Yangyang until your stomach hurt.

“You have way better stories than Yuta,” you joked as Yangyang recounted a mishap between him, a goat demon and a man who had been sent to hell mostly for his obsession with stealing collectable plates.

“and you,” he replied, “are much more fun to be around than any of Taeyong’s previous ladies,” he said, covering his mouth as soon as he said it, “well fuck,” he finished off.

“Do not fear young fallen angel for I already know of these previous ladies, as in I know they exist and nothing else.”

Yangyang breathed out a sigh of relief.

“If I had let that secret go, well I would probably have been stung by bees for the next couple hundred years, every day at three o’clock.”

“There must be worst tortures?” You prompted. Yangyang shook his head.

“Don’t ever underestimate hell bees,” he said in a statement that sounded like he had his own history with said hell bees and that you shouldn’t press further.

“I know of the ladies and I guess that’s what makes him act weird towards me, but I don’t understand what happened.” You explained.

Yangyang looked around to see who was looking before motioning you to come closer.

“I can tell you, but you never heard it from me,” he said, “I must be drunk to be telling you this. Basically, Taeyong is cursed, not by God that’s just this whole hell thing but in a personal argument with an angel named Taeil. Taeyong once stole Taeil’s fiancé back in heaven, so when he was cast down to hell Taeil vowed to take revenge. Ever since as soon as a girl dies, who is someone Taeyong would definitely fall in love with, Taeil make sure they are sent right to his door, calls them the brides of hell. Well with the first one Taeyong didn’t realise it was Taeil, he just thought he had found his soulmate. Yet three months later Taeil shows up at the gates of hell und summons her fourth, Taeyong following close behind. He offers the girl a chance to go to heaven to have everything she ever wanted, that her going to hell was just a mistake and she is meant to marry him in heaven. And the girl agrees. Because as much as she loved Taeyong she wasn’t willing to give up the idea of eternal paradise for him, same for the next four girls… and now you. With the last one he didn’t even try. He didn’t talk to her once he just kept her locked up until Doyoung came. When she left, she said she hated Taeyong, which hurt him just as much as when he was betrayed.”

You took another shot of vodka.

“Well that… is a story and a half,” you remarked. Yangyang shrugged.

“Did the first girl really love him?” she asked. Yangyang nodded.

“They were happy together, Taeyong isn’t a bad guy to the people he loves, he’s not the same person he was a couple hundred thousand years ago, he’s not a great guy by any means but he was kind to the girl and they loved each other, the first betrayal is still the worst.”

“How could she do that to him if she loved him,” you asked him, you had only known Taeyong a short time and for most of that you had resented him, but you had started to understand him.

“Heaven isn’t something you refuse,” Yangyang said simply.

Before long you were both back to laughing and drinking, increasingly incapacitated. An hour later Yangyang was dragging you back to the steps of Taeyong’s house. He knocked on the door, lazily calling out,

“Taeyong, come and get y/n! I want to go to bed!” he said.

Taeyong appeared at the door a few moments later to see you lying on the ground semi-conscious, cocktail umbrella still in you grasp.

He leaned down and picked you easily, something you welcomed after Yangyang’s drunk drag.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” he said. You shook your head laughing.

“No!” you protested like a stubborn child, “I want to sleep next to you, in your room.”

Taeyong looked somewhat shocked.

“I already explained it would be better if we just kept out distance,” he began before you cut him off. You put your finger over his lips to silence him.

“Starting today,” you said, “I am going to stay with you forever, starting right now, in your bed.”

Taeyong sighed, continuing on to your room before placing you down in your bed, he tried to leave but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Please don’t leave me alone again,” you asked him quietly, “I don’t like being alone in this place.”

Taeyong’s eyes soften, his resolve defeated, he sat down next to you in the bed.

“I really won’t leave you, I won’t go with that mean Taeil guy,”

“Yangyang is so dead,” Taeyong said.

“We’re all dead silly.” You lay back in the bed, pulling Taeyong’s arm so he fell down to lie facing you.

“And you will leave, they all do,” Taeyong explained. You blinked a few times.

“I’m not them, I’m y/n, I’m my own person. And anyway, I bet none of them ever kissed you first.”

“Why did you kiss me?” Taeyong questioned thoughtfully.

“I really don’t know I just suddenly felt like it was the right thing to do in that moment, like fate had been leading up to right then and there.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Taeyong sighed, “we are all just puppets of people like Taeil.”

“For someone who has power over a whole dimension that is a very defeatist attitude.” And before he could protest anymore you placed your hand on his cheek, your fingertips brushing a few strands of his hair,

“Am I really not different to any of those other women? Maybe their choice wasn’t wrong, maybe they just weren’t right for you, maybe I am,”

“I’m scared of you in particular, I have watched parts of your life on earth and I could see myself with you more than anyone before, and that terrifies me,” Taeyong admitted.

“I cause fear in the devil, what a powerful woman I am,” you joked grinning at him, “Don’t underestimate me.”

Taeyong brought his hand up to cover yours that was still rested on your face.

“You said you hate being alone here, why would you ever choose to stay here?” he asked.

“Because I wouldn’t be alone, I would have friends like Yuta and Yangyang and I would have you, Taeil chose me because we are a perfect match, right? Well then we will always be happy, also Yuta assures me he has a few million more stories lined up and I can’t miss out on that.”

Taeyong’s eyes stared into your soul, he licked his lower lip slightly before moving so he was positioned over you, resting on his forearms.

“I really hope that what you say is true,” he said before bringing his lips to meet yours.

A few weeks passed, you didn’t see Taeyong very often, he was still very busy, but he had made your life in hell become somewhat enjoyable. You spent most of your days playing around with Yuta, Yangyang had work to do, and getting to know the city. When you did see Taeyong he still somewhat guarded, but he was a lot more genuine with you.

You were just coming back from a game of throw the devil with Yuta when you noticed a bright white letter sitting on the doorstep, Dear Taeyong was written on the front in cursive writing similar to that of Taeyong’s.

Yuta grimaced at the sight of it. You didn’t have to ask who it was from because you knew it was from him, from Taeil.

“Well it was fun to get to know you,” Yuta said, holding out his hand for you to shake, “I wish you all the best in heaven, it sounds like a great place.”

“I’m not going,” you said. Yuta snorted,

“No one would ever give up that chance, especially not for someone they barely know, you’ve talked to Taeyong, what three four times, you might be crazy but there is no way you’re that crazy.

You looked up at the orange sky above, wishing more than ever that you could remember your past life, so you could understand what choice you would have made when you were alive.

“It doesn’t make sense to me either, maybe I suffered permanent brain damage when I fell down that hole on the way here… but I just have this feeling, a feeling that tells me that I belong here, with Taeyong, with you, with Yangyang, that this is my fate.”

“Don’t suffer a harsh fate just because you feel sorry for the devil,” Yuta exhaled deeply.

“How is this fate harsh?” you asked, “maybe for most people hell is the worst, but I have only had good experiences here, I may have complained about your stories, but they weren’t that bad,”

“Any fate is harsh in comparison to perfection.” Yuta mused.

“It’s almost like you want me to leave,” you joked. Yuta looked at the letter with envy.

“If you want to stay here that’s your choice and I will be happy not to see you go, but it’s not the choice I would make.”

You pushed him slightly on the shoulder to ease the tension.

“You would be bored after five seconds up there,” you said opening the door and kicking your shoes off into the hallway.

You both went to eat and were wrapped up in conversation but neither of you could ignore when you heard the front door slam loudly and Taeyong scream out a list of profanities even from the other side of the house.

You gave Yuta a small smile before hurrying downstairs to try and find Taeyong. He was kneeling in the hallway staring down at the open letter on the floor that was set alight, the pages burning until there was nothing left but ash.

You tried to sit near him to comfort him, but he pulled away.

“I won’t go with him,” you said quietly. Taeyong rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you fucking will, no matter what you say humans are all the fucking same, you’re not special.”

You were taken aback. You had known the letter would upset Taeyong, but you hadn’t expected him to act with such anger.

“I don’t need your stupid fucking pity,” Taeyong hissed, the venom in his voice not something that could be faked, “I may want to love you but at this point I hate you at the same time and I will hate every girl that comes after.”

Your eyes narrowed and you snorted slightly.

“I didn’t pity you before Taeyong,” you said, “but this is pathetic.”

You picked up a vase that was next to you and smashed it on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Taeyong said standing up, alarmed at your sudden violence.

“I don’t remember my life on earth,” you began, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t an angel. I do know who I am now though, I commit petty crimes with Yuta for fun, I am attracted to a man who tortures people for a living, and I broke your vase just because I can. That doesn’t make me evil but I’m not a saint and I certainly don’t see a reason to go to heaven. Call me a narcissist but at least here I’m special, at least you will love me and for whatever reason my brain seems to value that more than eternal glory or whatever.”

“I’m a difficult man and this is a difficult place, I’ve just sheltered you from it so far.” Taeyong said.

You stepped closer to him until your lips were right by his ear.

“Then show me,” you whispered, “show me hell,” you stepped back, “show me what life here is really like and then I can make an informed choice, I can’t chose you if you don’t even give me a chance.”

“That seems fair, you can at least be Queen of Hell for a day” Taeyong agreed.

Which is how you ended up hours later back on the lift out of the city. This time you had no broken bones and you instead wore a dress of fire, courtesy of Yuta’s demon magic.

Taeyong led you through the circles of hell, through all the punishments, betrayers frozen in ice; tyrants and robber forced to swim in boiling blood; the eternal combat of the wrathful sullen and lazy and the lustful caught in the endless violent wind to name but a few.

“Hell is a horrible place for a lot of people, the city of Dis is the exception not the rule, to live there you have to live with that.”

“Then who are the people wondering around, in the villages outside the city?” you asked, not really wanting to dwell on the torture.

“The pain of torture dulls after a few thousand years and those people become free, everyone here is free because of that. After a few thousand years you can just get up and walk away and live a life again. I burned in fire for three thousand years until one day I just walked away and found the demons in the city,” Taeyong explained.

“So, the torture ends?” You asked him. Taeyong nodded,

“Pain has no power if you have experienced 1000 lifetimes of it, it just becomes normal.”

“Then I can live with it.” You said.

Taeyong looked surprised.

“It probably makes me a bad person but then I suppose that justifies my place here but if the torture ends then I can justify within myself living here, marrying you.”

“If I chose to stay, do I have to suffer the thousands of years?” you followed up.

“Does that change your answer?”

You didn’t know. But you didn’t think so, you just didn’t ever want to say something you weren’t totally sure about.

“But no, you wouldn’t, every millennium I can pardon someone, I have saved that for the chance someone ever choses to marry me,”

“Not the pessimist I always thought then,” you giggled. Taeyong laughed,

“It wasn’t optimism, it was fear… though the pain ends, I still didn’t want anyone who had made a choice to stay with me to have to experience it, because while it normalises after a thousand years the first couple hundred really are torture.”

“Well then I can’t really have any objections to hell then, or to such a thoughtful devil as you.”

“Would you like to sleep in my room tonight,” Taeyong asked suddenly.

“I knew there were other perks to Hell,” you joked.

“Well you’re a beautiful girl and I’m certainly no saint.”

When the sky turned from orange to blood red you were in Taeyong’s room. He was sitting up in his bed, shirt unbuttoned slightly, making the room feel even hotter than the inferno it already was.

You fiddled slightly with the bottom of your shirt before pulling it straight off, to reveal the lingerie that had been left in your drawer by Taeyong since day one. Taeyong smiled to himself dragging his finger over his lip slightly.

You continued, pulling down your shorts to reveal your panties, stepping ever closer towards Taeyong, who had begun to take his own shirt off as well, revealing his chest underneath.

You reached back and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the ground as you crawled onto the bed, towards Taeyong, fuelled by new confidence given to you by the look the devil. His eyes burning with lust.

You had barely touched him before he caught your arm and flipped you over, once again resting on his forearms above you but this time he kissed your neck.

“I’m the king of hell, I’m in charge here,” he said, bringing his hand up to massage your breast as he marked your neck, causing you to illicit a moan, any plans you had slipping away.

You watched him grin as he pulled away,

“You’re beautiful,” he noted. You noticed the same thing about him, it was clear he used to be an angel, but the scars on his chest, a product of hell somehow only made him more attractive. As you both paused your eyes travelled down to his underwear, where a wet patch had already formed at the tip of his dick.

Taeyong caught you staring,

“Wanna suck?” he asked and so you nodded but Taeyong stopped you as you leaned down to touch him.

“I want to hear you say it, I want to hear the sinful words, worth of the Queen of Hell.”

You had no problem obliging, you didn’t think there was anything you wouldn’t do for this man at this point and you still weren’t a hundred percent sure why.

“I want to suck your cock, I want to choke on it” you said to him with a small smile, before once again leaning down and pulling at his waistband. Taeyong was pleasantly surprised by your own addition to the statement,

‘I didn’t realise you were such a good slut,” he grinned a grin that quickly turned into a moan as you took him into your mouth, pushing your head down until you felt him against the back of your throat causing you to gag before moving back up and down again. As you sucked you looked up at Taeyong, tears forming in your eyes, never breaking eye contact.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he said. It didn’t take long until Taeyong’s breathing got heavier and you swallowed his warm cum that burst into your mouth, not missing a drop.

He recovered quickly and before you realised it, he was kissing you again, his hands wasting no time in removing your own panties, that were already soaked.

“I’m glad I have this effect on you,” Taeyong smirked as he chucked them across the other side of the room. Taeyong’s fingers stroked over your wet entrance but before he could slide a finger in you grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Not today, I just want to feel you inside me,” you asked, and he was happy to oblige, just as you had been.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded. When you were ready you could feel him rubbing his dick over your wet folds, teasing you.

“I’ve gone months without sex down here because of you, just fuck me, please,” you begged. Taeyong immediately thrust his full length into you, but despite this initial urgency, he kept a slow torturous pace.

You whined in complaint which had no effect on Taeyong’s actions.

“This is what you get instead of a thousand years of torture baby, and also you feel so good, so tight around me, I want to savour it.” He said.

You moved your hips back to meet Taeyong, trying to get him to increase his pace.

“I’m sure Taeil would fuck me harder,” you teased which was all it took.

“So that’s the game you want to play,” Taeyong smirked before pulling out completely. Before you could even complain about the loss Taeyong thrust back into you again in tandem with a smack on your ass.

“You’re a bad girl, and bad girls get bad treatment.” He kept one hand on your hip and one hand grabbed your hair as he pumped into you hard and fast, your moans getting louder each time.

“If you don’t shut up Yuta will here you,” Taeyong complained, “but I bet a naughty slut like you would like that wouldn’t you,”

You moaned in agreement.

“I want to hear you say it,” Taeyong said, smacking your ass again.

“I’m a naughty slut who wants Yuta to hear me fucking you.” Taeyong groaned at your sinful words, his dick beginning to twitch inside you.

A few seconds later you felt his cum inside you and Taeyong continue to fuck it into you, which was enough to push you over the edge.

“Fuck!” you screamed out as Taeyong kept fucking you through the aftershocks, before pulling out and getting you to kay down next to him.

“I love you y/n,” he said, his eyes filled with affection, “even if you are a naughty girl.”

Two days later Taeil appeared at your door. It was 3pm in the afternoon when he knocked. Taeyong answered the door and went outside first, you didn’t go until he called you a few minutes later.

“Hello y/n, I am Taeil, Angel of Heaven.” He introduced himself.

“I am aware,” you replied curtly. You could see the fear in Taeyong’s eyes, and it made you want to cry, you couldn’t believe he still thought you would leave him.

“I am here to give you the chance to come to heaven, where you can have everything you ever wanted and live in perfect peace, instead of a tumultuous eternity in hell.” He began but you cut him short.

“I am fine here actually but thanks for the offer.”

Taeil didn’t look phased, maybe it had taken a while before the others agreed.

“I can give you everything, memories of your life on earth, the chance to meet your family again, here you will endure years of pain.”

You remained resolute.

“That’s a no thank you, have a nice day,” you said grabbing Taeyong’s hand and moving to head back inside

Taeil stopped you, his arm placed in front of you. He reached into his pocket and played a scene into your mind.

It was what you guessed was heaven and all you could feel was an immense sense of peace, you saw people around you smiling and cheers of laughter not screams.

“My answer is still no,” you said. Taeil looked perplexed.

“No one who has seen heaven has ever turned it down, what could be better than the everlasting peace?” he asked.

You looked up at Taeyong who still looked frantically worried and smiled. You saw Yuta hopping from foot to foot behind a bush with Yangyang to eavesdrop what was happening.

“Everlasting love,” you replied, “Everlasting friendship,” you continued, “and besides I reckon hell must be more fun anyway.”

Taeil took a few steps back, something close to anger appearing on his face.

“If you turn this offer down, I will never give it to you again,” Taeil asked. You shrugged.

“Have a nice flight back,” was all you said before leaning up and giving Taeyong a kiss on the cheek.

“I won’t want what I can have because I have all the things I need, and that is my peace.”

Taeyong wrapped his arms around you grinning,

“You really are one of a kind, kissed me first girl,” he remarked. Taeil scoffed.

“Have fun being damned together,” he said before heading back out the gate.

“Being damned never looked so good!” Yangyang called from behind the bush. You laughed, sure at that moment you had made the right choice.

Even if you hadn’t Taeil came back every year for the next thirty years, despite promising it would be the last each time, unwilling to accept that he had lost. Each time you found a creative way of telling him to get lost. Each year Taeyong looked less and less scared that you would leave him until he finally realised you never would.

“Get lost Taeil!” He called out, “My wife isn’t interested in your schemes and she never will be,” he shouted before he proceeded to make out with you in a very non-PG way causing Taeil to cover his eyes and run. After that he never returned.

A hundred years later you sat with Taeyong under the orange sky and smiled.

“Do you believe in fate now?” you asked, rubbing your thumb on the outside of his hand.

“I believe in my love for you, be that fate, the end to my torture or just sheer luck. Whichever it is I’m thankful for it, because hell is lonely but when you have someone with you, it’s just a very warm place with a lot of alcohol and screaming.”

Maybe the second part wasn’t so eloquent, but it was right. Hell wasn’t something to be feared when you had someone by your side. Because for Taeyong being alone had been more torturous than the fire.

At that moment Yuta’s demon child ran into the garden and set fire to the tablecloth and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Yuta then threw the child about a mile, probably a demon throwing high score.

The afterlife you had chosen wasn’t what most people had chosen, most people didn’t even get a choice and so when Taeyong kissed you in the darkness lit up by flames you felt like someone who was lucky. You didn’t know why this was the afterlife you lived or why Taeyong had ever meant so much. But you final realised that you didn’t need to know. That sometimes things could have vague answers and that was okay. As long as your love for Taeyong was clear, then so was the choice you had made.

As you had once shouted at Taeil whilst chucking a demon at him,

“What’s so good about resting in peace anyway,” you found resting in chaos much more entertaining.

[erin-bo-berin]

Baby Shoes

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is here! This takes place over the course of a year and is told from Spencer’s perspective and how he handles his grief. Also, just a note. I’m aware I jumped from two months to four months. At first, I was going to do like every couple of months, but then I had ideas for the upcoming months and just left it like that. So just a heads up, it’s not a typo.

TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who’s ever went through a miscarriage. I don’t know if anyone who has might stumble upon this, but if you aren’t in the right headspace to read something like this then please don’t. Even though this is a work of fiction, I know it’s a very real, hard and triggering subject for some. So if you’re in a bad headspace and find yourself not being able to read this, I understand completely.

Sit back, relax (maybe with some tissues cause this hurt to write) and enjoy all 11k words. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst)

Word Count: 11,051

Spencer woke to sounds of laughter.

He opened his eyes to see early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He figured it had to be around 7:00, maybe 7:30.

He tossed the sheets off his body, getting out of bed.

He could hear Y/N’s voice as he walked down the hall from the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He recognized another sound as the television playing, as well.

The scent of freshly cooked bacon wafted from the direction of the kitchen. He thought he smelled pancakes too.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he saw Y/N at the stove fixing breakfast, their little girl sitting at her feet on the floor, chewing on a toy of hers.

Sensing his entrance, her tiny head turned, grinning big when she spotted him. 

She was quite literally the perfect mixture of him and Y/N. She had his curls, but Y/N’s hair color. Her eye shape and color was all Spencer, but her lips and mouth came from Y/N. She had Spencer’s nose, yet Y/N’s face shape. Her smile was as bright as her father’s and her skin the shade of her mother’s. 

It seemed, in theory, to be the weirdest combination of small features from both of them, but it worked. She was the most perfect little girl.

But then again, he was a tad bit biased.

The toy fell from her fist to the floor with a clang, forgotten for the moment as she crawled in his direction.

“Da da da da,” she babbled.

Y/N turned, finally noticing Spencer’s entrance.

“Morning,” she grinned at him, “You must’ve slept well, your bed head is insane.”

He chuckled, picking his little girl up in his arms, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

“Well I guess I know where her crazy bed head comes from,” he grinned, motioning to his daughter.

“I’ll say,” Y/N shook her head, exasperated, “By the way, breakfast is almost ready.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite, keeping it out of reach of the grabby baby hands.

“Do you mind feeding her while I finish this up? She’s getting hungry.”

“Sure,” he smiled, carrying her to her high chair, sitting her in it.

She immediately started fussing. She hated being constricted. Whether it was her high chair or her carrier, she wasn’t much of a happy camper not being able to be on the move. 

“I know, baby,” he cooed, “But daddy’s got breakfast for you.”

He grabbed the plate of cut up scrambled eggs and put some on the tray of her high chair. She stopped fussing, reaching a hand for the fluffy egg. Apparently, if food was involved, she’d tolerate being in the chair.

She held out a piece of egg to Spencer and he ate it out of her hand, making her smile big. His heart was so full of love for his daughter that he didn’t think it could expand any more than it already had. But every day, his heart grew just a little bit more, his love for her ever growing for as she herself grew.

He ran a hand over her mess of curls, kissing her head.

“I love you, baby girl.”

That was when his alarm rang.

Spencer laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. This time, he was awake for real.

