#I'm trying to find logic here where there's none

[izzys-tummyache]

It's interesting to me when people who dislike stizzy take particular issue with the aspect of Izzy teaching Stede practical skills - and then ship Ed and Stede. A big part of the edstede dynamic in s1 was that Ed and Stede agree to teach one another, and we all understand why it's cute for them to flirt during a practice duel, but when Stede and Izzy do the same thing it's... bad?

For me when that dynamic was dropped and picked up by stizzy, I ended up getting more into stizzy. "Two different people find they have a lot to learn from each other" is a pretty basic recipe for a relationship to develop, and if you get why it's appealing in one ship, surely you can get why it's appealing in another.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: he isn't yours so why do you get so jealous?

⊱✿⊰ warnings: jealously, you're possessive but sal likes it, he doesn't believe anyone would love him :( cringy confession; reader is a dork i fear (she is me)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i heard this song and had this daydream and was like dang this would be a fire fanfic so here we are. ALSO WHERE ARE ALL THE SALLY FACE FANS LIKE I WRITE FOR IT GUYS NOTICE ME ahem anyway

⊱✿⊰ taglist: @fashionablysouly @kozumesphone

You had a secret: you were excruciatingly and agonizingly in love with your best friend, Sal Fisher. Okay so maybe it wasn't a secret to anyone except for Sal himself but it was still something you would rather die before Sal found out. He definitely didn't see you that way and he would probably reject you immediately if he found out. So it was safer to just not say anything.

He didn't need to know about the nights spent screaming into your pillow or crying in Ashley's arms over how sickeningly giddy his voice made you. He didn't need to know how easily he made your heart beat like you ran a marathon or how easily he made you feel like your head was in the clouds.

However that led to dilemmas such as the one you found yourself in currently. You were probably the most aware of Sal'a attractive but unfortunately, you were not the only one to notice it. So it was common as was happening right then, to find a girl start talking his ear off obviously trying to flirt with him.

"You're so funny, Sallyy," The girl giggled, sitting across from Sal at the cafeteria table. You tried to stop your glare from settling into your face but it was far too late, jealousy was disease that affected you quickly and viciously.

She was beautiful with tanned skin and soft lips, she was perfect and far more in the league of someone as incredible of Sal. But no, she doesn't deserve Sal. She doesn't know him like you do, she doesn't ache in her bones at the thought of being near him. She can't have him.

"You might as well leave." Larry commented to her, seeming far to amused as he glanced at you. You felt self conscious and tried to relax your face from the deadly look you had been casting on that girl. He continued, "[Name] is far too jealous to let you stay for much longer."

Murder should be legal, you quickly decided as you shot a look at Larry that made him well aware he would not be living for much longer. Why the hell would he say that? In front of Sal too?

Did he want you to die of heartbreak? Surely Larry fucking Johnson was praying on your downfall because there is no other logical reason for him to have done that. Unless he has a death wish.

"[Name] isn't dating Sal. Isn't that right, honey?" The girl replied, placing her hand over top Sal'`. That was when you snapped; how dare she touch Sal?

Before you could fully process thinking you grabbed her wrist and yanked it away from Sal. You looked at her, trying to cool the inferno of anger in your gaze as you said, "That boy is mine. Touch him again and I break all of your bones."

The girl let out a whimper and quickly rushed away, leaving a majority of the lunch room's eyes on you. You sunk into your seat, far too afraid to glance at the blue haired boy beside you. You were beyond embarrassed by your possessiveness, who were you to say he was yours?

Larry and Ashley were absolutely cackling, way too amused to see this side of you publicly outed to the boy you loved with your entire soul. Sal turned to look at you, his prosthetic hiding any hint of emotion you could have gotten.

"I'm yours?" He asked, his voice making your tummy rumble and roll. Even his voice was attractive, it physically wasn't fair to exist beside him and not have him to kiss and hold.

"Have you really not noticed, Sally?" Ashley asked, nudging you on the shoulder. You bit the inside of your cheek, preferring none of this to happen. Why did your feelings have to come out this way?

Sal made a confused noise but you grabbed his arm, and said, "Can I talk to you alone?" He nodded and let you lead him away from the lingering stares, into the hallway which was far more empty.

"What's up with you?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt his gaze on your face, making it warm even more. Although that didn't seem quite possible with how feverish every inch of your skin felt. You looked down at your shoes, trying to stall the confession.

"I don't want you dating anyone." You said finally, jealously arising yet again as you remember that girl flirting with Sal. He let out a huff of confusion, his eyes still directly on you. Crap, you had to explain more.

"Seeing those girls flirt with you or hearing them make those vile comments about the things they want to do to you. It makes me so angry, it isn't fair. I don't want you dating anyone except for me. I want you to be my boyfriend." You ranted, feeling your blood boil as you remember all the times you had gotten jealous.