This time, he was waking to reality.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream he’d had. One that was always recurring, one way or another.

What hurt the most was the fact that the dream represented exactly what his life was supposed to look like.

But life, as many knew, could be unfairly cruel.

•

It had been January 3rd. 

The holiday season had officially wrapped up; everyone was still in a holiday hangover mode and probably going back to work and school.

But for Spencer, it was the best day ever.

Y/N had taken at least half a dozen pregnancy tests, unbeknownst to him, before she finally told him.

He’d about fell off the couch in alarm when he’d heard her shriek from the bathroom. In a flash, he’d rushed to the bathroom, fearing something was wrong. He paused at the doorway, where she had been about to exit, to find him.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked, clearly panicked.

His eyes quickly scanned her for any injuries, blood, anything wrong. But she was crying. And smiling. The two displays of emotion couldn’t seem to connect in his brain, his worry clouding his thinking. He was so preoccupied with making sure she was okay, that he didn’t even notice the spread of pregnancy tests that laid on their bathroom counter.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He was reaching out to her, when she spoke.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her smile growing even more impossibly wide.

Spencer was so stunned for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. It was as if it took a minute for the words to leave her mouth and reach his brain.

Her forehead creased, now concerned that he wasn’t as happy about the news as she was.

Then, it finally clicked.

“You’re pregnant?!” he exclaimed, his entire face lighting up.

He was smiling so big; his dazzling smile was showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes that sparkled with joy were also crinkling at the corners. It was one of Y/N’s favorite looks on him. It was hard not to be happy when he smiled so big.

She nodded, still a bit apprehensive at his hesitation. She showed him the test.

“I’ve taken six. All came back positive.”

Then he did something that really surprised her. Spencer quite literally hooted from joy. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as he spun her around a time or two.

Her squeals of laughter warmed his heart as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin.

They had talked in depth about having children many, many times before. They both adored kids with all of their hearts and wanted to have their own some day. In fact, it most likely wasn’t a typical day unless one or the other made some sort of mention about their future kids.

They hadn’t been actively trying though. It was more of a case for them of letting it happen when it was supposed to happen. Apparently, it was in the cards for them that it happened sooner than they even expected it to.

“So you’re not upset, are you?” she asked when he finally set her down.

She chewed at her bottom lip. Something she tended to do when she was nervous.

She was still the tiniest bit concerned after seeing his blank face for the first couple of seconds.

“No! No,” Spencer reassured her, “You just caught me so off guard that it took me a minute to realize what you’d actually said.”

She chuckled.

“I know. I actually did a double take when I took the first test. I didn’t believe it, so I obviously had to check...five more times. Guess that explains why I almost puked at the smell of the turkey at Christmas.”

Spencer smiled, his hand resting on her stomach. It would still be a while before the signs of pregnancy would start to appear, but the thought of this tiny child that they’d both created was currently growing inside of her still amazed him.

His eyes met hers, their excitement and joy mirroring one another’s. 

It was going to be the start of an amazing new year.

•

A doctor’s appointment was scheduled to confirm the pregnancy.

After blood work and the other necessities, it was confirmed that Y/N was around six weeks pregnant. Spencer was overjoyed.

A due date of August 9th was set. Then it was time for the ultrasound.

A tiny nugget appeared on the screen. It literally looked like the size of a peanut.

“It’s our little peanut,” Spencer smiled, squeezing her hand.

Thus, the nickname Peanut was born. They’d use it at least until they found out the sex of the baby. Until then, Peanut it would be.

They both gazed in awe at the ultrasound screen as the tech checked to make sure everything was on track with the pregnancy, the baby was growing well, etc. It was surreal to Spencer to see this tiny life on the screen. One that ultimately belonged to both Y/N and him.

He didn’t expect to feel such an overwhelming amount of emotions as he was currently experiencing. 

He was happy, of course. He was nervous; becoming a parent was a big deal. That along with fear melded together as one, he was going to be partially responsible for this child.

He felt awe, he felt surprise, still not able to believe this was real.

But most importantly, he felt love. His heart was so filled with it. For the baby that he would meet at the end of this summer, for Y/N, the love of his life and all she was going to experience in the coming months to give this child shelter and then eventually, life.

After the appointment and with a copy of the ultrasound in hand, they headed home. He couldn’t wait to show the team the picture. 

This baby wasn’t even a full two months old yet, but he was already so proud of his child.

“He or she will definitely have your nose. I will riot if they don’t,” Y/N chuckled, looking at the picture.

“What? Why?”

His light laugh filled the car, amused by her statement.

“Because you have the cutest nose ever and our baby better have it,” Y/N pointed out.

It was then a thought occurred to him.

“I need to make a quick stop.”

-

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had returned to the car, a bag in hand. He’d made Y/N wait in the car while he chose his item. It was going to be a surprise.

“What’d you get?” she asked, trying to reach for the bag.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “It’s just something for the baby.”

He set the bag in the backseat, on the floor behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t reach.

“Well then why can’t I see?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled.

He thought back to earlier in the store when he finally found what he had been looking for. He held one in the palm of his hand, amazed at how small they were.

They were perfect.

He paid for them and walked out with his new purchase, anxious to surprise Y/N at a later date with them.

They were a pair of baby converse shoes, in black, just like Spencer’s.

•

The entirety of the BAU were thrilled with the news. From the team to even other members who Spencer very rarely, if ever, worked with.

The ultrasound picture was passed around, Spencer beaming the entire time as they gave their congratulations, hugs, kisses and high fives.

“What do you know? The day has finally come that Dr. Spencer Reid has created offspring,” Luke Alvez joked.

“Hush,” Penelope Garcia scolded her boyfriend, “We’re all so excited for you, Spencer.”

“I knew it would happen,” Jennifer Jareau smiled, gazing at the picture, “Finally I get to be an aunt.”

David Rossi even threw a small celebration for them at his house for them with amazing, authentic Italian food and good wine—well, sparkling juice for Y/N.

There were many jokes, many smiles, many laughs and a lot of love.

Spencer was on cloud nine.

It was the best month ever.

•

January flew by.

Spencer was constantly busy with both his work and home life.

He and Y/N spent hours online looking at pictures for nursery inspiration. They looked at cribs, toys, clothes, both for little boys and little girls, dreaming of how cute Peanut would look in said outfit.

They researched names, already tossing names back and forth to get a feel of what one another liked and didn’t like.

He was relieved to know that so far, the first trimester had been pretty good to Y/N. Other than exhaustion and mild nausea, no other symptoms seemed to plague her at the moment.

Spencer could hardly wait for the weeks to pass. He was excited to watch their baby grow both inside the womb and outside.

It was another typical night getting ready for bed after a long day. Work had been long hours of paperwork on the latest case they’d just wrapped up.

As he had been doing, Spencer rubbed Y/N’s belly, talking to Peanut before settling in for the night.

“Good night Peanut,” he kissed her belly, “Get a good night’s sleep so you can grow big and strong and finally show everyone you’re in there.”

She chuckled, knowing good and well that Spencer was anxious for the pregnancy bump to finally appear.

He kissed her, told her goodnight and wished her sweet dreams before falling asleep at just about the same time his head hit the pillow.

February 3rd had been just another normal day.

-

Spencer was shook awake and his eyes shot open, his first thought being that he’d overslept and was going to be late for work.

He sat up, noticing that instead of the morning light filling the room, there was only a small glow from the bedside lamp lighting the room. It was still dark outside.

“Spencer.”

Something in Y/N’s tone made his stomach clench in dread. Her voice was choked and slightly shaky.

He turned her way, as she pushed the covers back, his eyes landing on the alarming pool of red staining the bedsheet.

“I won’t stop bleeding,” her voice cracked.

The next hour was filled with a flurry of activity. Him rushing her to the hospital, the nerve wracking time spent waiting on the doctor, the tests, the blood. All the blood.

It was like crimson laughter in their faces.

The doctor’s words were the nail in the coffin.

“You’ve miscarried, I’m so sorry.”

They were separated for a short while during the necessary procedure, due to her heavy, incessant bleeding. She had only been ten weeks.

It was February 4th. The day they lost their baby.

•

One Day

The ride home was awkward and silent. No words could be said. They didn’t even know what to say.

She was traumatized, he could tell by the haunted look in her tearful eyes.

She’d had to have a D&C, known as a Dilation & Curettage, for medical reasons. The doctor was too concerned about the amount of blood she was losing to let her go home and miscarry naturally.

He obviously hadn’t been through the procedure himself, but he knew it had to be traumatizing to think of a foreign object having to scrape out the remnants of the failed pregnancy.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but cruelly compare this ride home to the one just a month prior. He felt hollow, like he was stripped of all his emotions. He couldn’t even cry.

He’d never known such a deep pain.

Where does one go from that?

•

One Month

He tried his best to comfort Y/N, but nothing ever seemed to work.

He’d tried to hold her while she cried, but she didn’t want to be touched.

He’d tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to talk.

He’d tried finding a therapist for her to see, but she didn’t want to go.

The subject of the miscarriage was taboo. They never spoke of it. It felt as if it had been erased from their lives all together, like the remnants of chalk on a chalkboard. 

His teammates were as devastated as he was, as if it was their own child they’d lost. 

When he told them, there was no need for words. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of apologies, a lot of if you need anything, let me know.

No one said it would be okay. He hadn’t even said it to Y/N because it wasn’t okay. They’d lost their child. A baby that never had a chance to grow, never had a chance to meet the outside world, one they would never get to meet.

It had been a month and he hadn’t cried.

He figured Y/N had done enough crying for the both of them. 

He felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. She was the one that had to go through the traumatic procedure, the one that had to discover the puddle of blood in the middle of the night. She was the one who blamed herself and her body for not being able to keep the baby alive.

He had no right to cry.

Sometimes, he heard her crying into her pillow at night when she thought he was asleep. He desperately wanted to hold her. He wanted to make everything okay. But he didn’t know if that was even possible.

-

It was one morning while he was getting ready for work when he found them.

He had just picked out his suit for the day from the closet when a bag tumbled and fell at his feet. He bent to pick it up, not realizing just yet what it was.

He peered inside, curiously, to see what it was before putting it back where it had fallen from.

His heart dropped when he spotted the pair of spotless, brand new baby Converse. He’d forgotten he’d hid it in the closet where Y/N wouldn’t find them, to surprise her later.

They had been forgotten amidst the chaos of the last several weeks.

He balled up the bag, stuffing it at the back of the closet where he didn’t have to see them again before shutting the door to both the closet and his heart.

•

Two Months

Spencer was thoroughly grateful for the recent heavy workload. Not that people being murdered was a good thing.

At least serial killers kept his mind busy.

“Spence, if you need some time off…” Emily Prentiss, friend, teammate and BAU Unit Chief offered hesitantly.

“Emily, I’m fine okay? Have I been doing a bad job lately?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. You’ve been doing excellent work,” Emily answered, truthfully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

She flinched just the tiniest bit at his sharper than normal tone. Most people would’ve missed it, but his trained, profiler eyes caught it.

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve been working a lot lately, staying late.”

He shrugged.

“Just staying on top of my work.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? You know, ever since…” she trailed off, hesitant to even mention the miscarriage.

That was something that was similar to how things at home were. No one mentioned the miscarriage and not out of respect, but more out of fear or the fact they just didn’t know what to say. He could see it in all their eyes though, always wondering.

He just wished they weren’t so worried about him. They could talk about it. He wouldn’t spontaneously lose it.

But at the same time, he was grateful they didn’t bring it up. Sometimes he was afraid that if the topic was broached that he would either break down or do the opposite and throw something.

Either way, work was ideal for keeping his mind focused.

“I’m okay.”

She seemed to believe him because she just nodded and left to head to her office without another word.

Work was about the only stable thing in his life right now.

He had gotten to where he dreaded going home because he couldn’t stand hearing Y/N cry. He never knew what to say.

Even when he’d tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

How could he help her when she didn’t want to be helped?

Working late made it a bit easier to go home. He didn’t have to face her heartbreak. 

She was usually asleep by the time he crawled into bed, something he silently was thankful for, even if it did make him feel like a shitty person.

She had just recently gotten her first period since losing the baby. That was as close as they had gotten to actually talking about it.

Apparently, this period was the worst she’d had. She’d curled up in bed with bad cramps and had hardly left it for the last few days.

He hoped it was only because of her period.

•

Four Months

People said some of the most disheartening things.

It was apparent that sometimes, people just didn’t know what to say in a situation. In fact, sometimes it was appropriate to say nothing at all.

A variety of Y/N’s family members told her things like:

Well at least you can try for another one.

You’re young, you’ll have plenty of kids.

What’s to stop you from trying again?

Well at least it wasn’t a planned pregnancy.

Even strangers, when informed of the situation, had said things along the lines of you’ll have another baby.

That was the worst thing to say to anyone who had been in this same scenario. There was no way of knowing if any of that was true.

No one would say that to people who had lost a baby after it was born, so why say it to anyone who had lost an unborn baby?

The insensitive words were like a hammer to glass to Y/N’s mental health. Spencer could see her shrinking more into herself as the days passed.

She never said it, but he knew she blamed herself.

He also knew she had to talk about it, to heal.

“Y/N. We really need to talk about it,” Spencer told her, one day.

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word to her. He was almost afraid of what it would do to her.

“I told you Spencer, I don’t want to.”

“I understand that. But you need to talk about it. You need to get it out of your head.”

She shrugged, not seeming to care. He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t help if she resisted, but he was willing to push a bit too.

“What if we went to a sort of group therapy? You don’t have to talk, just listen to other people’s stories.”

“No.”

“Please,” he almost begged.

He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted to do was to help her.

It was also a distraction from the turmoil that seemed to roll in him like a rebellious ocean wave, getting stronger by the day. But he had to remain strong, he needed to be her support.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to talk to someone, but she actually agreed.

With a quick online search, he found a support group that met every Saturday at 10 a.m. They were going to join the next one.

-

“I was eight weeks,” a woman with auburn hair, named Lily said.

“I found out I was pregnant when I was only a month along, so pretty early on,” she laughed half heartedly.

Spencer sat next to Y/N, holding her hand. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get her here this morning. Maybe because all the fight had left her, maybe she was ready to heal. Whatever it was, he was glad they were here.

The support group was rather casual. Just a dozen or so metal folding chairs placed in a circle. Anyone was welcome to share their story. You could just sit and listen. So far, all they’d done was listen. This was the second story they’d heard.

“I started cramping about ten hours before everything started. I didn’t think of much of it since I knew some cramping is normal in pregnancy. I had to be up early for work, so I went to bed early, hoping a good night’s sleep would help.”

Spencer could feel the tight squeeze of Y/N’s grip. He knew this was hard for her. It was for him, too.

“I woke up two hours before I had to be at work. I was bleeding a lot,” Lily’s voice cracked as she tried not to cry.

“I went to use the bathroom before going back to sleep and that’s when I noticed a gray clump.”

A few of the others reached over squeezing Lily’s arms or rubbing her back, giving her encouragement to continue.

“I was shaking and crying when I went to wake my husband. We went to the ER and they later confirmed that I had miscarried.”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she’d been holding in her hands.

“That was last year. Sometimes it still hurts as much as it did in that moment. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Me and my husband have been trying to conceive again, but haven’t had any luck. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I feel so guilty for wanting to be pregnant again even though I lost a child.”

A chair scraped back against the linoleum floor. It took a moment for Spencer to realize it was Y/N’s.

She stood, running out of the room before he could call after her.

The rest of the group eyed him sympathetically and he mumbled an apology and excused himself.

He found her outside by the car, sobbing her heart out.

“Y/N,” he tried to touch her arm.

She jerked away from his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

He stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

“How could you drag me to something like this?!”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help.”

“You really think it helps to hear women talk about something that was one of the worst days of my life?” she cried, “It didn’t help! It just made me want to forget about it more!”

“Y/N, please,” he said, trying once again to pull her towards him.

“No. I hate you! I hate you for making me come here!”

With that, she spun on her heel, jerking the car door open and getting in, slamming it behind her.

He stood, staring at the place she had just been standing. He wanted to jerk the car door open himself. He wanted to yell too.

He wanted to yell that he’d lost a baby too.

But he didn’t. He simply got in the car quietly and drove home.

•

Five Months

The dreams started in the summer.

Usually it would be some sort of dream where Spencer would wake up to Y/N and their child. It usually differed if it was a boy or a girl.

One dream he’d had recently, he’d taken his little boy to the playground. He watched the toddler play in the sandbox, go down the slide, proud of doing it by himself for the first time. Then he swung on one of the bright yellow swings. He even teeter-tottered in Spencer’s lap. Spencer was too afraid to let the little boy be on it by himself just yet.

It had felt so real, being there on that cool fall day watching his child play, oblivious to everything in the world but his gleeful joy of having the entire playground to himself.

The dreams bothered Spencer more than he cared to admit. Yet, he told no one about them. Not even Y/N.

Things were tense with them, more so than ever. After her outburst because of the support group, they never went back. They also spoke less. 

They hadn’t even been intimate since the ordeal.

Not that he had expected to, but this was different than just the normal grieving. He could feel cracks starting to appear in their relationship. It felt like cracks were starting to appear in the concrete protective layer around his heart, that shielded off his emotions.

It was like living with a stranger, sharing a bed with a stranger.

Sometimes he wondered who was worse off, Y/N or himself.

•

Six Months 

August was the hardest month yet.

If Y/N had still been pregnant, she would’ve been having the baby soon, if she hadn’t already.

He often wondered what the baby would have looked like. If he or she would’ve looked more like Y/N or more like him. Would it have been stubborn like Y/N? Smart like him? Outgoing like her? Shy like him? What would have been the baby’s favorite toy? Would it have crawled early? Maybe start walking before they were a year old?

The thoughts of a future that they weren’t able to have with this baby were the most toxic thing to his mentality. It was like the “what ifs”; once you started thinking about them, you couldn’t stop.

JJ was the only one to mention it at work that day. 

They’d only gotten back the night before from a case in California. 

Lately, time away from each other was the best thing for him and Y/N. Gone was the playful, loving relationship they’d had.

In its place was a cold, frigid, fragile relationship. 

Spencer was at a loss of what to do anymore. All they did was bicker. That was something they’d never done much of before.

Sure, they’d had arguments, a few bad ones here and there, but these were much worse. 

There was a mountain of unsaid words between them that had been steadily built over the last half year. He knew it was as much as his fault as it was hers, but at one point he actually thought it would soon resolve itself.

He never expected it to get to this point.

“How are you?” JJ asked, leaning against the edge of his desk.

By this point he was torn between being tired of being asked how he was and actually wanting to be asked how he was. Besides his best friends and teammates, no one had asked how he was. Not even Y/N.

He gave a little shrug, which of course she saw right through.

“Today was her due date, wasn’t it?”

He had to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. She had had a miscarriage herself. In fact, hers was in a horrible way as well. She lost her baby after being injured in an explosion. If anyone, JJ would understand that sort of pain.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“How are you, really?” she asked.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“Is Y/N not any better?” 

JJ had been the only one he’d confided in about his current relationship problems. Even though she didn’t know what to say, she listened.

“No. Things are awful.”

He’d been resorting to sleeping in an interview room every now and then. JJ caught him once and only then did she realize just how badly things had gotten.

“She still doesn’t want to talk about it?” she frowned.

Spencer shook his head.

“Maybe she’s only following your lead, Spence,” she pointed out gently.

His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t grieved properly yourself, have you?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. But JJ had known him for over 15 years. She didn’t have to hear the answer to know what it was.

“I know you hold your emotions close to you, so tightly in fact that you don’t show them at all. You busy yourself with helping others, burying yourself in work, doing anything but processing your emotions. You know as well as I do that that isn’t healthy.”

He remained quiet, staring at his desk. He really didn’t feel like being lectured right now.

“She’s just doing the exact same thing in her own way. Instead of not showing her emotions, she refuses to talk about it, which she thinks would help her heal and move on. Just like facing your grief would help you heal.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he listened.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Her tone was firm. The tone of a concerned friend.

He looked up at her. He was almost positive the pain shone in his eyes.

“A miscarriage is a strange thing. You’re grieving the loss of a person who you never even met. You’re grieving for the person that baby never got to become, for the moments and memories you’d never get. It’s a hard thing to process and it’s hard on both the mother and the father. You may not have gone through the physical aspects that Y/N did, but you were still there. It was your baby that you lost too.”

This much he knew. It was the thought that was constantly in the back of his head, desperately trying to trigger all the emotions he’d been repressing.

“You both need to heal, Spence,” she said softly, “Because it’s much harder to fix a broken relationship when both people are just as broken.”

With that, she left him with his thoughts.

-

If he thought the day would get any better, it didn’t.

Y/N wasn’t home when he came home that night. It was after 10 p.m. when she finally stumbled in, drunk.

“Where were you?” 

Spencer had been worried. If it weren’t for the fact that all her clothes and belongings were still in the house, he would’ve thought that she’d left him. Even after that irrational thought, he was worried for her well being.

“Like you care,” she mumbled, stumbling as she kicked her heels off.

“If you checked your phone, you would see I called and text you dozens of times asking where you were!” he said, exasperated.

“I went out for a drink,” was all the explanation she gave.

“Clearly you had more than one,” he mumbled.

“I’m an adult, I can,” she huffed, “Besides it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He winced at her remark. It cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wow, aren’t you a smart one?” 

The sarcasm dropped from her tongue like honey.

“Go get changed. I’m gonna make you some coffee so you can sober up.”

He rubbed his forehead, already tired of this argument. It wasn’t even a bad one at that. It just showed how drained he’d become lately, mentally and emotionally.

“I don’t need your help,” she mumbled, heading down the hallway to the bedroom, “I’m going to bed.”

She may not have needed his help, but he was there with her all night as she vomited in the toilet almost every hour. He held her hair back and rubbed her back.

Her drunken tears, he knew, were a true reflection of her sober emotional state.

When it seemed like she would be able to keep something down, he fetched her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen to fend off the hangover she was sure to have in the morning.

The day had finally ended, finally becoming a day in the past.

As he finally laid down to sleep that night, he felt like another piece of him had crumbled away. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself there was to break.

He slept on the couch that night. It was the first of many nights there.

•

Seven Months

Spencer found himself paying more and more attention to children around him.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He so desperately wanted to be a father. 

He wanted to hear the sweet baby gurgles and baby talk. He wanted to hear them say dada for the first time. He wanted to see them begin to crawl, learn to walk, turn from baby to toddler, from toddler to child.

He wanted to hear the patter of feet and the peals of happy laughter as they played. He wanted to be greeted by his kids running for him when he walked in the door from work. He wanted to read them bedtime stories and take them for ice cream.

He wanted to play with them and cuddle them and hear them say I love you daddy.

Most of all, he wanted that with Y/N.

As hard as things had become, he still couldn’t picture himself loving anyone like he loved her. 

Cases with children were getting tougher for him to shut out after they had solved it. It was hard to see parents with their children. 

He was angry at the world. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been good enough to be a father already.

What if it was because he wasn’t home enough? Or because his job was too dangerous?

The baby would’ve been roughly a month old now. It would’ve lost some of its birth weight to gain it back again, its features would be steadily changing every day, looking a little bit different than it had the day before.

It would probably start smiling a little bit by now, even be aware of the sights and sounds around it.

If only things had been different.

•

Eight Months

Life had slowly begun to fall apart around him.

If Spencer thought he’d felt numb before, then this was what that had been, but ten times worse.

He went through the motions of life on autopilot.

Work.

Home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He shut out his friends, not bothering to return calls. Lying about how he was, how things were, just to appease them.

After an almost fatal mistake on his part on a current case, Emily told him to take some time off.

It wasn’t a suggestion either.

It had been months since things were amicable with Y/N. Sometimes it felt like the way their relationship previously was had been in another lifetime.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d said I love you to each other.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her or held her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal.

Alone at home for an unknown amount of time, Spencer was forced to acknowledge something.

He was broken.

•

Nine Months 

Things seemed to have made a bit of improvement. The time away from work surprisingly seemed to help a bit.

Y/N seemed to be in a better headspace than she had been. Maybe not completely great, but they were speaking again.

It was tentative at first. It was something as simple as asking if he needed anything at the grocery store.

“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.

“Well I was thinking of making chicken cacciatore for dinner tonight,” she said softly.

That caught his attention. It was one of his favorite dishes of hers.

Whether it was a peace offering or an olive branch of sorts, he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck and accept it.

“That sounds good.”

He offered a small smile, one which she returned.

That night, they ate dinner in the same room together, actually at the kitchen table. They weren’t hiding away in different rooms, passing one another like ghosts, but were actually enjoying each other’s company again.

No serious stuff was discussed. 

They talked about how his work was going and how her part time job as a secretary was going—she’d gotten a part time job shortly before the incident, not because of money, but something to do. He hadn’t been the only one diving into work a lot more in the past months. Most of the time when she hadn’t been home, she had been at work, volunteering to take on extra hours.

It was kind of sad when Spencer thought about it. How they both volunteered to do extra work just so they could avoid each other and the elephant in the room.

They talked about the new season of a show they’d begun watching ages ago, how they needed to watch it. Whether they actually would or not was yet to be seen.

At the end of the day, it was a step in the right direction for them. Maybe things would get better after all.

•

Ten Months 

Spencer should’ve known better than anyone as a profiler that when you ignore trauma, you ignore pain, it will only manifest itself. Sometimes the smallest thing can trigger it and when, not if, it’s triggered, it’s like a dam breaking.

That was what happened approximately ten months post incident.

He was a pro at focusing his attention on anything other than things that desperately needed to be dealt with. 

That was how he found himself searching for the wrapping paper, offering to wrap some presents for her family.

It was now December, the year almost ready to end. In a way, he was relieved to leave this year in the soon to be past.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it had been the worst year of his life.

Rustling through the junk of clothes and other things in the bedroom closet, he had no luck finding any wrapping paper.

What he did find was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

He stared at it for a few beats before deciding to pick it up and look at it. With unsteady hands, he reached for the crinkled and slightly dusty shopping bag.

Reaching in, he pulled out the baby shoes, resting them both in the palm of his hand. 

They still looked as brand new as the day he bought them. Pristine, black and tiny as ever.

That was when the dam broke as did the wall around his heart.

In the ten months following, he hadn’t shed a single tear, first believing he had no right to. Then later on ignoring his pain before his anger set in to turn into complete numbness.

But now, the tears came.

He sank down on the bed, clutching the shoes in his hands, holding them tight against his chest. Sobs wracked his body, the pain unraveling in him layer by layer.

He had never felt such deep pain. He now understood why people said the loss of a child was one of the hardest things, if not hardest thing they ever dealt with. 

He cried for the little boy or girl he wished every day that he’d been able to meet.

He’d cried for the baby that would never wear the shoes that he bought and held now.

He cried for the unfairness of the situation.

He cried for the shambles of his relationship, fearful that he might not be able to fix it.

He cried because he’d held on to his pain for far too long.

He cried because he was afraid he’d never feel whole again.

•

Eleven Months

His breakdown before Christmas hadn’t fixed everything, but it had made him feel a bit better.

He no longer held onto the initial searing pain that should’ve been released long ago and it was like a weight off his shoulders.

He still hurt, he still grieved, he still needed to talk about it, but at least he was headed on the right path toward healing.

Spencer had decided what he had to do before Christmas, but decided to wait until after the holidays to act on it.

Christmas had been low key, just the two of them staying at home and exchanging gifts. 

He got her some perfume, a novel she’d been wanting to read and a gift card to her favorite store.

She’d given him a Doctor Who figurine he’d been searching for forever, a beautiful edition of War and Peace he’d lusted over ages ago and a new watch.

It was amazing how even though they’d spent most of the year so far apart, they still knew each other well, as if nothing had happened.

It was still a bittersweet day though. He could imagine how different life would have looked if they’d had their little four month old child here with them to celebrate.

He saw the pain in her face, but said nothing.

He knew how she felt.

-

It was New Years Eve when Y/N found Spencer sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before the sun was even up.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” she sounded uncertain.

He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed.

“We need to stop doing this,” he said.

“Doing what?”

“This,” he motioned between the two of them, “Ignoring everything. Acting like it didn’t happen. We need to talk about the miscarriage.”

He didn’t miss her flinch.

“I can’t. You know that,” she said.

“You need to,” he stressed, “I need to, Y/N.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I can’t and I won’t.”

“Dammit, Y/N!” 

His palm slapped the table hard enough to rattle his coffee cup and make her jump.

It wasn’t often that he lost his temper, usually when he did, it was for a good reason. But when he was angry, he was angry.

“You’re not the only one who lost a baby!” he hollered, “Do you honestly think this hasn’t been hard for me too?! This last year has been shit for me as well! I almost lost my job because I made such an obvious mistake that I could’ve died as a result of my mind being in such a bad place! You’ve hardly spoken to me other than to fight with me for a majority of this year! How do you think that makes me feel?! I tried my best to help but you didn’t want it. I tried everything I could to fix you, but it just made things worse! I’ve been through hell too, Y/N, I hurt too! I wish every single day that we didn’t lose our baby. So I’m fucking sorry if I finally am tired of hurting and want to get better by simply talking about it!”

He was breathing hard by the time he’d finished his rant, his chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid breaths.

Y/N was frozen and staring at him. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, mad, stunned or what.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he apologized, in a more normal tone, “But I really think we need to talk about it. This has changed us, Y/N. Surely, you can see that.”

She was still silent.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“I...I didn’t realize. I mean I knew you were upset but I didn’t even know it was so bad, I…” she trailed off, looking like a lost puppy, before looking back at him, “I want to fix this. I do. But I don’t think I can talk about it.”

He sighed, all the fight completely drained from him. He was so, so tired. 

“Then I think I have to leave,” he stated matter of factly.

“Leave?!” she startled, “What do you mean? Not for good, right? Spencer, please, don’t.”

“I don’t know if it’s for good,” he said warily, “All I know is I just have to leave for a while.”

It was the hardest thing he had to do, but he knew he needed to. It was for the best in the long run. He needed time to mend and so did she.

He stood from the table, setting his empty mug in the sink.

“I’m going to be staying with Luke and Penelope for a while if you need me,” Spencer said.

He walked toward the door where his already packed bag sat. He noticed her eyes fall on it, taking in just how serious he was about this.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving a tearful Y/N still at their kitchen table.

It was time to heal.

After all, you can’t fix a broken relationship when you’re as broken as it.

•

Eleven Months

“Hi Spencer, it’s me. Y/N…” 

There was a pause in the voicemail message.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know voicemail isn’t exactly the place to be apologizing, but I had to say it first before I say everything else and I won’t stop apologizing anyway. But, um, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I wanted to talk to you. Well more like I need to talk to you. If you have time that is. I miss you.”

There was another, shorter pause.

“I love you.”

Spencer’s lips curled just the slightest, hearing the three words he hadn’t heard in so long. 

“Bye.”

The voicemail ended, but he held the phone to his ear for a little longer before he pulled it away and pocketed it.

It had been three weeks since he’d left. 

He tried not to be disheartened when several days had gone by without any contact from her, then a week, then two.

Penelope had assured him that she needed time to fix herself too, just like he had been working on.

He still had a long way to go, but he was making improvements.

He had profusely apologized to his friends for shutting them out for so long. He dove into his work with new determination, not just to distract him, but because it’s what he enjoyed doing. 

He even talked briefly to Luke and Penelope about the whole ordeal, even including the part of his breakdown before Christmas and the shoes.

Suddenly, the world started to look less bleak. 

Then today he was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Y/N. He had missed her too, so much.

He missed how they used to be, too.

He tried hard not to, but he found himself hoping against hope that maybe, possibly, things could eventually be okay.

-

Spencer paused before opening the door of their house. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had no idea what to expect.

He walked in, almost anticipating Y/N to be sitting there, waiting for him. It was odd how much of a stranger he felt in his own home. In fact, he had to stop himself from knocking just a moment ago.

Y/N was nowhere in sight. He walked into the living room, not sure if he should go looking for her, or what. He’d never felt at such a loss.

“Spence, hi.”

He turned at her voice, noticing her just approaching the doorway to the living room from the hallway. 

She looked good. The best she’d looked in months. She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair down and brushed, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey.”

His heart had fluttered at the sight of her. He loved her so much; that he couldn’t deny.

“You, uh, wanted to talk?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded, indicating for him to sit on the couch.

It was only then that he saw the tiny converse sitting on the coffee table. He couldn’t explain his reaction to seeing them, other than a sense of grief.

“Where did you find those?” he asked.

“Under the bed. I stumbled upon them when I was changing the sheets.”

He faintly remembered the last time he’d seen them, stashing them under the bed after his sobs had subsided. He wasn’t necessarily hiding them, he felt more like keeping them close by. He had forgotten about that.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at the shoes before looking up at Y/N, tears glistening in his eyes.

“That was your surprise for me and the baby, wasn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You remember that?”

He didn’t know if the choke of emotion he felt in his chest came from the fact she remembered that or that she’d actually mentioned the baby.

“I couldn’t forget it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Spencer? I’m ready to talk about it.”

He looked up from his lap where his gaze had fallen moments earlier, trying to conceal his emotions.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“You were right. I needed to do this a long time ago, but I’m ready now. I just don’t know where to start.”

She smiled sadly, fidgeting with the couch pillow that she’d rested in her lap, as if it were her life vest to survive this conversation. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, “I’ll be right here the entire time. Just start at the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her hand shifting into his, interlocking their fingers together before she began.

“I started cramping that day,” she said hesitantly, “Probably around the time you got up to get ready for work.”

“You never told me that,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded, “At first it was because I didn’t think it was serious, I mean some cramping is normal in a healthy pregnancy. I thought that’s what it was. Then after everything happened...well you know, everything got so complicated.”

Spencer nodded, staying quiet. He squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was listening.

“Anyway, I laid down after you left. I didn’t have work that day, so I thought maybe resting would help it. When I woke, they’d eased off enough to be just a mild nuisance. I mean, I’ve had period cramps that were worse.”

His heart broke listening to her recount what was the worst day of her life. He knew it had to be so tough for her to finally do this and he was so proud that she was finally getting it all out.

“The day passed like that. The cramps got worse by bedtime, so I thought I’d just use the heating pad for a little bit before going to sleep. I had started spotting then. Again, I wasn’t alarmed. That’s another symptom of early pregnancy, sometimes you spot a little. I went to sleep.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself to talk about the next part.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here,” Spencer whispered, his thumb running along her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I can’t remember what woke me up exactly,” Y/N continued, her voice beginning to wobble, “I’m not sure if it was the cramps or the sense of dread because somehow, I felt both. I noticed my legs and the bed sheets felt a bit wet and I turned on the light. I caught a glance at the clock around that time. It was 1:27 a.m. That’s when I saw the blood.”

Tears formed in his eyes. Tears already were falling from her eyes.

“I was so scared, Spencer,” she said in a scratchy whisper, “I think deep down I knew it was happening, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was only when the doctor at the hospital confirmed it that it finally sank in.”

His tears were falling now as well. He remembered that fateful trip to the hospital all too well. His world felt like it had turned upside down.

It was then he realized that his unhealthy grieving process had begun, right there in that hospital room.

“Then I had to have the D&C. I know I was anesthetized, but still just knowing that I had to have this foreign object being shoved up me to scrape out any remnants of this baby that I failed to keep alive.”

She was bawling now. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with her sobs. Spencer pulled her towards him out of habit, regardless that they hadn’t embraced like this for so long. It was just so normal of him to do it, that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

He held her close as she cried into his chest. Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears completely soaking it. He didn’t even care that it was one of his nicer work shirts, he just hugged her tighter, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” he murmured, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, kissing her head, “It was never your fault.”

She sat back, disconnecting their embrace and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

“I know that now. But it’s my fault for pushing you away. I isolated you, didn’t consider your feelings, wasn’t there for you. I’m the one who ruined our relationship.”

Even though she’d attempted to wipe her eyes, it had been a useless gesture. More tears fell again as she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault too,” he said, putting his hands on her face, thumbs wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t try hard enough. I tried to fix you when I couldn’t even fix myself. I’m just as much to blame for our problems and I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

She leaned her face into one of his hands.

“I talked to you. Please talk to me. I wanna know how you’re feeling. I care about how you’re feeling too, even though my actions haven’t conveyed that lately.”

He smiled a bit, dropping his hands from her face and beginning to fidget. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable in front of someone, especially Y/N.

“Spence?”

He looked up at her. He could see the understanding in her eyes. She understood the turmoil roiling in him. She was silently telling him that he could lay his heart out for her.

So that’s what he did.

“It felt like the entire world collapsed around me,” he mumbled.

 “I was so excited to be a dad. Obviously,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “I had the idea of buying the matching shoes for the baby. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I love them,” she smiled at him, “I love that you did that.”

“I thought for the first couple of months that I had no right to grieve. You were the one who actually experienced it, so I tried to be strong,” he sighed, resignedly.

“Spencer you-”

He shook his head, cutting her off.

“Please, just let me finish or I won’t be able to get this out.”

She nodded, understandingly. 

“That’s when I started blocking it out. I tried helping you, I buried myself in work just trying to forget. To avoid what I was feeling. I started having dreams during the summer.”

He saw the quizzical look on her face, not sure if she should ask aloud what he meant in fear that if she interrupted, he wouldn’t finish.

“I had these dreams where usually it was me and you with our baby. Sometimes it was a boy, sometimes it was a girl. It was always different scenarios, but like average activities, just with a child. You making breakfast while I fed our daughter, me taking our son to the park. It differed from dream to dream how old the child was, but it was all the same kinds of dreams.”

“Around that time anger sat in. After the failed support group visit I was more and more tempted to yell at you that I lost a baby too.”

Involuntarily, his lower lip began to tremble. He felt horrible admitting to that.

“I wish you had. I deserved to be yelled at. I deserved you being angry at me,” she winced.

“No, you didn’t. I feel bad for even admitting that I constantly wanted to yell at you. You were hurting too, Y/N. But it wasn’t just you that I was mad at. I was mad at the world. I was mad at the people who were lucky enough to be parents. It got harder and harder to deal with cases that involved kids or talk to people during cases that had kids. Some people I saw shouldn’t have had kids, they weren’t fit to be parents. I found myself wondering why they were given the gift of new little lives, yet we weren’t.”

He took a deep breath, feeling winded after his sudden ramble.

“I pushed away people too. I pushed you away because I stopped trying to help. I figured I wasn’t going to help anyway. I pushed away JJ, Luke, Garcia, the entire team. All they wanted to do was to help me and I didn’t want to be helped.”

She gave a small half grin, the corner of her mouth quirky slightly, not really a happy smile, more of a melancholy one. 

“I guess we had that in common.”

Spencer realized just how much grief they could’ve saved each other if they’d both had been willing to help themselves first. But the past was the past and he wanted things to be different from here on out.

“I found the shoes before Christmas. I had hidden them after stumbling upon them not long after the miscarriage. I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want to think about them. It was too painful. But I found them again and it’s like the grief just finally broke free of the wall I had built around it, in hopes it would go away. I think I cried for more than thirty minutes, just clutching them. After that, things felt a bit easier. Obviously everything wasn’t perfect, but I needed to finally grieve. I hadn’t cried once in all those months up until that day.”

It was her turn to hug him tightly. Spencer held on to her like she was his lifeline, which in a way, she was.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I will never be able to apologize enough,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why it happened, but it happened for a reason,” she said in a gentle tone, “But I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want us to be broken. I’ve done an awful job of showing it, but I love you more than words can describe, Spencer Reid. I don’t want to live life without you by my side.”

It was probably the hundredth time they’d both cried during this conversation, but Spencer supposed it was expected.

He pulled away, looking down at her. The sincerity rang true in her eyes.

He leaned down, his lips like a wisp of a feather as they brushed against hers. He kissed her again, more firmly this time, but still relatively gentle. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose as they seemed to run together.

When they parted, he gave a small laugh amazed at how much lighter he finally felt, at how long it’d been since they’d actually kissed, since they’d actually talked. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they would be okay.

They were both a sniffling mess with tear stained faces along with red rimmed eyes, but they were actually smiling.

“I wouldn’t want to experience life without you by my side either, Y/N,” Spencer finally said when he’d regained the composure to do so, “I love you so damn much.”

They talked for hours, well into the night. They had so much to talk about, so much to share with one another.

But the most comforting thought was the knowledge they both could finally begin to heal; as individuals and as one.

•

Twelve Months

It’s ironic how the one year anniversary of the miscarriage was probably the best day yet of their recovery.

The initial conversation Spencer and Y/N had wasn’t the last one. Many more followed. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t have a conversation about it or mention it in some sort of way.

The atmosphere was lighter, their moods brighter, their mental health and relationship in a much better place than it had been.

They often had extended conversations about what they thought their angel baby would’ve been like, who they would’ve looked like. This time it was with less heartache and more wonder.

Spencer had finally admitted something that had been weighing on his mind though he wasn’t sure if he should share it with her. He told her that even though it didn’t go the way they had expected it to, he was thankful and grateful for the time they had had with Peanut.

The miscarriage had tested them and their relationship in ways they couldn’t have ever expected. Somehow, they had made it out of that dark tunnel through to the other side. They’d gotten through it and it had made their relationship stronger.

Even though it had only been a short time they’d had with this baby, it was more than none at all. Y/N had agreed. They had grown as individuals and grown as a couple over the last twelve months.

Other conversations regarding their loss were talked about too. They still wanted kids, they still intended on having them, but they’d decided they weren’t going to actively try.

If it was meant to happen anytime soon, it would happen. If not, that was okay too. 

It had been a mutual decision that they wanted to wait while they worked to better themselves and their relationship. They would be parents one day, just not today.

Spencer couldn’t help compare how different things were now than they were a year ago. It seemed finally, they were at peace. 

Grief was a strange thing. Sometimes it brought people closer together, other times it pushed them apart. In some cases, it could do both.

Y/N had refused to put the converse away in a closet or a drawer until they were needed.

She once didn’t want to remember, but now she didn’t want to forget. Spencer couldn’t have agreed more.

Now, the baby shoes sat on the dresser in their bedroom on display. It was a reminder of what they lost, but of what was to come. It was a reminder of what they’d been through, but to also remind them not to dwell anymore.

There was no reason to hold on to the pain like they had done for so long. They would always remember, but they’d no longer let it consume them entirely.

There, the baby shoes now sat, in hopes to one day be filled with tiny baby feet.

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[foxofthedesert]

So I just finished my 3rd watch thru of Merlin, and yet again am brokenhearted. Not only by Arthur's death and Merlin's grief, but by Morgana's tragic descent into madness. Though I loathed the choice, I always understood why the writers went the direction they did with Morgana. What I did not understand was the way they handled her relationship with Gwen. It just never made any sense to me that Morgana could be so cruel to someone she clearly loved very deeply - even if only in the platonic sense. To me, it seemed like the Morgana that existed at the end of season 2 was replaced by a totally different, inexplicably cruel and insufferably smirky one by the start of season 3.

Still, prophecies need fulfilled and such, and after all it is a fantasy series based on a complicated mythology where Morgana sometimes is portrayed as evil. I just wish it was handled better.

Be that as it may, as a writer I tend to gravitate toward the untold stories within canon. That being the case, Gwen and Morgana's relationship is a natural attraction. I adore their chemistry, which makes them so easy to pair up. Since I am also not necessarily beholden to canon, that means I can imagine whatever the hell I want for them. Such an AU where their potential is realized before Morgause enters the picture to warp Morgana into her father's daughter.

This little piece is part of that. I may or may not add more entries in the future.

As a side note, this was initially supposed to be much shorter, but my fingers wouldn't stop typing words. Silly digits.

Ficlet below the line!

Morgana awoke giggling in an entirely unrefined manner. Her uncharacteristic bubbly mirth, she discovered, was due to a gentle tickling sensation all across her face. Once the wispy haze of sleep was blinked out of her blurry eyes, a familiar shape resolved into an entirely too handsome face wearing such a love-sick expression that her chest reflexively suffused with an affectionate warmth that quickly seeped into her very bones.