When Sal froze, you realized what you said. Oh no no no, he is going to reject you and never talk to you again. If only there was a self destruct button on your body you could press in this moment.

He kept staring at you, making you wish you could see beneath his mask to have a guess at how he was feeling. How disgusted he might be at your ridiculous feelings for him.

"why do you like....me?" He finally asked, sounding shocked that you could have feelings for him. Your gaze shot back up to meet his, and you saw the surprise (and dare you say, happiness?) in his eye.

"Why wouldn't I like you, Sal? You're so amazing and god I love you so much I think I've gone insane." You replied, feeling almost breathless with this string of honesty. His body finally relaxed and you could almost sense the smile beneath his mask.

"I love you too, [Name.]" Sal replies quietly, "Can I be your boyfriend?"

You felt your lips part with surprise, not believing your ears. Sal must have noticed your shock because he laughed and leaned closer, interlacing your hand with his deliciously cold fingers.

"Yes, you can be my boyfriend." You said, rambling slightly. You must've been injected with a dose of caffeine because you kissed his mask right where his lips lay under. Then you ran away, giggling like a lunatic. You stopped in a hallway, feeling flushed and faint and giddy and ridiculous.

Finally that boy truly was yours.

[leftneb]

There is Something Seriously Wrong with this Logo..... Chapter Two

So. Lots of you have seen this post by my dear partner ( @lailau7904 ) in which the Williams F1 design team get absolutely torn to bits. In the case you haven't read it yet I highly recommend you do because a) it's really fucking funny and b) it makes what I'm about to tell you even funnier. Though you don't have to, this post touches on entirely different things still regarding this one goddamn logo.

The original post starts like this:

Innocent enough, we made an assumption in good faith that the logo displayed on the Wikipedia page would be the same one as the official version used by Williams. Buckle the fuck up because I'm about to tell you why that was the worst mistake we could have made.

Please. Please I beg of you keep reading this took YEARS off our lifespans. Like the original post was fun and all but it was merely the top of the iceberg. If this were an hbomberguy video this would be the part where he reveals that the background was a greenscreen the whole time. More below the cut!!! :333

The Truth

Already after only a few hours after hitting "post" on the dissection, people started pointing out to us that we'd missed an absolutely crucial detail on the Wikimedia page we got the logo from, pay careful attention:

See THIS?

Yeah this means that that image is not, and never was, the official logo of Williams. All along it had been the work of a Wikipedia user by the name of Juanchocarbonero. Here you can even see the (admittedly painful) history of the file as provided by Wikimedia, this image was uploaded all the way back in 2016, it even underwent an update when the team changed their colour scheme to a lighter blue without getting fucking fixed.

But to me the absolutely most painful part about this page is the "File Usage" section. Which gives you a quick preview of just how deep the goddamn disease that is this piece of graphic design sin really spreads.

And just to clarify: the official version of the logo used by Williams on merch etc is perfectly fine. It's a nice piece of graphic design. I still quite like it. But the story doesn't end there. Not even close.

Consequences

When you look up "williams logo" on Google the image provided by Wikimedia the very first result that pops up, if you're looking for a high-quality .png of this logo that, logically, is what you'll end up using. And I mean, why wouldn't you? What reason do you have not to use it? As long as you don't look to close (oops) it's a perfectly fine, high-definition, clean and transparent image of the logo! No shit people are going to use it!

But this raises a question: Why IS it the most widespread version of the logo? That's fucking weird isn't it? Surely if the actual logo used on ex.: the official Williams F1 website (which, again, is perfectly fucking fine) was available they would've just used that, right?

Now. Small problem. If you want you can go ahead and open whatever search engine you use, if you do that I'm gonna need you to type in "Williams logo" into the search bar, and just try finding a picture that is

of the actual official logo (you can tell the bootleg from the real thing by checking if the middle segment of the W has spiky ends or flat ones. We're looking for flat ones here)

high quality (no pixels or blurring visible to the naked eye)

a transparent png (none of that chequered background bullshit)

NOT a logo with any words (such as: Williams or Racing) visible in it. those don't count.

If you didn't feel like doing any of that, I'll just tell you the answer: you fucking can't. Nothing like that EXISTS. The closest I could get are these two, both of which are mid to ass quality, so they don't count either.

No sensible individual is going to scroll google search results for 5 minutes straight just so they can use a 200x200 image, especially when they think a perfect alternative is right there.

I even found several recoloured versions of the diseased logo, including one as a sticker on Redbubble! Fuck me that's a horrible sight!