“What time is it?” she asked to the person hovering above her, voice still gravelly and slightly slurred from having been roused out of such a deep, blessedly dreamless repose. The pleasant tickling sensation began anew immediately after her half-slurred inquiry, and when she lifted her gaze she was greeted by rich brown eyes she would swear on her life she could live and die in.

“Just after dawn.” The utterly enchanting creature paying her such lovely attention continued to delicately and reverently brush calloused fingertips across the expanse of her jaw. “Sorry I woke you. I meant to let you sleep in a bit longer, I just really couldn’t help myself.”

A pause allowed a full, dusky lip to be pulled rather invitingly between pearly white teeth before her beloved added, “It seems I never can where you are concerned.”

Morgana smiled. A genuine smile, too. Nothing like the false ones she graced her guardian with, full of barely suppressed loathing and rage. Lately she had been consumed by disgust for the man who so many times proclaimed to cherish her, a man who would see her burnt at the stake if he knew who she truly was. Uther Pendragon claimed to be a fair and just king, yet he waged unlawful wars against territories that dared stand up against his brutish rule and relentlessly persecuted innocents whose only crime was to be born different. People like her. People with magic.

Coming to terms with her gifts had cost Morgana both countless nights spent in wakeful torment over horrific visions that plagued her dreams and untold days spent wrestling with throat-clogging anxiety over the possibility of discovery. There were many occasions during that frightening period in which she felt as though tottering precariously over a dark, abyssal chasm at the bottom of which lie only inescapable madness. Every second spent at court was an exhausting exercise in choking down a nauseating terror of the tyrant who held the power of life and death over her and would surely decide upon the latter should he learn the truth about her magic. Meals were a unique form of torture due to the perpetual knot residing in her stomach and every event she would normally revel in was transformed into a dreaded affair during which she could scarcely breathe for the crushing weight resting upon her chest.

Frankly, if it hadn’t been for Guinevere and Merlin she is sure she would have already plummeted headlong into those foreboding depths, right into the waiting arms of a hatred no human heart could withstand without incurring irreparable damage.

If Merlin hadn’t told her the truth about his magic as he lead her to Aglain’s druid camp, the pervasive sense of isolation and desperation worming insidiously through her mind would have inevitably forced her into drastic choices. Even before her magic manifested she had silently nursed treasonous thoughts toward Camelot’s cruel monarch. What might she have done if the walls closed in so tightly on her she felt there was no avenue of escape outside of acting upon those unsavory impulses? It hardly bears thinking about for risk of inviting such evil desires back in to her heart when of all her attributes, it is her heart which makes her most special – or at least that is what Guinevere insists to be the case.

Thankfully, finding a steadfast friend and ally in Merlin had done much to ameliorate the suffocating feeling of helplessness she felt as a member of the court harboring so deadly a secret. With much diligence and patience he was teaching her to control her powers, to harness them for good, and to have faith that better days were ahead for their kind. It was also mostly due to the Merlin’s deceptive wisdom and boundless optimism – and to be fair what reasonable person could resist that impish, dimpled smile? – that she began to view Arthur through a fresh lens.

If she bothered to look deeply, as Merlin insisted, to ignore the chauvinistic bravado and infuriating superiority complex, it was not difficult to recognize Arthur’s innate nobility and compassion that existed despite his monstrous father. And seeing as Merlin was as stubborn as he was convincing, it did not take long for Morgana to accept with a cautiously hopeful heart that with the aid of loyal friends, Arthur had it in him to become to the greatest sovereign Camelot had ever seen, a king who might actually prove himself worthy of the people both common and magical to whom he would be sworn to serve. Of course, she and Arthur still had their mundane squabbles and butted heads frequently over political and legal matters, but in the months since Merlin began her training, Morgana had acquired a new appreciation for the young man who was to her as good as a sibling.

As much as Merlin had done for her, however, it paled in comparison to Gwen’s contributions to her health and happiness.

For as long as Morgana had known Gwen she had held the blacksmith’s daughter in esteem far higher than any Lady should their maidservant. What started out as mutual respect born from shared grief over the loss of a parent soon flowered into genuine friendship. For many years they were the best of friends, each providing for the other a refuge from the storms of life and a confidante more reliable and wise and loyal than could be hired with all of Midas’ gold.

By the time Morgana entered womanhood, her fondness for Gwen had only swelled to become boundless as it was profound. In her eyes, Gwen was the most wonderful person in all the world; none could hope to be her equal in breathtaking beauty, charitable kindness, seemingly endless stores of patience, altogether praiseworthy meekness, a silent strength surpassing steel, or in nearly saintly levels of graciousness. Gwen was the unfailing light to Morgana’s rapidly encroaching darkness, the quickening sun to her deathly pale moon, the Aurora to her Luna. She neither trusted any more deeply as she did Gwen, nor did she desire the company of another so keenly. As a result, they were rarely parted until retiring for bed, and then only by necessity of station. So inextricably attached were they Gwen’s friends often jested that she must have accidentally stitched herself to her lady’s garments at the hip. The noblewomen were not nearly so kind. Some of the more prominent Ladies in the castle questioned the innocence of their arrangement, going so far as to exchange idle speculation which painted them as clandestine devotees of Sappho.

If Morgana could be bothered to care about the rumors, she would have confronted the useless busybodies long ago. But quite frankly, their opinions on her relationship with Gwen mattered for naught seeing as Arthur dismissed them as absurd upon reaching his ears and, beyond even that, Morgana would rather die than provide the snide gossipers ammunition that might serve as tacit confirmation that their unwelcome conjecture was not without merit – which was in fact the case.

All the same, though, she took great pains to prevent them from reaching the ears of the king. Uther already disapproved of their unusual bond and reminded her of such every time she treated Gwen with an ounce of basic human dignity while in his presence. Rather than censure the prejudice as she might have no long ago, Morgana now bore the chastisement with pride. Were it required, she would gladly wear forty stripes upon her skin if that be the price of Gwen’s love. The haughty bigotry of her guardian could never dissuade her from the path her heart had chosen to travel. Gwen was far too precious to ever surrender without a fight, to death if she must.

For what felt like ages, Morgana had believed her feelings would never be reciprocated. And that was perfectly acceptable to her, so long as Gwen remained an integral part of her life. The constant yearning that caused her chest to ache, sometimes almost painfully, was something she could endure so long as Gwen was happy.

That perspective radically transformed the night Gwen’s father died.

The midnight bells sounded in the citadel as Morgana slipped out into the upper town. Her intentions were pure at the time. She had only meant to visit her friend and offer what support she could, no matter the reckless impropriety of her visiting the her maidservant’s home so late at night. Instead, one glimpse of Gwen’s devastation over the pointless tragedy reignited her rage. All too quickly it boiled over, allowing those old, bitter feelings to spill out as impetuous threats of vengeance, and not only on Gwen’s behalf but for all those wronged by the merciless hand of Uther Pendragon. For what felt like hours she railed, heedless of the effect her malicious speech was having on the distraught girl she was supposed to be comforting.

It was only when Gwen – sweet Gwen, kind and thoughtful and selfless to a fault – had been pushed to her limits that Morgana’s perilous vitriol was interrupted.

Casting aside station, Gwen grasped her by the face and made her swear to never utter such dangerous words again.

“My brother has already abandoned me and now both my parents are dead,” Gwen had said, lips quivering and cheeks stained by tears. “I can’t lose you, too. I can’t. I won’t survive it.”

“Of course you would, Gwen. You’re the strongest person I know,” Morgana had replied, grasping reflexively at lean wrists, Gwen’s hands having migrated to the back of Morgana’s neck, thumbs cupped round the front of her ears. It was the first time she had been embraced so intimately, and if it weren’t for her anger she most certainly would have shivered with excitement at the surprisingly welcome contact.

“I’m not,” Gwen had half-sobbed, voice hoarse from hours surrendered to grief. “I’m only standing at all right now because the person I love most in all the world is here with me.”

Morgana hadn’t understood the nature of that declaration at first. Not until Gwen tucked her lip between her teeth, her nostrils flared with what could not be misinterpreted as anything but raw want, and her eyes went impossibly dark. A sharp gasp of realization was all Morgana could manage as a response, so stunned was she that her most secretive and treasured wish was being fulfilled.

But when Gwen nodded, chest heaving with emotion, despair and fear warring with adoration in her eyes, Morgana could no longer contain herself. Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fused together, revealing the explanation as to why a simple smile from Gwen was able to chase away the storm clouds gathering above her head, or why Gwen’s chiming laughter kicked up butterflies in her stomach and a captivating warmth in her chest, or why even the most airy of touches from Gwen left a wake of goose-flesh in her skin. It wasn’t just love. It was destiny.

In retrospect, Morgana probably should have been as if not more terrified of crossing that final, socially forbidden line between mistress and servant, friend and lover, than she was of being magical. The thing of it was, the only relevant factors in that moment was Gwen willingly offering of herself more than she probably should and Morgana being selfish enough to accept.

They made love that night beneath Gwen’s threadbare sheets, and it was glorious, just as Morgana had imagined it would be.

All of their sorrows and anxieties and animosities drifted away like dandelion seeds upon a crisp summer breeze. Cliches regarding such unions suddenly made sense. Somewhere along the journey that began by laving the stiffened peak of a pert breast then languidly progressed into nestling her face into the delicate, aromatic flower situated between smooth bronze legs, she lost all sense of self. It was as if with each bruising kiss, playful nibble, and greedy draw with open mouth, she and Gwen were merging into one being. Gwen’s throaty noises and keening pleas reverberated through her every muscle fiber, down even into the very marrow of her bones. Gwen’s intoxicating flavor permeated her senses until it was all she could taste or smell. And Gwen’s gratification became hers as her hand slipped beneath her ridiculously extravagant undergarments to relieve the desperate pressure upon a mound so slick with arousal that the sound of her feverish rubbing was positively obscene.

Mere heartbeats after Gwen went taut with a silent scream, stars exploded behind Morgana’s eyes as the most exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain engulfed her mind and set her nether regions aflame. Spent and unable to control her trembling limbs, she collapsed across Gwen’s heaving chest. Strong arms immediately wrapped around underneath her arms to pull her in tight, and as she buried her nose in the damp curls at Gwen’s neck, all she could do was weep, utterly overcome by an unspeakable joy she understood without needing to ask was fully mutual. They fell asleep like that, Morgana stretched across Gwen, encased in an embrace that felt like a subconscious announcement of a claim upon her, heart and soul and body, something she not only welcomed but reveled in.

Wonderful thoughts about publicly belonging to Gwen lulled Morgana into a peaceful sleep that went markedly undisturbed.

In the pale light of morning she was still so drunken upon pure, heady, all consuming bliss to realize she would be missed if she did make an appearance in the castle. Had Gwen not pointed that out, she would have been more than glad to spend the entire day wrapped around her new lover, discovering every last spot that made Gwen’s toes curl ‘til the girl was too exhausted to move the tiniest muscle.

Alas, the constraints of reality marshaled both of them to action, and so once they had dressed, they sneaked carefully into the castle by auxiliary corridors during the changing of the guard. By only the slimmest of margins, they slipped into her chambers just as the fresh patrol rounded the corner in their direction. Once inside, the thrill of the close call and euphoria over their consummated love invigorated Morgana into a passion she could not ignore. Overcome by a need – more like an almost maddening hunger really – to touch, smell, and taste every delicious inch of the skin she had feasted upon last night, she unceremoniously dragged a breathless, ruddy cheeked Gwen straight over to her bed.

After that thorough christening, they lingered together in a tangle of limbs, both sated and happy. At least until the sound of Camelot’s awakening resounded through the chambers from the courtyard below and with it the first doubts crept in. Morgana could recall the subsequent conversation as though it had just happened.

***************

“I should see to my duties directly,” Gwen had said, immediately rustling to exit the bed upon hearing Arthur’s booming voice rattle down the hallway, clearly a response to the latest in an endless string of mistakes by his loyal yet tragically clumsy manservant.

Morgana hadn’t wanted to turn loose quite yet, so she tightened hold around Gwen’s waist, halting the undesired escape.

“They can wait,” she replied between leisurely kisses trailed up a shapely arm. “The laundry isn’t going anywhere, nor is the evening gown that needs mending. Stay with me a while longer.” She paused to nuzzle into Gwen’s shoulder. “Stay with me forever.”

Rather than struggle, Gwen melted the embrace. “You know that is all I wish for. I love you, Morgana. More than anything. But…”

“But what?”

“What if someone catches us?”

Morgana scoffed, having missed the long term nature of the question in addition to the concern pouring off of Gwen in waves she should not have missed. It was not her finest moment. She hadn’t meant to be insensitive, though. The idea had just seemed so preposterous at the time because she had thought Gwen was only speaking about the present.

“Who would be so bold as to enter my chambers without permission?” she had said. “Not even Uther at his most disrespectful would dare venture such a trespass. We are entirely safe here. No need to worry your pretty head.”

Gwen shifted in Morgana’s arms then so that they were face to face. “I do, though. Worry that is. And I have to ask: why aren’t you?”

“Why should I be? For that matter why should you be?” Morgana replied. And then she met Gwen’s eyes. Large, and impossibly dark, and unmistakably upset.

All of the sudden it was impossible for Morgana to ignore how frightened Gwen really was. In response, her stomach twisted almost painfully and her heart fell as the happy bubble she had been floating in abruptly burst.

What in all the world, she wondered in a moment of regrettable obliviousness, had Gwen afraid of them being caught? Her brow furrowed as deeply as it ever had as she mulled around potential causes.

Certainly they were going to have to be careful in the future to avoid exposure, she reckoned, but Gwen was as fully cognizant that there were more perilous secrets both were currently keeping. Morgana’s ability to pull the wool over Uther’s eyes was well established, and no one else besides the two of them had unfettered access to her chambers. Besides all that, Morgana knew every nook and cranny of the citadel and was able to slip out and into the upper town undetected at will, of which Gwen was also very well aware. So there had to be more to it. But what?

Only one other possibility occurred to her, and it was the one she least wanted to entertain. And yet...

“Unless you regret what has transpired between us?” she asked at length, unable to disguise her own fear, which manifested through a faint trembling in her voice. “No!” Shaking her head fervently, Gwen grasped Morgana’s face much as she did the night before. “Not even for a second. I’ve lost so much, and I have much to regret, but not this. This is the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…”

Again Gwen trailed off, her hands retreating to clasp together against her mouth. And although Morgana’s anxiety had quieted with Gwen’s reassurance, there was clearly something still bothering her.

“Just what?” Morgana prompted, then reached out to stroke Gwen’s hair. “I hate seeing you so twisted up. Tell me. Please.”

A single, contrite nibble of a kiss-stung lip later, Gwen averted her eyes and gave her answer, “Don’t you wonder, even just for a second in the back of your mind, if what we did was wrong?”

Morgana very nearly sighed in relief. This was a problem she could easily remedy, as it was a one she had wrestled with for years only for Merlin’s simple yet profound worldview to unexpectedly resolve.

During the incident where Gwen was accused of using sorcery to heal her father, he had stumbled upon Morgana beside herself after a visit to Gwen’s cell. In her anxiety and grief she had confessed to having feelings for her handmaiden that although unseemly nonetheless had taken hold of her. Where she had expected disgust, she was instead given only understanding and compassion. In that endearingly provincial way of his, Merlin ensured her that love – if true and pure and unselfish, which he insisted hers for Gwen surely was – could never be wrong.

Morgana had felt something turn loose inside her at Merlin’s easy acceptance, as if her heart had been tied into a knot being slowly and perpetually tightened. Breathing became a relief once again. And as she learned to accept herself the way Merlin did, she began to hope that perhaps one day in the future a door would open for her to act upon her feelings without destroying what she and Gwen already shared. She could not have anticipated Tom’s death being the impetus for her to do so. Yet as awful as his tragic death was, it birthed something so infinitely precious that Morgana would never cease being grateful. And if only for the memory of that kind, thoughtful, patient man, she would never stop fighting for the love she shared with her beloved Guinevere.

“Gwen,” she had said, unsuccessfully vying for her conflicted love’s attention. Twice more she called Gwen’s name, and after receiving no response pushed up slightly on her elbow. “Look at me, Guinevere.” When large, uncertain eyes, brimming with tears, met hers, she leaned over so that she could press her forehead against Gwen’s. “We have done nothing wrong. Do you hear me? If you trust me, if you love me as you assert to, believe me when I say this. Something so wonderful and beautiful and perfect could never be anything less than rightly divine.”

***************

That phrase that swiftly became Morgana’s favorite answer to Gwen’s occasional concerns. The world at large, and most definitely those housed within the vaunted halls of Camelot’s citadel, would most certainly view their relationship as wicked and immoral and perverse. If that was indeed the case, Morgana did not believe she ever wanted to be either innocent or righteous. Their love was wonderful, and beautiful, and perfectly divine; an immutable fact which Morgana was determined to never allow either of them to forget.

No doubt lurked within Gwen’s eyes this morning, however, only unadulterated affection. And that made Morgana exceedingly joyful indeed.

“I understand what you mean,” Morgana at last said after escaping that precious memory. She sighed contentedly and shuttered her eyelids as yet another reverent brush of fingers smoothed along the crest of her chin. And while the diligent attention felt incredible, she grew increasingly curious why Gwen’s focus appeared to have narrowly fixated on that one specific region of her face.

“What’s the matter?” Gwen said after a bit of easy silence.

“What makes you think something’s the matter?” Morgana replied, still basking in the glow of Gwen’s magical touch.

“You have that telltale crease between your brow which means something is bothering you.”

This time Morgana opened her eyes. “I’m not bothered, merely at a loss as to why you suddenly find my chin so hypnotizing.”

Gwen sucked at her lip momentarily as if weighing whether to answer before a crooked smile bloomed across her handsome features.

“Well, not just your chin, but if you must know it’s all these little hairs…” And then she stroked Morgana’s chin again, this time allowing her fingers to feather over said hairs all the way down her jawline.

“Are you saying my face is hairy, Gwen?” Morgana asked, frowning as a thread of hurt pulled taut.

As should be obvious, she didn’t appreciate it pointed out that her alabaster skin failed to conceal what otherwise would have been a nearly invisible coat of fine hairs that covered all humans male and female alike. Arthur teased her about it relentlessly when she was a blossoming teenager, and even now some of the noble ladies who envied her would snidely comment upon how it clearly indicated that she was a witch destined for a life of barren unhappiness.

Up til now, Gwen had made no mention of that peculiar feature and Morgana would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t wounded that it would be brought up only now that they were in an intimate situation.

“No!” Gwen’s eyes went wide as the full moon. “No, not at all! I mean...well, yes, it sort of is.” A huffed breath of remorse followed Morgana’s gasp of offense. “Not that it’s a bad thing! I swear I meant no insult. I have some too, after all. It’s just less visible because of my skin tone probably. And don’t worry! It’s nothing like Lady Johanna’s fledgling beard. Not even close. On the contrary, they’re so tiny and delicate and wispy and soft, and I really am utterly obsessed with them because they are part of you and you are perfect, so they are also perfect by extension, and I just can’t get over how adorable they are, and I am currently babbling like a lunatic with zero manners. I am so sorry, milady.”

At the end of that adorable ramble, Gwen’s shoulders hunched in as her cheeks darkened and she yet again sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Any insult Morgana felt evaporated as quickly as it formed. How could she be upset with such an enchanting creature?

Reaching across Gwen’s waist, she pulled her abashed lover down until they were flush, skin to skin from shoulders to hips.

“Oh, Gwen, there is nothing to be sorry for,” she said, legs instinctively parting as Gwen’s familiar weight settled against her. “My reaction is habit, I’m afraid, due to Arthur’s derisive mocking. It’s actually quite nice to hear a compliment for a change.”

“Are you sure you’re not cross with me? I’d understand if you were…”

No one with a functioning soul could be cross with those doe eyes staring at them, Morgana decided. She danced her fingers with lighthearted mirth across Gwen’s cheeks and over the ridge of her nose.

“Nonsense, sweetling. It’s no different than me admiring your freckles.”

Gwen’s features relaxed into a flattered smile. “You like my freckles?”

“Like them? I love them! How could I not? It’s like you said, they are a part of you, and you are perfect, therefore they are perfect by extension.”

In response, Gwen gave her an appreciative little smile before arresting her hand to place a kiss upon the inside of her wrist.

“So you won’t mind to be awakened like that again should I fail to curb my weird fascination?”

“Only if you won’t should I wake you by mapping the stars written across your cheeks,” Morgana said, then returned Gwen’s tactile affection with some of her own by again acting out her words with her own fingers. She was pleased when Gwen leaned in to the touch.

“I promise I won’t. I think I’d quite fancy that, actually.”

“Then I promise, too. And if you’re a good girl today, perhaps I will indulge your fancy tomorrow morning.”

“Well, then, I’d better get to work, hadn’t I?”

Eyes flashing with eager anticipation, Gwen threw the covers aside and made to get out of bed – a development Morgana was not prepared to authorize. Not only was she of a mind to lounge abed and cuddle away another hour or two, all of Camelot was blanketed in snow and she was loathe to be deprived of Gwen’s heavenly body...heat.

“Now, now,” Morgana tugged at Gwen, almost desperate with a need to curl right back into Gwen’s warmth and never move again while hoping she sounded at least somewhat the dignified noblewoman she was supposed to be. “Don’t be so hasty. Have you forgotten yourself and your duties to your lady? I haven’t yet had my good morning kiss.”

Gwen tumbled back into bed giggling merrily. “For shame! I have failed my lady most unforgivably. I shall rectify the trespass immediately.”

“See that you do, Guinevere, and promptly,” Morgana said, her eyes twinkling as her own merriment curved her lips into a smile. “As you know, your lady does not appreciate being made to wait.”

After a deliberately silly half-curtsy, Gwen draped herself across Morgana’s body, and once settled whispered her reply against Morgana’s already tingling lips.

“My lady’s wish is my command.”

The brief peck that followed was not enough for Morgana. Fingers winding into dark curls, she pulled Gwen into a much more passionate kiss, which lead to another, and another, until the embrace quickly evolved into tangling tongues and undulating hips. Soon enough, Gwen’s head was disappearing beneath the sheets and Morgana was having to recall how to breathe due to the magnificently excruciating pleasure coursing through her loins.

And that was how she came to be late for her first appointment of the morning, where she was relentlessly lectured about the importance of punctuality over manchet, eggs, sausage, and apples sprinkled with cinnamon. It was worth it, though. Her giddy grin throughout breakfast only made Arthur more bewildered and Uther more angry.

[drabblily]

the end - bokuto x reader

pairing: bokuto koutarou x reader

genre: angst

warnings: growing apart, hearbreak, mention of death 😈

word count: 1637

synopsis: bokuto grows apart from you no matter how hard he tries not to. is this the end of your relationship with him?

author’s note: i feel like i didn't do him justice despite being in love with him :’) also if you see any mistakes in this, WHOOPS because i didn’t really do in-depth checking fjsabahfb

you think you started noticing the signs when he cancelled on you for the first time. your extremely clingy boyfriend who somehow always made time for you told you he “was busy.” at first, you understood. he was a busy person in general, with volleyball and such, so of course you couldn't be mad at him for it, he had his life and you had yours.

but then you started noticing the little things, how his golden eyes zoned out when you were talking, how he seemed moody every time he came to see you, how he didn’t share your excitement whenever you were talking about the things that made you happy that day. 

it was odd, how everything about him slowly changed around you. when he usually was the happiest around you, it started to feel like a burden to see or be with you. and you knew it wasn’t because he’d been having a rough day because whenever you came to visit him at his practices, you watched as his eyes were bright and how he laughed oh so loudly. yet, when he turned and caught sight of you, you saw how his wide grin faltered and his laughs came to a stop. you were pretty sure you saw him sigh at one point.

you knew what was happening to your relationship with the owl-like male, you both knew. it wasn’t something either of you could deny, it was as clear as day. he was growing apart from you, getting tired of you and this relationship. but, neither of you addressed this, almost as if you two were ignoring the topic because neither of you wanted to admit that your 2 year relationship would not be making it to it’s 3rd. 

the last straw was when you and bokuto decided to go out with your small friend group, deciding to go separately and meet up there because he wanted to hang out with kuroo, kenma, and akaashi before the night started. you agreed, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and went back to doing your makeup for later. he threw you a small goodbye and you heard the door to your apartment close. your thoughts went back to the kiss you shared with him 10 seconds ago, well, not really shared to be honest. your hand touched your mouth, recognizing how he didn't kiss you back and left so quickly. 

feeling a familiar fluid well up in your eyes, you dabbed at them with a small tissue, not wanting to ruin your hard work with some silly tears. it was nothing to be concerned about, you told yourself, you’d talk about it later with him in private and hopefully figure out a solution that would help repair your broken relationship.

forty-five or so minutes passed by and you were finished, already in your small car and driving to the restaurant you’d be hanging out at. you had gotten a text from your girlfriends that they were about to arrive there soon, which by soon they probably meant 30 minutes soon. you smiled at the small thought of your friends as you pulled into the parking lot near the joint. by now, you thought, bokuto and his best friends would be done with whatever they were doing and should be expecting for the rest of the group to arrive soon, including yourself. 

exiting your vehicle, you locked it and began to make your way to the entrance, looking both ways before crossing the road to make your way to the eatery. when you opened the door to the building, you felt a rush of cool air brush against your face, feeling yourself become calm at the temperature (which was weird that you were nervous in the first place, you never have been so worked up over a simple hang-out.)

flexing your clammy hands, you made your way throughout the building to the table you and your friends usually sat at--which was a booth right around the corner. you don't really know why sitting here had become a tradition but it did, and it was perfect to you. however, right before you could turn that same corner, you heard your boyfriend’s loud laughter come to a stop and his voice speak your name. 

“y/n? she’s…” you could hear bokuto sigh tiredly, “doing fine, i guess.”

“what do you mean you guess? aren’t you her boyfriend?” akaashi asked curiously, noticing how his close friend’s mood lowered at the mention of your name.

“no, no, i mean she’s doing great! and about the boyfriend thing...i don't know anymore. i love her, man, at least i think i do? but lately it just feels like a chore seeing her, you know? i just feel like i want to take a break with her though, or hell, maybe even break up with her? i dont know...it’s not fair to her for me to keep cancelling without any explanation. like she kissed me before i left her house and i couldn’t even return it! er--well more like i didn’t want to return it?”

“shit bro, that took a turn i didn’t expect, but for sure with taking a break at least. even we could tell how you suddenly went all gloomy and shit when we brought her up.” you heard a vibration against the table, probably a text, “oh looks like the girls are about to come in. remember what we talked about, man. can’t have my favorite bro this sad--no offense kenma, you know you’re my bestie~” kuroo teased, followed by his iconic cackle and a groan coming out from the faux blonde’s mouth.

“yeah yeah! just, make sure not to tell y/n about this, okay? i’m not ready for that conversation yet…anyways!” his hands slammed on the table, “i’m gonna use the restroom! i gotta peeeeee” 

normally you would’ve laughed at how he unnecessarily dragged out words, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything. not talk, not laugh, not even move when bokuto bumped into you when he turned the corner. 

“hey hey hey!! baby? you’re here already? hey, why are you crying, birdie?” bokuto gulped nervously, worried that you had heard everything he said, moving your hair out of your face to look at you more clearly.

as if finally processing everything, you flinched away from him, frantically wiping away at your tears pathetically, “d-don’t call me that kou, what...what do you mean by what yo-you said? you don’t love me? y-you don't want to kiss me anymore? what does that mean?” you stammered out, feeling a sob rack through your body. 

“birdie…”

“stop! don’t call me that if you don’t mean it...please…” you begged, your hands shaking and your bottom lip quivering, attempting to bite on it to stop it. 

bokuto’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling a lump in his throat and occasional tears falling down his cheeks. he always hated seeing you cry, to see you so sad, and yet here he was being the cause of your distress. 

“why couldn’t you talk to me about this? why did you have to distance yourself more and more instead of confronting me? was this because of me? please tell me so i can fix myself...because i don't want to lose you, bo…” your eyes searched his face desperately for answers, for anything. 

bokuto took a step towards you, uncaring of the attention you two had gotten yourselves, “no! it’s not because of you, i swear...it’s not you, it's me.”

a sharp laugh came out of your mouth, amused at the cliche that you thought only existed in those movies you watched, “don’t say that. you know how much i hate that…”

“bir--y/n...i love you…”

you inhaled, pursing your lips together and looking deep into those yellow eyes of his, “you love me...but you're not in love with me, is what you meant, right?”

bokuto opened his mouth to speak, to deny and say that wasn’t true, yet no words came out. for some reason, he couldn’t lie to you like that, because it was true, what you said. he tried so hard to make himself fall back in love, but all his efforts were for nothing. that spark he felt two years ago was no longer there, no matter what he did. 

“so it-it’s true?” you questioned, wanting him so badly to say you were acting crazy and kiss you, “you...you’re not in love with me anymore? is this the end of us?”

he watched your figure back up more, nodding your head with a pained expression gracing your pretty features, hearing a small whimper leave your lips, “you know, for a man who loves to talk you sure are quiet...so i’m gonna take your silence as a yes. i should probably hate you right now...i want to hate you for this. but even now i can't help but love you. isn’t that sad…?”

before he could reply, you spared him one last glance with tear stained cheeks and a broken heart, shaking your head lightly in disappointment and turning away. you didn’t hear him come after you. you didn’t hear him call out for you either. you did feel the familiar cool air at the entrance, your friends coming in at that exact same moment, smiles immediately dropping at the sight of you. you felt guilty, pushing past them with no explanation and out into the street to make your way to your car. 

it's funny how the crying blurred your eyes so much that you forgot to look both ways before you crossed the road, something you were taught to do at a young age. but in the end, all you could hear was a loud beep and then blackness flooded your vision.

taglist: @igenll

[hanmajoerin]

So my original plan was to write some stupid text post about Gramps grumbling about that one time InuYasha fucked up his bonsai trees and it became ✨so much more✨. This is now my first little Hanyo no Yashahime ditty!

I wanted to hold off on writing for HnY until the show started airing and we could get a better understanding of exactly what’s going on but 🤷🏼‍♀️. I did some adlibbing on Moroha’s motivation and fears, her childhood “alone,” and the OG crew being alive somewhere (🤞🏻) but hopefully you can run with this and enjoy it while we wait for October 3rd to finally come around.

This fic is titled “From Now On” and it’s a little sloppy by my own standards so I’m not sure if I would like to post it on AO3 or FF right now but it is still pretty solid and I wanted to share it with all of you!

“I...” It’s not like Moroha thought she had to practice this speech. She’d never spent a day of her life preparing for anything like this, but her surroundings were swarming with unfathomable gadgets–smells and sounds–and there were three pairs of eyes tracking her every breath. She felt cornered, like prey before the slaughter. “I... I don’t remember my parents very much,” she confessed. The sentence was one she’d uttered countless times in the past. It came with having no family but needing teachers and money. But now, Moroha had a family–three strangers who knew her parents better than she ever did–and having to admit it left her palms sweaty.

Brown eyes stayed low, finding comfort in the familiarity of red gloves until the sound of something breaking had her whipping her head upwards. The woman, her grandmother, was gasping at the confession. She chose to clutch at her chest instead of hold steady to the tray of tea she’d been bringing to the table. “Wha..?”

It was her great-grandfather who managed to bark out an entire sentence. “How on earth can you say such a thing!?”

Still, Moroha had trouble shifting her focus. She couldn’t continue, too preoccupied by watching her grandmother slowly bend down to gather the shards of glass. Hands. Her grandmother’s hands looked delicate, as if they shouldn’t be placing the broken glass back onto the serving tray. Moroha had been there before, so many times. She wondered for a moment when she'd finally picked up her last pieces. She couldn’t remember.

“That means ‘Sis is...” her uncle trailed, combing his fingers through his thick, black fringe. “And what about InuYasha? The guy’s an unstoppable force!”

Moroha swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Her grandmother stood up, walking away from the table to grab a few towels. “So your mom...”

Moroha nodded solemnly. “The night Towa went missing, there was a big fire caused by a demon. My old man left me this,” Moroha briefly motioned to her crimson cape. It had lost its magic years ago, but the sensation of her dad draping it over her head–the way he squeezed her shoulders before walking out of Kaede’s hut with her mom–that was a magic all its own. She could still see his two amber eyes gleaming; in her memories, they were always brighter than the flames. “My mom told me to stay in the village with the other kids but they were gone for a really long time. Everyone was worried and Towa, Setsuna, and I decided to go looking in the forest. That’s when we lost Towa and... and that was the last time I saw my parents.”

The air yielded to a pregnant pause. Moroha saw how words were hiding carefully behind closed lips. She could only guess that everyone wanted to speak but their sentences were paralyzed from the news. It was a lot to take in, after all. That was something she’d finished experiencing already. Clearing her throat, the quarter-demon chose to keep talking instead. “After it was over, we all searched for them. Even after the village stopped, I kept going. I didn’t think I’d ever return.” Return to Kaede’s village, see Setsuna, find Towa, be in the future, see her mom’s old world, be with the family she didn’t know she had.

Her great-grandfather was the one to break the silence again. He’d thumped his fist onto the table, two teeth peering out, strengthening a disgruntled scowl. “It’s all that demon’s fault! He was always so reckless. I mean, how many things did he break around the shrine? It’s no surprise that—”

“Father!”

Uncle Sota had risen from his chair, choosing to slap his palm against the table instead of copy the motions of his grandfather. Moroha clutched onto her robe of the fire-rat. Had Towa explained anything to them? Did they know that her parents were still...?

“Don’t you remember when the well disappeared? Without InuYasha, Sis never would have made it back. Whatever happened, I’m positive InuYasha protected her.” Hearing an uncle talk up her old man was a totally new experience.

“Besides, how can you say such a thing when his daughter is here?” Her grandmother asked, walking over and placing a supportive hand on Moroha’s shoulder. Her touch had the quarter-demon’s back straightening like a rod. “This is my granddaughter—your great-granddaughter.”

Moroha wasn’t one to gaze up while her chin hung low, but she was nervous. Would a family member hate her because of her heritage? She wasn’t a stranger to the discrimination—her fangs and claws had gotten her into a fair amount of sticky situations in the past. But the longer she stared at her great-grandfather, the warmer his features grew. Wrinkles retracted, his frown straightened out, shoulders drooped, and he eased back into the chair, crossing his arms over bright white robes. “I suppose that boy did bring something good into my home,” he muttered. Moroha couldn’t stop a small smile from forming.

“Moroha Dear,” Her grandma began with a tentative squeeze to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” Moroha nearly shouted, springing up from her chair and banging her fists onto the table. She was beginning to think that “hand banging” was a signature Higurashi family move. Shaking her head a few times, Moroha recalled the matter at hand, the reason she’d objected in the first place. Her grandma was apologizing even though Moroha was the one who’d failed to realize that her parents could be saved. It had been an entire decade and instead of dedicating it to finding them, she built a life without them.

It wasn’t long before two arms surrounded the quarter-demon, leaving her struggling to abandon them. It wasn’t that this woman felt untouchable, as a matter of fact, her yellow shirt was softer than most of the clothes she’d ever come across, but she didn’t understand why it was happening. “What are you doing?” Moroha finally asked as she stilled in her grandmother’s fierce embrace. She wondered if her own mom had been in this exact position before. Moroha chanced leaning into the touch.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the legends about the Bone Eater’s Well,” Her grandmother began, taking a deep breath. “That’s how your parents were able to meet. I still remember the first time Kagome came home, it was the one time she considered staying with us for good. Of course, she’d only been home a few hours before InuYasha burst through those doors and made a big scene. He always was so spirited and passionate; it wasn’t any surprise that Kagome started traveling between our two worlds shortly thereafter.

Their journey wasn’t easy, but they learned to support each other and fell in love. Afterwards, the well took InuYasha home to his era and Kagome remained here. We all missed your father but I was able to find peace just having Kagome near. She was restless, unable to find that same peace and when the well opened up for the last time, I gave her my blessing. I’ll never forget how she jumped into the well without looking back at me.” Moroha found her shoulders being pushed back so the two could look at one another. Her grandmother reached forward to caress her cheek. The bounty hunter swore she spotted pieces of her mom in her grandmother’s smile. Maybe the way the light from the ceiling lantern reflected in the older woman’s auburn eyes was the same too. It was all blurry. Moroha anchored herself to the floor, tucking those thoughts under her toes. That’s when her grandma started up again. “Since then, I chose to believe that your mom found the happiness she was searching for.” Tears like the teacup fragments glistened in those eyes now, adding a depth that Moroha’s mom simply couldn’t understand. “You’re my proof that Kagome lived a good life. The idea that she could–that InuYasha, too–it never crossed my mind. Moroha, things were very different for you.”

“Grandmother...”

Her grandma wrapped her back into an embrace quicker than Moroha could think. She couldn’t fight it off this time even if she tried. “It must have been difficult for you, I’m sorry.” And there it was, the sentence that left the so-called destroyer of lands a sniffling mess with hot crocodile tears and warm snot marring her ferocious features. “Even though your mother is gone, you’re our family and you are always welcome in our home.”

“But that’s the thing, Grandma! We can fix this! Aunt Kagome’s not dead, she’s still alive,” Towa exclaimed, effectively reminding Moroha that the others were still here. It left her tears drying up quickly.

“But how can that be?” Grandpa asked. “I fail to see how my precious granddaughter would just abandon her own family.”

“She hasn’t! Not really. She and the others have been trapped and now we know how to save them. We’re going to get them all back.”

Sota stood up from his chair again, abandoning his spot to make his way over to Moroha and her grandma. He placed his hand atop her head, ruffling her hair and stirring up a bunch of flyaways from her ponytail. “If there’s a way to save my sister and InuYasha, too, I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

“Really, Dad?”

“You realize this isn’t the first time the Higurashi family has dealt with a time traveling daughter,” he all but deadpanned, eyebrows pointed sharply at Towa.

Moroha felt her grandmother’s laughter as it echoed against her frame. “Yes, we’ll certainly be falling into an old routine.”

“At least the first-aid kits have gotten better over the years,” Sota offered with a shrug.

It was all so casual the way her family handled the situation. In the past, Moroha chose to stay away, but things had changed. There was new information, there was hope. If there was a way to resolve an issue then she’d face it head on. The thought guided her trademark smirk back to her face. A familiar determination began spreading through her veins. “From now on, we’ll do everything we can to find my mom and dad! We won’t let you down!”

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

📓

Hi Bones! You're getting the Big P4 Angst Idea! And it's going under a cut cause it's kind of A Beast even in summary form. Title in my head is Guilty Until Proven Capable or possibly just The Second Time Around. Fair warning, this is gonna get a little rambly.

So this one's a Persona 4 fic inspired by the handful of NG+ fics I've read that play with new game plus as a time loop for the protagonists because that's already a juicy concept. Specifically, it takes place at the beginning of the second time through events after getting the bad ending on December 3rd, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200, Bad Ending. Narukami wakes up in the Velvet Room the day before he's supposed to leave town and is basically told "you done fucked up, we're gonna give you another shot, but be careful what you try and change." Naturally, after the losses that happened and the evil fog deep unease lingering over town over the three months between making That Choice and leaving town, he jumps right at the chance to fix things. Wakes up on the train going into Inaba and starts the whole cycle over fresh. Things go as expected for most of the first couple of days.

And of course, as is the nature of time travel as a narrative device, the rules and limitations don't get Really Explained until he fucks something up and tries to change too much. Specifically, he tries to prevent Saki Konishi's death.

Specifically, he succeeds in preventing Saki Konishi's death.

And spends the day riding that high until the next morning where he meets up with her again, feels incredibly vindicated that he's already doing better when the bond starts forming and that means she's safe, and... hold up... Magus Arcana? That sounds an awful lot like Magician. And Yosuke's missing from school. Another body's been found. And he knows what's coming at the school assembly, knows what's about to be announced, and somehow seeing it coming makes it so much worse when the principal announces that Yosuke Hanamura has been found murdered. The only thing worse than your best friend being murdered is feeling responsible for it. Even worse than that is not even being able to mourn him properly because at this point you've technically only known him for 3 days.

The second time around, it's Saki Konishi at his side going in to investigate the second victim's death. The second time around, it's not the liquor store in a distorted version of the shopping district but the break room of a dilapidated Junes where Yosuke's last thoughts about the town he hates and the girl who almost makes it worth staying there hang in the stale air and summon the worst parts of the person at Yu's side. The second time around, it's a lot harder to forgive those darkest parts when her shadow talks about how glad she is that he's finally out of her hair and how she only wanted to avenge his death to assuage her guilt at feeling that way.

Harder, but not impossible. She awakens to her persona, Ayame, and again, things proceed mostly as normal.

Next trip to the Velvet Room, the rules get explained: the true victims will always die even if it's not the same ones every time, but not every death that occurred last time was that of a true victim; be careful changing too much from last time lest the team go in just as blind as the first time and twice as out of their depth; face the journey with eyes open not just to what happened as he remembers but as they unfold again, without grief clouding his purpose and they'll find their way to the truth. Easier said than done with one new death on his hands and Nanako's death looming in the future.

Some of the Social Links get shaken up, with Yosuke's father as the new Hanged Man arcana (helping him work through his grief at the loss of his son as he swings wildly between throwing himself blindly into his work, acting as a surrogate helicopter parent to Teddie, and second-guessing everything he's done since his son's death; is he giving his wife space to grieve by taking up the extra work at Junes or is he just hiding from her and his own pain? Is he helping Ted out of the goodness of his own heart because this weird kid needs someone to look after him and it's the right thing to do or is he trying to replace the son he's quickly realizing he didn't know anything about and was probably driving away with the constant moving? Heavy questions to drop on a 16 y/o part timer.) and Naoki replacing Yumi/Ayane as the Sun arcana (medical club rather than drama or band, partly because Naoki cornered him into joining so he could keep an eye on him and get a feel for Narukami's intentions with his sister, and partly because Yu is fascinated by how different the guy is when not numbed by a massive burden of grief he won't let himself process.) And of course letting Saki out of the fridge to be the Magus arcana, as kind and angry and complicated and flawed as the rest of the team, and just as good a friend to him as Yosuke was. With bonus opportunity to relay what Yosuke wanted to tell her about being special if they had both had the chance to live, her rank 10 leads to her awakening to the persona Kushinadahime.

And of course, this wouldn't be complete without addressing the lingering dread of what Yu is certain Nanako's fate is gonna be. Initially he debates keeping an arm's length between them or being The Best Big Bro On The Planet for her and settles on the latter because of course. Throws himself into it when he's not working on the balancing act between essentially metagaming and being complacent in the investigation. As November draws closer and closer, he eventually convinces himself to interfere like he did with Saki in the beginning. Because the most likely person to die in Nanako's place is his uncle and if he knew everything, it's the call Dojima would make. Because he's spent another year of watching his uncle brushing off his daughter and breaking her heart because he can't look her in the eye and deep down, it's hard to feel charitable seeing that and knowing what's going to happen, even knowing why. So he starts working on his argument to convince his parents to adopt Nanako when the time comes.

Through a little extra interference, it's Dojima who gets dragged into the tv alongside Namatame after he fails to kidnap Nanako, although she gets hurt in the struggle to take her and still ends up in the hospital. Rather than Namatame trying to flee after they wreck, it's Adachi who shoves them both in and convinces the team Namatame took Dojima as a hostage. Their shared dungeon is Purgatory rather than Heaven, and Yu's not sure if it's better or worse. Things mostly go as they do in game, although there's also a confrontation with Dojima's shadow before the big fight. It's rough, but they bring everyone home.

Of course, they get the choice right the second time around with Namatame, and when Nanako recovers from the fog everyone's relieved as hell, especially Yu. Y'know, until the guilt of "oh god I was willing to sacrifice my uncle and orphan my cousin to try and save her, what the hell is wrong with me?" hits him like a ton or twelve of bricks. Now that Dojima has seen everything in the other world, has seen firsthand that Yu was telling the truth, Yu confesses everything everything, including the fact that he's done this before and the choice he was going to make. It's, naturally, a lot to process.