The Search

Because I wrote the previous paragrahps after we'd figured out exactly what had happened, you might be under the impression that by this point in trying to answer the question "Why the fuck is that image on Wikipedia instead of, idk, the real fucking thing?" we'd at least established the existence of said "real Williams F1 logo". You'd be wrong, because for somewhere around 24 hours after we'd made the initial, horrifying discovery of just how fucked the Wikipedia version is, we genuinely could not tell if that was the official logo or not.

The ones displayed on their website weren't at all downloadable or even copyable, a non-ass quality of the damn thing just didn't seem to exist anywhere, so we didn't dare draw any conclusions. And we were still foolishly operating on the assumption that Wikipedia wouldn't just lie to us. (this is why your teachers hate it when you use it a source btw. like this is the ONE time it's actually been reasonable)

So, in the hopes of finding the offical Williams Racing logo, the non-scuffed one because clearly it exists, somewhere, we consulted an expert on Intellectual Property: my mother!

What this "consultation" actually roughly looked like was: we went on a walk and I started rambling about the Situation from Last Night before she cut me off and pulled up the website of the World Intellectual Property Organisation, aka the place they store all the Copyright information of like, everything.

BEHOLD:

(pictured; THE ACTUAL FUCKING LOGO I CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S EXISTED THIS WHOLE TIME)

Link to the actual real official legal document because goddamn this rabbithole just kept getting deeper so I like, have that now.

For refence, here is the official copyrighted version and the Wikimedia file overlayed on top of each other. As you can tell, it's disgusting. It's a poor, eyeballed imitation at best.

The copyrighted logo is horrifically low quality because, guess what, that image also isn't downloadable or copyable from the page. I really really cannot blame Juanchocarbonero for uploading his own version to Wikimedia because there legitimately does not exist a version of this logo that is freely available to the public. Like that goddamn abomiation is all we have. It's the effort that counts I guess.

My mother suggested that a possible reason for this could be avoiding the production of knockoff merch, or at least making it recognisable in case it is sold. Think about it, when your logo Doesn't Exist online, no one can use it without a license! It's kind of genius! I'm also about 99% sure they didn't orchestrate it so, it was good luck I guess?

interlude: How the FUCK does Copyright even work

I did immediately think to myself "we should REALLY fix the wikipedia version, like, stat" because I cannot in good conscience have this information available to me and not do anything with it, for the good of the people. However, this poses an issue: was the logo really not scuffed on purpose? Could it be that that version uploaded to Wikipedia isn't a 1:1 of the official logo because of copyrighting issues? To find out I had to look deeper, by comparing the official, website-available logos of various other F1 teams I came to conclusion that: [........................]

Yeah so I wrote that paragraph before actually checking for refences, but even after probably an hour of trying very hard to make sense of the copyright documents and copyright law in general we could not make sense of any of it. According to my mother (again, the closest we have to an expert, like she actually works with copyright in the context of companies but she's not specifically an IP expert. just to clarify) it's actually a lot worse for Wikipedia to have a falsified version of the Williams logo, than it would be to use the copyrighted version. This is because they're spreading misinformation by pretending that's the actual logo. And yet.

According to the Copyright Tag (the one on the top) in the Licensing section of the Wikimedia page for the thing pretending to be the Williams F1 logo, it's fine to use it because just a bunch of shapes. The thing is however, that it says that for pretty much every F1 team's logo, most of which are sourced straight from the official website. So this doesn't really mean anything tbh. According to our local expert (still my mother) it's fucking confusing. So I've decided to leave that at that.

update October 20th: as far as the Wikimedia pages on copyrighting tell me, uploading the official logo could, potentially, get me into serious legal trouble with Williams because of copyright laws. Which is still confusing because as said, every other team's logo is sitting uncontested on their respective Wikipedia pages. So basically we still don't know.

Okay. Backtrack. We forgot to ask something very important:

HOW?

HOW does one fuck up a perfectly fine logo THAT BAD.

WHY does one make their own scuffed tracejob and HOW does it end up like THAT. Clearly something must have gone horrifically wrong for it to end up like that.

I have a theory as to what might have happened:

It was either drawn or painted by hand, for a physical paintjob it's actually sort of impressively precise, but still objectively fucked. For a while I outright refused to believe that it could have been done in a digital program with the types of mistakes that were made, but you'll see this theory (partially) disproven later on so I retract it for now.

Operating on the assumption that it wasn't done digitally, a likely theory could be one involving a picture of scan of the paintjob. If the picture was taken at an angle or the logo itself was on a curved surface that COULD potentially explain the weird sort of slide everything has to it.

From then the picture might have been inserted into a digital art program, and the area of the logo might have been automatically selected using the magic wand tool, which could explain the weird growth at the top and that odd rounded off corner.