The confrontation with Adachi is even angrier, in part because he's done more this time around, in part because of Yu's own guilt. But again, things go as they do in-game.

Playing with the idea of either the Orb of Clarity or Myriad Truths at the very end of the true ending giving everyone else the memories made in the previous "playthrough" or just. Letting that be one of those Protag Things They Never Tell The Team, either way it's gonna be bittersweet as hell because I'm a monster.

I have put so much thought into this work that's gonna be too damn big for me to ever finish if I ever tried to do it. But I need it. But that means I have to write it. Naturally, Andi, if you wanna take this into dms and yell at/with me over this idea, then by all means please do. It's a big enough longfic idea that that's probably the only way it's gonna see anything resembling the light of day.

Send me a 📓 (or other book emoji) and I'll talk about a fic idea I daydream about but haven't gotten around to writing!

[scream-into-the-voiddd]

Isabella Finch

Hi there,

I am putting to much thought into a show about a family of ducks again...but meh. I have return to you all with another point that has been bothering me since my latest watch of s3 ep 1.

Isabella finch.

In my last post (or lost?)

I pointed out that a finch hen (the type of bird Isabella is shown as, imo) is a type of FOWL. Now that was me reaching,

But!

I did make the point about FOWL being very aware about what was inside her journal (dispite the fact Scrooge did not)

Further more FOWL DO have at least one of the missing relics

The 3rd eye diamond,

That was turned into the intelli-ray by Black Heron. How did they find it without the journal? 

Scrooge and Huey needed it to just find mervana and it didn’t even mention how to find the harp/ customs of the mer-people...or you know the monster king. (I will give Isabella the benefit of the doubt of that one tho as it took years for the king to turn into a monster, and the place was already in ruins before the king left.)

But anyway.

the thing that has been bothering me about s3 ep1 was the map she left (that scrooge found) imaged here. 

now it shows some things from the ep, e.g. the lightening rain, the big ass bear and the flat volcano rock thing (where they end up).

here’s where things start to get to me...

the family goes “the wrong way” and Scrooge wants to follow finches path. But here’s the thing the path is ALREADY MARKED 

In fact after my last re-watch I figured something out... the whole family didn’t follow finches path (on the map) BUT one of them did...

HUEY...

the family is heading down in this sence and in the VERY NEXT scene Huey is heading up...like the marker indicates 

Huey goes through the lighting rain...

the rest of the family is lead around it.

Huey (at first) faces the bear

He then finds and climbs the large tree

The family just run from the bear and run into a cave (to get the plan back)

now here is the kicker, Huey and the family end up at the same place at the same time... despite having very different journeys   

as shown here

So what i am getting at here is simple Huey followed the plan and the rest of the family didn’t. 

Now what does that mean exactly?

Now we know the family was lead by a bird...but how did the bird know this alternative path? 

I think that was finch’s true path as i think this bird is finch’s og pet and not a descendent. Now why do i bring any of this up?

this season is focusing on legacies 

this is finch’s as a great fearless adventurer 

i would like to point out that Scrooge go a pulp adventure book 

pulp fiction is ...

“Term originated from the magazines of the first half of the 20th century which were printed on cheap "pulp" paper and published fantastic, escapist fiction for the general entertainment of the mass audiences. ... Pulps allowed its readers to experience people, places, and action they normally would not have access to.”

the real world equivalent looks something like this.

similar vibe, yes. and guess what these books are fake story’s like there is not really a recorded of pulp books (from that era) that were non-fiction as they were too cheaply made (underpaid writers, publishers) and fact checking was not really a thing for pulp books at the time.

So what am i getting at here..

I think Isabella Finch is/ was kind of a fraud or at least not like how she has been presented. Basically what I’m saying is either she or someone else re-wrote her history. 

Do i think she was smart and capable? YES

Do i think she was a bad person? that remains to be seen, but i am leaning towards no, (as her pet was kind, friendly and helpful and in shows like this peoples pets reflect who they are) 

Do i think she was brave? no, at least not like Scrooge thought her to be, as i think she was more like Huey, smart but unsure and sometimes out of her depth. 

Do i think she worked for FOWL? maybe, I think she was either tricked by them or she did not ask questions until it was to late (like say they funded her research/ adventures and she didn’t question what they were doing with the notes/ artefacts she was giving them)  but she hid them before it was to late.

and she left a false map, so that if FOWL did find it they would have a very hard time getting her hands on her journal.

Now the reason i even made this post was because i know Finch will come back in some way as she was a newly invented character for the show and you don;t do that for a throw away bit. Especially when there is already a Disney canon character established to have been a founded of the junior woodchucks, Clinton Coot.

 my point is she was made for a reason and i think her being a fallen ideal might be a big blow to scrooge, and it fits with the legacy/ re-writing history theme this season. 

but feel free to add

[aritany]

Hello! I hope you don't mind me asking, but how do you successfully complete your stories? And how long does it usually take you? I was wondering because I noticed you said WTTW has gone through several drafts and you're almost done with Sound Carries, when they're both enormous projects. What's the secret (haha)? :)

hi! this is a great question, and i apologize in advance if it gets a bit long - i have a lot of thoughts about this.

everything i’m about to say is from personal experience, and i know that what might work for me might not work for other writers (and sometimes what worked for me in the past doesn’t work for me in the present!), so take this with a grain of salt. 

the way things stand as of may 2020, i’ve written three first drafts and i’m almost finished with a fourth. i think i can boil down that success into 3 main points: i outline, i write my way out of boredom, and i don’t commit to a writing a story until i’m certain i have to tell it.

i outline.

there are a lot of ways to do this, and i’m not going to claim any one of them as ‘right’. i know there are lots of different ways to outline, but mine is pretty simple. don’t worry about chapters, just write out scenes. you can organize them into chapters afterwards. 

i’m tempted to call my outlining a draft, because i go pretty in depth. i don’t believe this is necessary for every writer, but it’s necessary for me. if this isn’t your style, you can skip this part. 

this is an example of my outline for the first couple of chapters of what no one wants to hear.

example from the first 4 chapters of where the trees whisper:

like i said, you don’t have to outline. the most important thing is: know how your story ends. it’s so much more difficult to finish a draft if you don’t know how or when it’s finished. 

again: in depth outlining is not the be-all-end-all and i’m certainly not saying that if you don’t do this you won’t finish. i’m saying that if i don’t do it, i probably won’t get very far. 

if you have any questions about outlining or my process for that, i’m really happy to answer in more detail! on to the second point.

i write my way out of boredom.

it’s inevitable. you’re writing, it’s going great, inspiration is flowing, you’re writing like you’ve never written before, and then all of a sudden, everything comes to a screeching halt. what? you ask yourself. but it was going so well! this happens. you are going to get bored of every single book you write at some point because that is a normal part of the process.

change your approach. this is where people give up (it’s not fun anymore! i know. it will be again.) or start to doubt themselves (maybe i’m not good enough for this! shut up! yes you are!). this is the part of writing that isn’t glamorous. ask yourself why you’re bored. too much writing not enough life? it’s more likely than you think. 

(if you’re burnt out, that’s a different story. that sucks, and you should probably take a break. read some books and watch some shows and definitely listen to music. you’re human and deserve a break. don’t drive yourself into the ground.)

solutions for boredom include: going for a walk, listening to music that makes you think about the project, writing with a different medium than you normally would (if you write on the computer, try writing by hand and vice versa). 

more solutions: write differently than you normally would (write only dialogue, or try your hand at writing setting descriptions for a bunch of different places in your story, even if it won’t end up in the book. no word is wasted!).

best solution (in my opinion): try writing sprints. just write some words. you can edit them in a different draft or after the timer goes off, but set a timer for 10-15 minutes and don’t delete anything! you will be surprised (pleasantly!)

don’t let boredom get the better of you. words beat boredom like paper beats rock. 

i don’t commit to writing a story until i’m certain i have to tell it.

i’ll say it. i’m an intense person. i let ideas mull in my head for a long time, sometimes up to a year before they’re ready to be written. i wrote what no one wants to hear in 3 months, but i think that was only possible because i first came up with the idea a full year before and let it sit. i think one of the most important parts of writing is daydreaming. if you want to finish a book, daydreaming is the best start. 

i really do believe that the goal in writing a story should be to tell a story that other people will fall in love with. if you aren’t obsessed with the idea, other people won’t be either. (okay, someone out there will. but generally, enthusiasm starts with you.) 

in summary: know where your story is going, don’t quit when you get bored, and make sure it’s a story worth telling.

just because you didn’t finish that one wip that one time, it doesn’t mean you never will. give yourself permission to stop and start if you need to (i wrote 2/3rds of sound carries, stopped, and wrote what no one wants to hear before i came back to it. that’s okay!), but don’t call it giving up.

as for how long it takes, that really depends. these are the stats for the first drafts of my books: 

- my first novel, fatal flaw, took 8 months. i never revisited that draft and i probably never will (i was 15 and it was... something else).

- my second novel, where the trees whisper, took 8 days. (i... don’t have an explanation for this. it was nanowrimo, i’d been planning/outlining it for 3 straight months.) it’s an entirely different story now (and about 30k words longer).

- my third novel, what no one wants to hear, took 3 months (with a year of daydreaming and planning behind it)

- my fourth novel, sound carries, is the longest running first draft i’ve ever had. i wrote the first scene in january of 2019, and i’m about 3/4 finished, maybe a little more. i’m hoping to be finished it by june 2020, though!

_____________

thanks for the ask! it was a lot of fun to write all this out.

in other news, i’m starting a writing advice taglist! i’ll be tagging anyone who’s interested in longer posts like these about any writing/plotting/outlining advice. let me know if you’re interested! the actual tag will be #advice with abby if you’d like to follow along but don’t want to be tagged.

taglist: @morgan-s-writes 

ask to be added/removed!

[jalapeno-princess]

Thought I Knew You

Mark Tuan x Reader x Park Jinyoung

Genre: Angst, some fluff and SMUT (very bad smut lol) (By the way, this is not a love triangle, sorry)

Word Count: 12k (aw shit I didn’t even realize how long this was hahaha)

Summary: You made the mistake of thinking you could be the one who changed Mark’s fuck boy ways and you end up falling in love with him. However, no matter how much Mark claimed to have loved you, nothing would be as important to him as his reputation.

A/n: This is based on the song “Cake” by Melanie Martinez. Y’all I am dying here in this quarantine it’s only day eight and I’m planning on shaving my sister bald. Please enjoy.

I'm not a piece of cake for you to just discard While you walk away with the frosting of my heart So I'm taking back what's mine, you'll miss The slice of heaven that I gave to you last night

Ever since you were a little girl, your parents would constantly warn you about the dangers of drugs. They wouldn’t fail to try and scare you with the kind of effects that it had on people and how drugs could ruin a person’s life once they were to get addicted. However, they failed to explain to you that drugs also came in human form.

Your parents never brought up the fact that drugs could have soft brown eyes, pink heart shaped lips, rosy cheeks, sharp nose and a well defined jaw.

Drugs could have a smile, that could make your heart rate increase as much as it could decrease without seeing it. Drugs could have a laugh that you were sure could cure cancer. Mark Tuan was a drug, your favorite drug and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t addicted.

“Y/n, oh God, please tell me it isn’t true.” You looked at your friend in confusion and tried to help her catch her breath in order for her to go in to depth about what she was referring to. She looked as if she ran a mile in order to come and find you. Your mind couldn’t process why she was so adamant on looking for you as if something was wrong.

“What are you talking about? What’s not true?” She gave you a knowing look and took one more breath before releasing a frustrated sigh.

“You slept with Mark Tuan?” As soon as she said those words, your heart sank and you were sure all color was drained from your face. How did she know? It was a secret meant to be kept between the two of you. Was he spreading the news all around school when he promised not to? What did he think he would get from that? You wanted to throw up. This is what you were afraid of when you first got involved with the older boy.

You knew Mark was bad news. He was known to be the biggest fuck boy in school. Mark had a reputation for sleeping around and he never hooked up with the same girl twice. That is why you made a promise to yourself to never get involved with him, no matter how extremely charming and devastatingly handsome he was. You refused to let your heart get broken by someone who obviously didn’t care about anyone but himself.

However, you don’t regret falling for the charming boy. Sure, he lured you in with his sweet words, countless love confessions, soft kisses, gentle touches and promises to change his ways in order to be a better person for you. But it was your fault for believing in his lies. For putting your trust in someone like him, someone infamous for getting everything he wanted. He made you feel important in the six months the two of you spent together, but now that he got what he wanted, you knew it was over for the both of you.

It was the beginning of your junior year in college, and you were doing just fine. School was always your main focus and you tried your best in everything you did. From the time you won the science fair in 3rd grade, to becoming the president of the national honor society and being nominated as your high school valedictorian, you were known to be one of the smartest people in school. Which is why your English professor pulled you to the side and gave you a really good offer you knew you couldn’t refuse. Until you heard what he was having you do.

When the name Mark Tuan fell from his lips, you didn’t hear anything after that. All the words that your professor said went through one ear and out the other. You were quick to apologize and declined his promises of writing you multiple letters of recommendation and the immediate A+ he would give you for doing him such a huge favor. Although he was upset, he couldn’t blame you for not wanting to tutor the infamous bad boy.

Hearing your professor practically beg you for your help upset you; Mark was a grown man. Even though he obviously didn’t give a shit about his education, he should take responsibility and do whatever he could to maintain his grades. But he was too busy partying, getting high and fucking anything that had legs.

Mark was completely aware that your professor had reached out to you and asked you to help him out with his school work. He wasn’t going to lie, he found you extremely attractive and he admired how dedicated you were to your education. By the way you barely paid any attention to guys other than your best friend Jinyoung, he was sure you were still a virgin and Mark made it his goal to be the one to take away your innocence.

He knew it was selfish of him to want to do such a thing, but he was well aware of how much of a goody two shoes you were and how you thought you were better than everyone else. Mark wanted to be the one to fuck that mentality out of you. That’s how he came up with the plan to break down your walls and get you to fall for him.

The day after your professor talked to you, it didn’t take too long for the boy in question to come up to you and ask you for help himself. You and Jinyoung were studying in the library when you felt a presence join the two of you. Once you looked up to see who it was, you had to do a double take when he took a seat across of you and a frown immediately rose upon your face.

“What are you doing here Tuan?” Mark ignored the disgusted groan that came from your best friend and gave you his direct attention.

“I know professor Kim talked to you about possibly tutoring me in English and I’m pretty sure you declined. So I’m here, asking you myself to prove to you that I’m serious about wanting to raise my grade. I can’t afford to fail y/n and I know you’re my only hope. I’ll do anything. Please.” You let out a scoff and you couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh at the look of anger on Jinyoung’s face.

Jinyoung may not look like someone who could fight, but when it came to you; he would do anything. Which is why you were sure he was very close to jumping across the table and smacking the arrogant smirk off of Mark’s face. As you were about to open your mouth to respond, Jinyoung beat you to it.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way in hell she’ll do that for you. She has a lot more to worry about than your failing grades. You should’ve thought about your education before putting your head between the legs of random girls.” Your eyes widened in shock at Jinyoung’s sudden outburst but Mark was quick to retaliate.

“Scared your little girlfriend is the next person who’s thighs I’ll be in between next? Don’t bother. You’re cute and all y/n, but don’t think so highly of yourself because of what a great student you are. And I wasn’t asking you Park Jinyoung. I was asking our pretty little princess here. Although y/n, if it’s sex that you want in order to get you to tutor me, I wouldn’t mind blowing your back out—“ Everything happened so fast that it took you a while to process the scene going on in front of you. As soon as Mark mentioned hooking up with you, Jinyoung was on his feet and immediately lunged at the older boy. He gripped at his collar and pulled Mark up so that he was standing face to face with him.

“You lay a finger on her, and I’ll make sure you’ll be crossing the graduation stage in a wheel chair. That’s if you graduate punk ass. Now leave.” Mark yanked Jinyoung’s hands off of him before scoffing.

“I’m not afraid of someone like you.” He turned to you and gave you a knowing glance. “Please think about it y/n. And don’t let lover boy here make the decision for you.” Once Mark was gone, you walked over to Jinyoung and took a look at him to make sure he was okay. He pulled you in to his chest and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Please promise me you won’t waste your time on someone like him. He doesn’t deserve your help. He’ll only use you y/n and you’re worth so much more than that. I don’t care how much extra credit professor Kim is offering you, it isn’t worth it and neither is he.” You ran your fingers gently through Jinyoung’s hair and sighed. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought of how protective Jinyoung was over you. It was sweet and sometimes you wondered why the two of you weren’t more than just friends. It was obvious that Jinyoung cared about you and you made it known that you felt the same. But you never had romantic feelings towards him, as much as you wanted to.

You knew Jinyoung would take good care of you, and you did get jealous whenever you saw how close some girls would get to him. Although, you couldn’t blame them for fawning over him. Jinyoung, in lack of better words was gorgeous. He was definitely a sight for sore eyes and you were sure he could be a model or even an actor if he really wanted to. But you just didn’t see him as anything more than just a friend and a part of you felt that it was because you were afraid to lose him if things didn’t work out between the two of you.

You sighed against his neck before nodding in agreement, however; deep down you knew you were going to go along with tutoring Mark. If he was willing to go through the lengths of asking you for your help personally, you knew he was serious about doing better in school.

A few days after the incident in the library, you built up the courage to go up to Mark and tell him that you’d go along with tutoring him. To say he was shocked was an understatement. After getting in to an argument with Jinyoung and saying some mean things about you just a few days prior, he didn’t think you’d give in. In fact, after saying such degrading things about you, he’d thought you’d be disgusted and want nothing to do with him. Which is why he was confused to hear that you were willing to help him bump up his grade. He wasn’t too sure what got you to agree, but he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by.

“So I’m taking it that your boy toy has no clue that you’re here right now and that you’re agreeing to tutor me.” You stared at the ground and shook your head in disagreement. Mark brought his fingers down to your chin and lifted it so that you were making eye contact with him. You weren’t going to lie, as much as you wanted to hate the arrogant and narcissistic boy standing in front of you, his touch did send shivers down your spine. But you were quick to shove his hand away before raising your finger up at him in disgust.

“I’m going to set some ground rules Tuan-“ he gave you a smirk.

“Ooh, my last name. I’m so scared.” The glare you sent him got him to shut up and you released an exasperated sigh.

“This stays between you and I. Got it? Nobody is to know that I’m tutoring you and if I find out from anyone else that I’ve been helping you, this whole thing is over. Don’t you dare try to take advantage of me. Oh, and don’t touch me. We will meet under my schedule, I’m the one helping you after all and don’t do anything you know is going to piss me off. I’m a nice person, but I don’t liked to be fucked with.” He sniggered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight. Jinyoung isn’t giving you what you want huh? I’m sure I could fix your attitude if you just let me-“ You threw your hands up in defeat and began to walk away, but Mark’s reflexes were faster. He gripped your wrist and pulled you in to him, earning himself a groan.

“Is that all you think about? Sex? No wonder why you’re failing. I’m honestly beginning to regret this.” Mark gave you an expressionless look. He had a hard time understanding why you were actually wanting to help him. It was clear that you hated his guts and wanted nothing to do with him. And although your professor probably offered you extra credit, he was sure it wasn’t enough to get you to give up your pride and help him out. So what was it?

“Y/n. Why are you wanting to help me? I’m an asshole and I’m obviously not deserving. Did professor Kim pay you? Did my parents set you up to this? What is it?” You shrugged. One thing you hated about yourself was how nice you could be sometimes.

As much as you wanted Mark to solve this problem on his own, you wouldn’t be able to live normally without the guilt eating away at you. Like your professor said, you were his only hope. You didn’t care about the offers you were given; you were a straight a student with a 4.3 g.p.a. What more could you really need?

“I like helping others I guess. But don’t take advantage of it. I’m already busy as it is. If I feel as if you’re not putting your all in to our study sessions, I’ll stop them altogether.”

He lifted up his pinky and reached for yours, twisting them together. “I promise. Thank you for this, I promise you won’t regret it. Well, see you tomorrow then y/n.”

In the first few days of tutoring him, you found yourself getting frustrated with Mark. Although you made it completely clear in the beginning that the two of you would meet on your time, he was always running late. One time, you waited almost an hour in the coffee shop and right before you picked up your things and left, he came storming in; murmuring countless apologies and telling you how it wouldn’t happen again.

Most of the time the both of you spent together was solely focused on helping him with his English homework. But then the brought up that he wasn’t doing too well in math and science also. He would try to have small talk here and there, but you weren’t having any of it. You told him countless times that you weren’t there for anything more than to tutor him and after a while, he accepted it.

To your delight, Mark was a good listener and fast learner. You couldn’t help but notice the many glances he would steal and how you could feel his eyes on you from time to time. It would always send warmth to your cheeks, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for things like that. After a month of your help, his grades began to rise but he still needed your help. He became more of a gentleman the longer he spent time with you. Since you were helping him, he would pay for your coffee and sometimes bring you a snack to all of your sessions.

Unfortunately, the two of you ended up having to exchange phone numbers in order to plan out your tutoring sessions, but after a while you actually liked texting him. At first, he would only text you when he had a question on some homework, but then it turned in to memes that he found funny, videos that he thought you’d like and sometimes he would ask you how you were doing. You tried so hard not to fall for his charm, but it was hard because he was always so sweet to you.

Two months in to your lessons, you took note that he would always compliment you on every little thing. Whether it be your clothes, the way you did your makeup or the way you styled your hair, he never failed to tell you how pretty you were or how cute you looked. And he always made sure to tell you how smart he thought you were and how he could only wish to be even half of an amazing student as you were.

Mark wasn’t aware of how you’d get home whenever the two of you would finish your sessions together; you’d always tell him to go first so you could finish your homework before heading back to your apartment. So when he saw you walking back to your place one night after the two of you finished around 10:00 p.m. he felt worried and he hated himself for not offering you a ride home.

He turned his car around and sped towards you. In the beginning, this was just a game to him. He would get free lessons from you and get to have his way with you if things ended the way he wanted them to. However, three months after getting to know you, he realized that he no longer wanted to use you, nor did he want to take advantage of your kindness and generosity. He was falling for you and he had no intentions of stopping.

Mark liked every little thing about you. People say nobody’s perfect, but he was sure you came pretty close. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The way you smiled with your eyes, laughed at his jokes like he was the funniest person on earth and blushed at his compliments captivated Mark in ways no one ever has before. He found himself wanting to be the reason behind your contagious smile, he wanted to be the one you ran to when times got hard and to be the one you confide in when you feel as if the whole world was against you. He wanted to be the one who got to love you.

He was scared, he’s never felt this way about anyone before. Mark wanted to protect you from everything evil. However, he failed to realize he would be the one he’d have to protect you from.

The honking from behind you startled you to say the least, and you knew you had nothing to protect yourself with if someone were to try and kidnap you. But once he got out of the car and made his way toward you, taking your things and walking back to his car, you released a sigh of relief.

“Yn, get in.” You were hesitant, but you found yourself climbing in the passenger seat anyway. You quietly thanked him while looking out your window to prevent him from seeing the small grin you were now wearing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been walking home this entire time? I could’ve been dropping you off. It’s dangerous out there you know.”

It’s more dangerous in here, alone with you. Unfortunately, you broke the promise you made to yourself. You had developed feelings for Mark, but it was inevitable for you to do so. You were around him almost every day. His optimism and the fact that he was actually trying when it came to his work and his grades made your tummy warm. It was as if he wanted to prove to you that your lessons were worth it and that he wanted to make you proud.

Then came the phone calls in the wee hours of the morning. Mark found a confidant in you; he would tell you things you were sure he wouldn’t dare telling anyone else. You were well aware of who his friends were and how they could be. If they heard how he was afraid of not getting in to the engineering program at UCLA, they would’ve laughed in his face. But he felt safe with you, he knew you wouldn’t judge him and he knew you would encourage him to pursue his dreams. He trusted you and he’s never trusted anyone before.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, but it was a peaceful silence. You found yourself sneaking glances at him, basking in his attractiveness and how concentrated he looked when driving. As much as you wanted to stop yourself from liking him, it was too late. You were in too deep. All too quickly, he pulled up to your complex and parked his car. Before you could thank him and say your goodbyes, he was walking to open your door and grabbed your things.

“Here, I’ll walk you up. I want to make sure you get up safely.” It’s as if he knew you were about to decline; he began walking towards your lobby and waited for you to lead the way.

“It’s okay Mark. I’m a big girl, I can walk by myself—“ he placed his finger on your lips in order to get you keep quiet, but it only made things harder for you. Once the two of you made it up to your door, you thanked him one more time and grabbed your things. He had a blank expression on his face and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. As you were about to speak up, his lips were on yours.

His lips tasted like hot chocolate and potato chips; an odd combination that you were now very fond of because it reminded you of him. You would find yourself staring at his lips every so often, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. But you would push the thought away to the back of your mind every time you thought about being intimate with him.

Red flags were going off in your head, but you ignored them. One of his hands made their way down to your waist as the other one roughly cupped your cheek. Your hands wrapped around his neck and you found yourself deepening the kiss. You couldn’t explain how amazing kissing Mark felt. It was as if your entire body was on fire and he was the only thing to put the flame out.

Feeling him moan in to your mouth as you bit down on to his bottom lip sent a tingling sensation to your core and that’s when you decided to pull away. You didn’t care how badly you wanted him in that moment, you weren’t going to completely give yourself to Mark anytime soon and you were going to make it known to him that you weren’t just a toy he could play with and discard when he was done with you.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. But fuck, that was amazing—“ you gave him a soft smile before running your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t apologize, I wanted that as much as you probably did. I um..I should get going. Thank you again for tonight, see you tomorrow?” He beamed up at you and you could feel your stomach swarm with butterflies. He placed one more kiss on the corner of your lips before waving goodbye to you. It all felt so surreal. If someone were to tell you months ago that you’d be making out with Mark Tuan of all people, you’d laugh in their face. But it happened, and you couldn’t be more excited to see how things were going to go for the both of you.

Once you walked in to your apartment, the huge grin you were wearing soon fell when you saw Jinyoung with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Being both your roommate and your best friend, you would always let Jinyoung know of your whereabouts and if you were coming home late. However, when he didn’t hear from you and you didn’t respond to his text or phone calls, he got worried. You’ve been acting pretty secretive lately and although he didn’t think he had the right to get involved in your business, he couldn’t help but feel as if you were hiding something from him.

Jinyoung was like an open book, he told you everything and anything about himself. He was very vocal to you about his dreams and goals to his self doubts and insecurities. He told you all about the girls he had crushes on and cried in to your shoulder whenever he got his heart broken. So when he was about to go on a manhunt for you and walked outside only to see you kissing Mark, he was furious. Did he not warn you all those months ago about how Mark was bad news and not to waste your time with him? How long have you been seeing him for? Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel angry, but that’s because he cared about you. Sometimes, a little too much.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on?” You looked at him in curiosity and shrugged. You were sure he saw what just happened, so there was no use in lying to him. However, you’ve never seen Jinyoung so upset over something before. One time, his friend Yugyeom asked to borrow his car and even if Jinyoung declined many times, he found himself giving in to the younger boy. Just a few hours later, he got a call from a towing company, saying that his car has been towed because it was parked in a no parking zone. Jinyoung was furious and didn’t speak to Yugyeom for weeks. You were sure tonight was going to end just as badly as that night did.

“I’ve been tutoring him.” Jinyoung looked at you as if you grew another head.

“After I told you not to? After I warned you about him? Y/n, I’m sure you know all about him. He’s going to break your heart right after he gets what he wants. He doesn’t like you, he likes your body and the fact that you’ve been tutoring him for free is just a bonus. This was his plan after all. He’s going to fuck you and dump you like he does every girl in the fucking school. I can’t believe this.”

Hearing him say such mean things about you broke your heart. Jinyoung never bad mouthed you and fought anybody who did. Jackson Wang found himself with a black eye after Jinyoung heard him call you such degrading names when you bumped in to him at a club once. It was times like this where you felt as if Jinyoung had feelings for you, but you were too afraid to bring it up. You continued to let him say what he wanted to; you were too hurt to say anything back. But what was there to say? As much as you wanted to believe Mark liked you and would take care of you, Jinyoung had a point.

When he saw you tearing up, he wanted nothing more than to pull you in to his embrace and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while apologizing for hurting your feelings; but he was too frustrated with the situation and he was afraid he was going to say something that would end your friendship completely.

Once he was done with his rant, he stormed in to his room and slammed the door, leaving you on the living room floor crying hysterically. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your best friend, but you were afraid that this was going to happen. That’s why you kept Mark a secret the entire time. The next morning, you got a text from Mark asking if you wanted to go out for breakfast to which you were quick to agree to.

After hearing Jinyoung mention that Mark was only using you, you became hesitant of spending time with him. You were afraid that Jinyoung’s words were the truth and that Mark would hurt you in the end. But your stupid heart craved him. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready to go see him. You put on a cute little sundress and applied a light amount of makeup. When you saw the dried tears from last night, your heart began to hurt at the thought of Jinyoung’s disappointed face; but you couldn’t let him get to you.

You were old enough to make your own decisions and if it came back later to bite you in the ass, then so be it. Mark let you know that he was there, so you grabbed your bag and made your way to the living room. When you saw that Jinyoung’s door was shut, you wanted to go and apologize but you didn’t want to make him even more upset. You made your way downstairs and a smile rose upon your face when Mark came in to view. His expression quickly mirrored yours when you came in to view and he immediately pulled you in to his embrace before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Hey baby. You look beautiful as always. Shall we?” You nodded in agreement. For the next month, you fell in love with him. He explained his feelings for you on the second date and every single detail made your head spin. The way he described you with so much beauty and grace made your heart combust and you’ve caught him looking at you as if you were the one who set the stars in the sky on multiple occasions.

Unfortunately, you and Jinyoung haven’t talked since the night he found out about you and Mark, but you were so occupied with Mark that you didn’t really notice his absence. However, you did find yourself missing him and Mark took notice at how you were never completely happy no matter how much you tried to play yourself out to be. Your smile no longer reached your eyes and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it was because of Jinyoung.

“Babe.” The two of you were over at his place watching a movie when you felt him tug on your shirt. “Let’s go.” You looked at him in confusion.

“Go where?” He gave you a sad smile before getting up, carefully pulling you up with him.

“We’re gonna go to your place and you’re going to make things right with Jinyoung. I hate seeing you so distressed. You’re not yourself these days. I miss hearing that beautiful laugh of yours that I love so much. And don’t try to deny it. You’re not happy baby and I want to make things right, no matter how much I hate Park Jinyoung.”

It wasn’t that Mark hated Jinyoung. In fact, he was extremely jealous of the younger boy; though he would never voice his worries to you. You and Jinyoung had a very close bond. The two of you were attached to the hip and although you and Mark had something as of right now, he was sure that if you had to choose between the two, you’d go with Jinyoung. From an outsiders point of view, the two of you were sure to be a couple. That’s why it came as a shock to Mark when you told him there was nothing going on between you and Jinyoung.

However, he couldn’t help but feel as if the reason why Jinyoung was so protective over you was because he had feelings for you and he couldn’t blame him. The thought worried Mark, he hated thinking that there was a reason he would lose you. Things were going so well between the two of you and he finally came to terms with the fact that he was in love with you.

The drive back to your place was nerve wrecking. You weren’t even sure if Jinyoung was home. He hasn’t been home during the times you were and you knew he made it that way. Mark’s free hand found yours and he gently grazed your wrist with his thumb. “It’ll be okay baby. He’ll come around.”

Your heart felt so warm knowing that Mark wanted you to reconcile with Jinyoung even if you were completely aware that the two boys weren’t fond of each other. He was willing to do whatever he could in order to make you happy again and it only made your feelings for him grow stronger. When you and Mark pulled up to your building, he told you he’d stay in the car while waiting for you and to let him know if you needed him to come upstairs.

Once you got in to your apartment, it didn’t take you long to find him. Jinyoung was standing at the kitchen counter with a beer in his hands. When his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he wanted to walk towards you but stopped himself from doing so. You felt as if your heartstrings were getting pulled at and you were sure if things didn’t end the way you had planned them to tonight, Park Jinyoung would be the one to rip your heart out completely.

“Hey.” He nodded in your direction before taking a chug of his beer. Jinyoung wasn’t a drinker. The only time he ever drank was when he was nervous or pissed off and you knew it was the latter. You made your way towards him and stole the beer out of his hands before taking a sip of it yourself.

“Can we talk. Please?” He released a long sigh before nodding and making his way towards the couch. The two of you sat in silence for a couple of minutes, neither of you knowing what to say. You opened your mouth to speak up, but he beat you to it.

“Where’s lover boy?” You nervously bit your lip and shrugged.

“He’s waiting downstairs.” Jinyoung took another swig at his beer and took a quick look at you. He knew the distance between you both was having a toll on you. You lost a few pounds, the eye bags under your eyes were dominant and your eyes no longer held the beautiful glow in them that he adored so much. Was this because the two of you weren’t talking? He must’ve looked just as bad as you did if not worse.

When you felt him graze your arm, you knew things were okay. Jinyoung could never stay mad at you, he had the biggest soft spot for you and you were one of the only people he needed in his life.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? “I overreacted and ended up putting our friendship on the line. I didn’t meant to stay away for so long. I’m just a stubborn asshole. I’ve missed you so much. Fuck y/n, I would honestly rather you date a monkey than that asshole. You know I only acted like that because I care about you right? Your happiness means a lot to me and I know how Mark is. I don’t want him breaking your heart. I’ll kill him if he ever does.” You softly giggled.

“I’m not worth going to jail for Jinyoung.” He shook his head in disagreement before pulling you on to his lap.

“I’d do anything for you. Remember that. These last few weeks without you have been torture and I learned that I can’t physically live without you. Please don’t hide things from me anymore. I can’t promise you he and I will be friends, but we can at least be cordial for your sake. He um..he’s taking good care of you right?”

You nodded in agreement before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through Jinyoung. I promise to be a better friend, I hate not having you in my life. You’re my best friend, I refuse to be without you anymore. You’ll always be the most important man in my life. Remember that.”

After a few minutes of catching up and continuing your apologies, he sent you on your way. When you got in to Mark’s car, he was quick to notice the wide grin on your face and his heart fluttered. Your smile did wonders to him.

“I’m taking things ended well?” You nodded in agreement as the two of you made your way back to his place. Mark had asked you to be his girlfriend almost two months after your first date and you could honestly say you felt as if you were on cloud nine. He was the perfect boyfriend. Your happiness was his main focus and he did whatever he could in order to make you happy. He never forced you in to doing anything you didn’t want to and allowed you to set the pace of your relationship.

The two of you were kept a secret, but you liked it that way. You didn’t want anyone else being involved in your relationship. A huge part of you felt that if people were to find out about you and Mark, that’s when things would go downhill. You could tell Mark really did change his ways to impress you and you knew that as much as he wanted to take things slow with you, he was slowly losing his resolve. Every time the two of you made out, you could tell he wanted to take things further with you, but you just weren’t ready to give yourself to him just yet. Which is why Mark would excuse himself to the bathroom almost every single time things got hot and heavy and helped himself with the problem in his pants before returning back to you.

However, you were becoming just as impatient as he was and your body craved to be one with your boyfriend. One night, you were over at Mark’s place, attempting to help him study; but one thing led to another and the two of you found yourself making out on his bed. His hands made their way all around your body as his tongue left marks along the juncture of your neck and jaw. You could feel him against your thigh and the feeling sent shivers down your spine. When he noticed his painful and fast growing erection, he tried to pry you off in order to find means of release, but you were quick to continue your ministrations of grinding on to his thigh.

“Y/n—“ Hearing him moan in to your ear was an indescribable feeling and you could feel your core begin to throb.

“I trust you Mark. Take me please. I’m all yours.” The animalistic growl that came from the back of his throat didn’t go unnoticed to you and you found yourself rubbing your thighs together in order to create any sort of friction to help your building orgasm.

Mark was well aware that you were a virgin, you explained to him many times that you wanted to wait for the right person to lose your virginity to. Seeing the way Mark looked at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes; you knew he was the one you wanted to give yourself to.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you baby. I promise.” He placed gentle kisses along your face before dragging his fingertips along your body. His lips marked their territory along your chest, sucking and nipping at your clothed breasts before ultimately ripping your bra off; earning himself a whine from you.

“Mark! That was my favorite bra!” He giggled in to your neck.

“I’ll buy you more princess. Now hush. It’s time to eat.” He played with both of your breasts before taking one completely in to his mouth whilst playing with your other one, massaging your breast and twisting at your nipple. You couldn’t fathom in to words how good this all felt. He knew exactly what to do to make you squirm. When he was done loving on your breasts, he made his way down to your extremely soaking pussy. He brought his finger to your slit and all but gently traced his index finger against it, collecting some of your juices and bringing it in to his mouth.

“Mmm, you taste so good and you’re so fucking wet.” He shoved his two fingers inside of your cunt and began to pump, causing you to moan and release the most erotic sighs. Your facial expressions only made Mark harder to the point where he needed to distract himself. He finally lowered himself to where you needed him the most and kissed your inner thighs before taking the time to suck and nibble on them.

You tried pushing his head towards your entrance so that he would get the hint that you needed him to do anything to help the hot sensation between your legs but he continued to tease you. It wasn’t until he heard you beg that he finally gave you what you wanted. When you felt him lick a strip along your center, you almost screamed but you were quick to bit your lip in order to keep the noise at a minimum.

The grip he had on your thighs and hearing him lick and slurp against your very sopping pussy brought you closer to the edge. To your dismay, he pulled away in order order to catch his breath and to see the effect it was having on you. Seeing him smile so innocently while he was doing such a sinful act made you chuckle, but it was soon replaced by a moan when he reattached his lips to your clit. The feeling of him eating you out while pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace was sending you over the moon.

You tried your best to gently tug on his hair, but the faster and harder he went only made you get rougher yourself. In his previous experiences, your boyfriend hated hair pulling. It always interrupted him because of how painful it was. But seeing the effect his fingers and his tongue had on you and feeling you tug on his curly locks only turned him on more. He loved the feeling of your long, dainty fingers pulling at his hair. It just proved how much you were enjoying his ministrations.

Soon, you felt yourself releasing all over his tongue and your boyfriend lapped all of your juices up. He made his way back up to you and placed a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. “How was that princess? You taste amazing by the way. I could eat you out for hours.”

You smirked up at him. “It seems as though I’ve been missing out on such a mind blowing experience. That was wonderful, thank you.”

He got up from the bed and made his way toward his dresser, taking out a condom and returning back to his spot in bed. “Y/n, you sure you want this? We can wait baby. You know I’ll wait however long you need me to. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to—FUCK.” You playfully brought your hands in to his sweats and began to palm him through his underwear. However, Mark was quick to stop your teasing all together.

He pulled off both his sweats and his underwear before placing the condom on to his hardened cock. He was huge. You’ve heard a couple of your friends talk about their first times and a part of you was nervous of the stretch they all seemed to talk about. From every experience you’ve heard about, it was painful. But you trusted your boyfriend and you knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He lined himself at your entrance and dragged himself along your folds to lubricate himself.

“It’s going to hurt a little in the beginning, so tell me if you need me to stop. But I promise it will feel so good later.” He slowly brought himself inside of you and you bit your lip to try and hide how painful it was. When Mark saw your uncomfortable facial expression, he connected your lips together in order to take your mind off of the pain. However, you knew your boyfriend was having a hard time staying inside of you and not doing anything.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?” You pinched at his bicep and quietly let him know that it was okay to move. He released a sigh of relief before pumping in to you. “Fuck, you’re so tight and extremely wet. You’re taking me so well baby. So, so good. Just like that.” With every thrust, the pain was replaced with pleasure and you began to beg your boyfriend to go faster.

“Mark..baby..I need you to go f—faster. Please. F—fuck.” Your boyfriend pounded in to you at such a rapid pace and you loved every single second of it. His hands that were gripping tightly on to your waist made their way up to your hands and he intertwined the two together. Seeing your beautiful mounds bounce as he pumped himself in to you was an erotic sight for Mark and he couldn’t take it, it was all too much.

“Y/n, I love you. I love you so fucking much baby. You’re mine. All mine.” Hearing those three words fall from his lips was an indescribable feeling. You didn’t think people like Mark were capable of love, but you knew he was sincere and meant every single word.

“Please tell me you’re close. I don’t want to come before you do. Fuck baby, you’re actually going to be the death of me.” After a few more minutes of skin on skin slapping, countless moans, grunts and murmurs of sweet nothings, you were coming all over his cock. With the way you were clenching around him, Mark came not too long afterwards. He plopped down on your chest and connected your lips together before resting his face in between your breasts.

You gently ran your fingers through his hair and smile softly at him. “Mark?” He looked up at you with the cutest look of curiosity on his face and hummed. “Did you mean it? You love me?” He happily nodded in agreement before placing a long, passionate kiss on your lips.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re an ethereal being y/n. I cannot fathom in to words how wonderful you are. You’re an actual dream baby. By the way, that was mind blowing. I’m never going to get enough of you. How are you even real?” You giggled against his neck and pulled him closer to you, the need to be near him was unreal.

“How was that? Was I okay? I know I probably didn’t know what I was doing and I’m sure you’ve been with girls with more experience—“ he placed a finger against your lips to silence you before pushing some of your hair back.

“You were amazing y/n. I‘m having a hard time believing this was your first time. You took me so well. You’re actually the best sex I’ve had and I’m sure it’s because you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved  and the only girl I ever plan on loving.” Tears started to brim at your eyelids and he gently kissed them away before they had a chance to fall. “Come on love, let’s go to bed.”

From that day on, the two of you had a sexual awakening. He meant it when he said once he’s had a taste of you, he wouldn’t get enough. The two of you relinquished in your love pretty much anywhere, the thought of someone catching you only heightened your excitement. Unfortunately, you were too busy falling in love with Mark to notice the world going on around you.

It wasn’t until your friend pulled you to the side to ask you what was going on that made you realize your fairytale was soon to become a nightmare.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re not even friends.” You remembered the pact the two of you made about nobody knowing of your relationship and now you felt as if Mark purposely made it that way. He claimed to have wanted to protect you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if he was ashamed of your relationship and was trying to hide you. She furrowed her brows in confusion before continuing.

“Well you better go set him straight then. He’s telling everyone he took your virginity and that you’ve been begging him to sleep with you again.” Her words sent you in to a frenzy and you became numb. You could only hope and pray that what she was saying wasn’t true. But Jinyoung’s words were coming back to haunt you.

He’s only going to break your heart once he gets what he wants.

You made your way to the cafeteria where you were sure he was and searched the crowed for your boyfriend. When you finally found him, you marched over towards him and released a frustrated sigh when you noticed he wasn’t alone. There was nothing more you hated than Mark’s unfortunate group of friends. They were all fuck boys and some of the biggest narcissistic assholes in your school. You never understood how Mark could be friends with such losers, but you weren’t one to tell your boyfriend how to live his life. Bambam was the first one to spot you and when he did, the obnoxious boy began to whistle.

“Look what we have here. Isn’t it the beautiful y/n. Was Mark’s dick that good that you came back for more?” Strike one. You ignored him and made your way towards Mark.

“We need to talk.” The rest of his friends began to boo as you grew impatient while waiting for his response.

“Ooooh Markie, she wants to talk. Get in line princess. There’s hundreds of girls waiting to hook up with him, what makes you any special?” Strike two. The fact that Mark wasn’t speaking up sent a jab to your heart and you could feel it slowly breaking with every second you were waiting for him to defend you, to fight for you. But you were left with nothing.

“Get out of here y/n.” You could tell in his eyes he was pleading for you to leave, it was obvious things were going to get ugly. You could tell he was trying to nonverbally communicate with you that he would talk to you later, but you saw a side of him that you had thought no longer existed. The boy who listened to what his friends would say. The boy who cared about his reputation more than anything else. Obviously more than you. The person sitting in front of you wasn’t your boyfriend, you didn’t know who he was. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to get it off of your chest, even if it meant walking away single.

“Why are you telling people we’ve slept together?” He scoffed before standing up and walking toward you.

“Because we did. Is there a problem with that? Most girls flaunt off the fact that they’ve hooked up with me. That’s the reason why you agreed to tutor me so easily isn’t it? Because you wanted to get in my pants? God y/n, girls like you are pathetic. Face it, girls like you could never get a guy like me no matter how hard you try. You’re nothing but a pretty face, brains and some nice tits. Just like many other girls in this school. Like BamBam said, you’re nothing special. If anything, you should’ve listened to Jinyoung. I was only using you to tutor me. Not only did I raise my grades with your help, but I got pretty good sex too. Practically a steal if you ask me. You were a good fuck, I’m not going to lie. But that’s all you’ll ever be to me. A good fuck—“

Strike three. The loud slap could be heard throughout the entire cafeteria to the point where all heads were turned in your direction. You couldn’t respond, couldn’t process what he just said. You were humiliated; you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. All you could do was smack him across the face as tears built up in your eyes but you refused to cry in front of him. He wasn’t worth your tears. You knew he didn’t mean a word he said.

Your Mark, the love of your life; you were sure he was replaced by some monster. The Mark you were in love with would never do anything to hurt you, yet here he was, making a fool out of you, the only person he claimed to have any meaning to him in order to impress his stupid friends.

“I am so stupid. I should’ve never fallen in love with you. I should’ve known you would do this. You are the biggest piece of shit in all mankind. You’re pathetic Mark Tuan. You know what? Fuck you. I hope you had fun wasting my time. I never want to see your face ever again.” You stormed out of the cafeteria and ran as fast as you could. You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get the hell out of there before people started to come up to you. Before you could open your locker, you felt somebody tug at your wrist and thinking it was Mark, you roughly pushed the person away until you heard him softly call out your name.

“Y/n, hey. It’s me. Come on, let’s go home.” Jinyoung grabbed your things and reached for your hand. However, it was apparent that you had no energy to walk, so he bent down in order for you to climb on to his shoulders. In most situations, you would decline his offer to carry you. However, Jinyoung knew you better than anyone else. Your mind wasn’t completely there and he knew your heart was broken. He was afraid he wouldn’t be enough to fix it.

He just so happened to be in the cafeteria when the confrontation happened and as much as he wanted to beat the shit out of Mark for publicly humiliating you, you were his main focus in that moment. He carried you to his car and placed you in the passenger seat. You felt empty, as if all the life was sucked out of you completely. Mark said those words so easily, as if he meant every single one of them. You should’ve left when he told you to, but it was better that you didn’t. You got to see his true colors; got to see what his priorities were and you obviously weren’t one of them.

Once Jinyoung parked, he walked over to your side and picked you up bridal style before carrying you up to your apartment. As soon as the two of you entered, he brought you in to his room and lied you on his bed before joining you and pulling you in to his embrace. He didn’t want to say anything, he was going to wait for you to react before doing anything. When you began to cry, Jinyoung was sure his heart was breaking with every sob. If there was anything Park Jinyoung hated; other than Mark Tuan and his stupid group of friends, it was seeing you cry. Being friends with you for years allowed Jinyoung to see it all. The good, the bad and the ugly. However, this was by far the worst thing that had ever happened to you. All he could do was run his fingers through your hair and gently rub your back in order to calm you down.

After a good hour of crying in to his chest, your breathing became steady and you looked up at Jinyoung with the saddest smile on your face.

“Say it.” He looked down at you and frowned. 

“Say what?” You shrugged. 

“I told you so. I should’ve listened to you. You’re always right. I don’t know why I thought this situation was any different. I’m so fucking stupid.” He was quick to shake his head in disagreement before gently pinching your cheek.

“You’re not stupid. He said all the right things that made you fall for him. Hell, I even fell for his act. He seemed to have genuinely cared about you y/n and I don’t doubt that he does. He just made the wrong decision and now he’s going to pay for it. But please don’t be so hard on yourself. If anyone is stupid, it’s your dumb ass ex boyfriend. He just lost the best thing that’s ever happened to him and for what? His playboy reputation? Friends who obviously could give less of a shit about him? Girls who could never hold a candle to you? What a fucking piece of shit. I’m gonna kill him, I’m telling you. Nobody hurts my girl and gets away with it.”

You looked up at him and softly pecked his cheek. “I feel like shit. It’s as if he ripped my heart from out of my chest and stepped on it countless times. Am I really that worthless and pathetic like he said I am Jinyoung? Is that all I’m really good for? A one night stand? Am I not worthy of being loved by someone? Everything he said to me was a lie. I hate him. I never want to see or talk to him ever again.” Your best friend frowned before pulling you closer to his chest. He hated hearing you talk so negatively about yourself. You were the most beautiful human being to exist. You deserved the world and more. Why would Mark throw away everything that happened between the two of you just to seem high and mighty to his friends? You couldn’t process it.

Jinyoung knew that he had to do something in order to get back at Mark; he just didn’t know what he could do without getting in to too much trouble. A black eye was too easy; Jackson’s healed up in a few days. He wanted to hit Mark where it hurts; and that’s when an idea popped in to his head. But he was going to give you a few days to rest and recover before telling you of his plans. After all the crying and stress you went through, you found yourself falling asleep pretty quickly. Jinyoung took this time to admire you and wished that you would bounce back from this. Nobody deserved heartbreak, especially not you. You were always so quick to put others before yourself and Jinyoung was aware that you put Mark on such a high pedestal. Which is why he knew his idea would practically ruin Mark and he could only hope that you’d want to go along with it.

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed, but you noticed you were changed in to one of Jinyoung’s shirts. You smiled at the realization, he must’ve helped you change right before he left. It didn’t take you long to notice the letter on his desk explaining that he went to school and left breakfast for you on the stove. He also prepared some of your favorite movies and a few bottles of alcohol for when you were in the mood. You slowly made your way in to the bathroom and sarcastically laughed when you saw how horrible you looked. Why did you allow such a stupid boy to do this to you? As much as you wanted to avoid looking at your phone in case Mark tried to get in touch with you, you wanted to thank Jinyoung for taking care of you.

A part of you was worried of what he was capable of doing to Mark at school, especially since you wouldn’t be there, but you didn’t care. He broke your heart, so you wouldn’t mind if Jinyoung broke his face. You weren’t surprised when you saw the 32 text messages 19 missed calls and 12 voicemails all from Mark, but you just weren’t ready to read or listen to any of them. You just wanted to get drunk and sleep the day away. As you were twenty minutes in to watching Friends, the knock on your door got your attention.

“Y/n, we need to talk. Open up. I know you’re in there.” Hearing his voice after only 24 hours brought so many feelings to you. Anger. Hurt. Pain. Humiliation. However; it only made you realize how much you missed him and how much you still loved him. Even after what he put you through, you weren’t going to lose feelings for him overnight. But what good would it do if you were to open the door? If anything, you’d be making a big mistake if you were to let him in. Letting him in to your apartment meant letting him back in to your life and there was no way you could forgive him as of right now.

“Y/n please. I can explain. I made a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. You know I didn’t mean anything I said. I know you know I love you with every fiber of my pathetic being. Fuck baby, I’m so fucking sorry. Please open up. You need to know I’m not the one who started telling people that we hooked up. I don’t know how he got my phone, but Jackson read our text messages and opened his big ass mouth. Please open up. I need to see you. I’m nothing without you. Please.” His voice cracked when he said the last few sentences and you were sure it broke your heart even more if that was possible. Your heart begged for you to open the door, but your mind stood it’s ground.

You called Jinyoung and let him know Mark was outside and that you didn’t know what to do. He told you to stay put and to not allow him in. You knew exactly what would happen if you allowed him inside. Plus, you had nothing to say. This man used you, broke you and acted as if you were nothing. Silly you for believing you could be the one who could change his ways. He continued to knock and cry for what felt like hours until you heard another voice outside. Jinyoung was home and you couldn’t be more happier.

You heard him telling Mark to leave and threatening him to call the cops in which Mark was quick to retaliate. You knew Mark wasn’t going to leave without seeing you, so with the tiny amount of courage and strength you had left, you opened the door and pulled Jinyoung inside.

“Go Mark. I meant it when I said I never want to see you again.” The tears welling up in his eyes and his broken expression made you tear up yourself, but the tight grip on your waist prevented you from doing anything you’d regret.

“Please..hear me out y/n. I can’t lose you.” You sent a chilling glare in his direction.

“You already lost me when you decided I wasn’t as important to you as your fucking ego. Now get out of here before I scream.” He looked as if he was crying all night. His eyes were extremely red and his cheeks were puffy; but you didn’t care. He deserved it. Jinyoung slammed the door in his face before pulling you in to his chest.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come home sooner. How are you feeling?” You began to cry in his chest again and he gave you a couple of minutes to let it all out before bringing you back in to his room. It seemed as if all you were capable of was crying. Jinyoung sighed when he saw the food still out on the counter, he was completely aware that you had no appetite. But he knew there was only one type of food you would eat no matter how upset you were. When he got up from the bed and made his way outside, you let out a small whine but you were still too numb to get up and see where he went.

Just a few minutes later, he came back with a container of ice cream and a glass of wine. You smiled tiredly at him before he handed you the tub and made space for him on the bed. To your surprise, he picked you up and pulled you on to his lap, taking the tub of ice cream in his hands and began to feed you.

“You’re gonna be okay y/n. Remember your worth. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.” Two weeks past since that horrible incident and although you weren’t completely yourself just yet, you finally got up from Jinyoung’s bed and actually went back to school. You blocked Mark’s number completely and deleted him on all of your social media. Since you only had two classes on campus, you were quick to leave before risking the chance of bumping in to him and his stupid friends. You slowly got back in to things and you were sure it had a lot to do with your best friend.

A week after Mark came to your apartment, Jinyoung had told you of the idea he came up with to get back at Mark and although you were hesitant and didn’t like the thought of using Jinyoung, you knew that seeing the two of you together as a couple would ruin Mark. There were times that Mark would come over while Jinyoung was home and Jinyoung would jokingly touch you in order to mess around with the older boy. Everyone and their mothers knew how jealous Mark was of your best friend and you decided that this was a great plan to get back at him with. However, you were sure Mark was already moved on. He could get any girl he wanted. You wouldn’t be surprised if he added more girls to his body count and you rolled your eyes at the thought.

“You know y/n, instead of fake dating, we could film a sex tape and send it to him. Or even lure him in to coming here and walk in on us having sex—“ you threw a pillow at him and released a sigh.

“The second option doesn’t sound too bad, but I want the whole school to know about us and there’s no way I’m sending our sex tape around campus.” He shrugged, but the thought of having sex with Jinyoung brought a blush to your cheeks. In the last two weeks, you found yourself looking at Jinyoung in a different light. You didn’t know if it was because you were still so vulnerable or because you missed being loved on. But you were sure it also had to deal with the fact that Jinyoung took such good care of you. He tended to your every need, made sure you were eating your meals and getting your work done. He made you feel wanted, made you feel like the only girl in the world. He made you feel things not even Mark could.

Jinyoung wanted you to get rid of the thought of Mark completely. Which is why he was so willing to do this for you, even if it meant developing feelings for you and getting hurt in the end. Finally the day came where Jinyoung’s plan would be put in to action. The two of you made your way to school and once you got out of the car, he was quick to intertwine your hands together and took your bag from you.

“Ready babe?” You giggled at the pet name before nodding. People who knew the two of you were aware that you were friends, but when some of the students saw the two of you holding hands, you didn’t fail to notice them whispering while the two of you began to walk. You went about your day as if nothing happened, but news spread around your school like wildfire. You didn’t think people even knew who you were, but after what happened between you and Mark just a few weeks ago, everyone seemed to know your name. You could only hope that Mark got word of your newly formed relationship. When lunchtime finally came around, Jinyoung picked you up from your class and reached for your hand.

“Show time.” You tried your best to ignore the stares, but it seemed as everyone in school was completely aware of your situation. When you walked in to the cafeteria, you tried not to make it obvious that you were looking for Mark, and released a sigh of relief when Jinyoung whispered that he was there. He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before having you sit down so that he could grab something for the two of you to eat. You decided to go on your phone for the time being and waited for Jinyoung to arrive back to your table. When he finally came back, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips before handing you your food. The two of you should’ve really practiced the night before, you weren’t quite used to feeling his lips on yours. His lips felt foreign but you weren’t going to lie, you liked it. He wasn’t rough nor as passionate as Mark was, but you knew it was because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I always liked it when you wore my clothes. You look cute.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you shoved a piece of watermelon in his mouth. Jinyoung discreetly took a look at Mark’s table and let you know that Mark was fuming. You took a look for yourself and playfully bit your lip as you leaned forward and placed a long, sloppy kiss on the corner of Jinyoung’s mouth. To your dismay, you saw a figure making their way toward the two of you in your peripheral vision and prepared yourself just in case it was Mark. However, when you saw it was Jackson, you released a sigh of relief.

“Wow, who would’ve known. The two of you? I honestly didn’t see it coming. Jinyoung here has been following you like a lost puppy for years now. Are you finding comfort in your best friend since Mark doesn’t fuck the same pussy twice?” Jinyoung quickly stood up and hovered over the arrogant boy.

“You want another black eye again don’t you? Punk shit.” You gripped at Jinyoung’s bicep before motioning for him to sit down. You got up and made your way towards Jackson and turned in the direction of Mark’s table.

“Mark didn’t tell you guys did he? We were dating, for the last six months. When he wasn’t busy sucking on your dicks, he was with me. He had to wait five months for me. Do you really think, with that tiny brain of yours that he would’ve waited around for me for that long if I was nothing but a simple fuck to him? You and your entire group of friends are capable of nothing but sex and from what I’ve heard through the grapevine, everything about you is short and underperforming.” You heard Jinyoung quietly chuckle behind you and the angry look on Jackson’s face only fueled you to piss him off some more.

“Yes, Jinyoung and I are dating. It took a really shitty relationship with Mark and underwhelming sex to realize my worth and what I deserve. I deserve someone who loves me and cares for me the way Jinyoung does. And someone who actually can get me to come. By the way, I’ve only slept with two guys and Park Jinyoung is by far the best sex I’ve ever had. Now if you excuse me, I’d like to enjoy lunch with my boyfriend in peace. And tell your friend over there to stop trying to contact me, my phone company keeps complaining about his nonstop calls and texts. Let him know that I’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Literally.”

Jackson’s mouth was hung low and he couldn’t do anything but just stare at you in disbelief. When you realized he was still standing there, you wrapped your arms around Jinyoung’s neck and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. You then turned around to face Mark and blew him a kiss while winking. With the way his jaw was tightened and his fists were clenched, you knew you got to him and it felt great.

Jinyoung looked at you with so much confusion yet confidence and he let you know that he was extremely proud of you for standing up for yourself. “So, shall we go home now and I can show you how big I actually am?” You coughed up some of your water before playfully slapping his arm. “Take me on a date first Park Jinyoung, then we’ll see how it goes from there.”

If I am just a piece of cake (cake) Then, you're just a piece of meat You're just a piece of meat to me

[philosophicusabicus]

Diaries in the Loony Bin

The Loony Bin is a group of individuals who could be called “friends”, but maybe that’s too suggestive. At any rate, this group has a diverse set of opinions on politics and sports, with voices across the political spectrum and through many sports. The intersection of politics and sports, in contemporary society, is met with disdain; however, the members of the Loony Bin seek to make it an acceptable space of discourse. Every week, when the asylum isn’t particularly chaotic (there can be no promises as to consistency of date), an entry will be posted, documenting the developments of thought and culture within these walls. Where many see lunacy as a vice, it is seen as a virtue here. The diary herein is will capture all of the voices of this group, but it will use only one narrator, striking many different chords and tones. Topics will change with rapidity, so be always on edge. Though, nothing will get too toxic, as most topics will be treated rather lightly, aiming at parody. We’re in the Loony Bin after all.

Entry #1:

Where saner minds prevail in the Loony Bin, there is the same old chatter about Brady; about how the Bucs will repeat; about the prospects of Tampa’s young roster. But, in the deeper corners of the Loony establishment, there are whispers of a new team in town — a team in the same conference which has been biding its time of late. The St. Louis R… Los Angeles Rams. This team has the defense of a Trump supporter pressed about another investigation; and they have Stafford now, who can be a completely average version of himself and still be better than Goff. They made the playoffs last year with the latter under the gun: by trusted and tried Loony bin logic, there is no world where they don’t fare better this year.

Alas, as we approach the eve of the NBA Finals, we would be remiss not to reflect on the curious outcomes of the playoffs we have just witnessed. The Suns are on the cusp of their first finals in 28 years, walking over a series of teams who were hobbled to their bones. 1st round against LAL, practically no AD. 2nd round against Denver, no Murray. 3rd round against LAC, no Kawhi.

Is anyone else seeing a curious trend here?

This is like the string of upsets that led to the election of Biden in 2020 — think Georgia, Michigan, and Arizona, among others. Speaking of Biden, nobody can say they’re overly happy with what he’s accomplished in his term so far, but then again many are still aboard the “anything is better than Trump” bandwagon. So that mass is just easy to please.

I have a story to relate. A guard patrolling the halls on a foggy evening last month overheard in a ward unit a patient on a delirious soliloquy. Ranting and raving was usual for this patient deep into the night, but this rave, this was different. “Trump’s rhetoric.. his mannerisms.. his behavior.. it is unfit for the Presidency. Nothing need be pinned on him from a legal standpoint for it to follow that he does not meet the standards of the Chief Representative of the United States. If you were to quantify the number of immoral exhibits he has demonstrated, however insignificant, they would add up to a hefty sum: a demeaning and vicious personality. A personality unfit for such a high position. If we have to pick political poison, let’s pick the lesser of the poisons.” The guard began to hear an uncorking of caps, a sloshing of potions, and a loud thump of a corpse, crashing to the floor.

There was a rampant disease going around the property, from hall to hall, greensward to greensward. Its many and various symptoms included: involuntary association with Big Tech, amnesia about mortgage loans and student debt; anxiety related to pressures of the labor and financial markets; headache and fever regarding quality of romantic life; and a strong preoccupation with taking selfies.

The Bin was in lockdown and every non-faculty member had to isolate in their respective wards. Hence, if the patients were to communicate to each other, a new way medium had to be contrived: they call it “Loonygram”.

As I understand it, though admittedly I understand it very little, one performs some kind of slippery action to facilitate the correspondence between users. From what I have gathered though, it has little chance of success without being a certified maniac. Many prefer the pleasure they derive from their own babbling monologues.

While a doctor was trying to rationalize his patient one day he got carried away on a sermon of his own: “Why the fuss over kneeling anyway? Just because some action affronts a symbol you respect, doesn’t mean the intention was to disrespect that symbol. Differentiating actions and their outcomes from intentions goes a long way out there. There was no intent to disrespect what that American symbolism; that was just a byproduct of an effort trying to gain respect for another symbol: social equality”

The patient, strapped to their chair looks helplessly up at the doctor and asks “So… that helps me in here how?”.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t. Look, it aint all rational out there either, if you catch my drift”.

The patient scrunched his eyes circumspectly at the doctor before his attention was drawn to a fly buzzing on the adjacent wall.

These are curious times within these walls. An episode occurred on the Loony grounds one morning in which one patient wandered over to another, unprovoked, and yelled “my team is winning it all this year!”. The other patient, startled, replied “w..who is your team?” “w..what sport is this even?”

“I am at liberty to express myself; I have the first amendment behind me after all!” cried the provocative patient.

“Indeed, you do. But only where it doesn’t infringe on the freedoms of others” observed the second patient.

“And at what point is that?” jeered the first patient.

“Frankly, I’m not altogether sure. But let’s come to this decision mutually before you spam me with your raptures about the Yankees. Your favorite team is the Yankees, ya?

“How could you possibly.. know?”

“I saw you in the cafeteria last October, forking your pork chops like a feral animal; not long after Gleyber struck out for the 5th time that night either; I saw it in your eyes.”

How that altercation ended remains to be seen, since I merely borrowed it from the journal of another author, who has been missing ever since.

In other rumors, it is with great pain and sympathy that I report an exorcism which took place some time ago in the health dormitory on the fifth floor, all dust and eerie. The patient was being consumed by the demons of his loyalty to the Cowboys.

The pastor on hand, tending to his duties as exorcist, was on the verge of performing his most solemn task, when the possessed man said, as he foamed at the mouth “Elliot… Elliot”

“Excuse me? Elliot? What… Elliot’s going to be the most overrated running back in the league? I’m with you there” laughed the pastor, stuffing a hankerchief in the man’s mouth to muffle his screams.

“Dak. Dak. Dak. Back”

“Dak or not, there is a constant with the Cowboys. At the end of every regular season, they’re barely scratching playoffs.” applying the shock therapy he was taught in his vocational school.

“D..depth a..and.. youth.. a..at receiver” coughs the patient as he loses consciousness for the final time.

“Death and youth make a believer? That’s some sound philosophy my man. You’re impressionable when you’re young so that makes sense, and you live with more respect and appreciation for life as you get old and nearer to death. Truly well spoken”

“This one is one of the better cases, Mary” the doctor says as his assistant walks through the doors.

Tensions are up to a fever pitch these days. Just yesterday, two psychiatrists were shoving each other over whether the condition of the patients is binary or not.

“Their conditions are binary!? That is a very limiting way to view things. If the patient does not want to identify their condition as “sick”, and feels like they want to be labeled ‘sort of sick I suppose’, then the more power to them.”

“No, that is infeasible. If we do not have a clear threshold for their condition, then how can we administer their treatments? At what point? It would be arbitrary.”

“There is no essence of “sickness”; you can’t just define it in any terms you want, just so that it aids your goals; besides, they’re not really sick, sort of.” The insane man, lying on the bed for the entire course of the conversation, just looked blankly and confusedly at his doctors, thinking “so the stories you hear on the outside are true, these people really are Loony huh?”

Some disturbance is happening on the floor below me now, so I must close this entry and I will write another day…