We also drew the conclusion that the file itself had been "tampered with" (aka cropped manually) by a human, because no computer would generate a resolution of 3356x2543 (you can that this is the original resolution on the Wikimedia page)

WAIT HOLD ON IS THAT IT?

The question of how the Fuck this guy managed to mess up the logo, and even more specifically why some edges were fine and some weren't (ant colony looking thing on the top left) bothered us so much that I at one point started just looking up "WIlliams logo" with the results filtered down to pre-2017 in an attempt to find when exactly the messed up logo was created. As if that would be any help.

Now what I definitely didn't expect to find was THIS

ENHANCE

Yes, you're seeing it right, THAT is the original 'Williams logo with the fucked up arm angles and lenghts'. Which PROVES that, contrary to our previous belief, Juancocarbonero was NOT the origin of the mistakes. Instead it was [checks notes] a DeviantArt user by the name of Nerdkid56?

The original DeviantArt post, which as of 9:47pm CET on the 13th of October 2024 I am about 90% sure is the actual first appearanace of the scuffed logo, is from May of 2015, which lines up well with the original upload date of the fucked up logo onto Wikipedia (November 2016). At the time that DeviantArt post was almost the only source for the logo.

And in the case you needed any convincing that those two logos are the same, here they are overlayed. You may notice that it's one shape (excluding the rounded corner which isn't visible at this resolution.)

This discovery is essential to understanding why the current scuffed version is the way it is. You might remember our confusion about the way some edges are fine while some are attempting to leave the image, the whole thing is a weird Frankensteinian amalgamation of vectors and magic wand mistakes. With this knowledge we can now assume that the mistakes happened in 2 layers:

Nerdkid56: likely just eyeballed the proportions. I'd guess he drew one arm before the other and flipped it around without really checking the angles. Also didn't give a shit about whether the arms lined up with the base or not. Legitimately bad design made in a digital program.

Juancocarbonero: why he used the scuffed W logo instead of the normal ones that were also perfectly accessible by 1 goddamn Google search is a mistery. HOW he even got access to it is another question I do not think we'll have answers to. And I've already explained some of the things we think may be responsible for the uneveness and bumps. Point is he fucked it up even more.

My theory for why Juanchocarbonero used the scuffed version instead of any other available picture goes like this: it was the only png he could find. Practically every other search result for "Williams Logo" that predates 2017 is a jpeg or absolute ass quality (sometimes both for good measure) so, despite it's flaws, Nedkid56's trace of it could have been the best option available at the time (the quality is actually very very good since it's a vector image, and I guess our friend Juanchocarbonero doesn't have an eye for design considering he didn't notice uhm, everything that is wrong with that model.)

Conclusion

The only way to right these wrongs is to go back, to the very beggining of this saga. Wikipedia. Williams I'm so sorry for what you've had to endure. I know what I have to do now. When I eventually make a proper vector image of the official logo and upload it to Wikimedia it'll all be over. And I WILL do it (but not rn this has already robbed me of like 3 whole days of my life. soon)

All of this is, admittedly inconsequental, but also absolutely fucking hilarious. Like imagine. you. one single guy, you make ONE mistake in a silly little "tracing this logo" project because you couldn't be arsed to check the angles of a silly little W. And some other guy, who you likely don't even know, over a whole ass year later, takes your flawed piece of design, makes it even worse somehow and uploads it to a site from which your little tiny innocent mistake becomes the most widespread version of a logo used by an actual real company worth over 700 Million US Dollars. HOW. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN. WHY HAS NO ONE FIXED THIS??? IT'S BEEN 9 YEARS

Just to give you a final look on just how widespread this plague is, here are some examples of media the fucked up version of the logo is featured in:

this Mr V's Garage video (the original reason we started this conversation in the first place)

the thumbnails of these two videos by Tommo, this one by FP1Will, and this one by RicksF1Addiction

such an amount of random places. likely fanmerch and fanart, and like, pretty much any place someone wanted to use the logo. it's everywhere. if you've ever had the Williams logo displayed in anything you've made I can guarantee you 99.9% chance you used the fucked version

and late thank you to everyone ( @bumblewyn @mid-nighttiger @vro0m @lemonsgovroom @mikraas @leclerced fucking hell I kept needing to add people to this list because compiling all of this took absurdly long) who pointed out our misconception in the reblogs of the original post and contributed to us actually looking into this further. and sorry to everyone for accidentally spreading misinformation lmao (it's too funny not to have been worth it tho) (ALSO it's not really our fault is it)

and to keep the tradition of ending on a live discord reaction:

[justforjobe]

THIN LINE , j.bellingham

──one shot

pairing ➜ jobe x fem!reader

word count ➜ 2.8k

warnings/notes ➜ angst.

summary ➜ what happens when the kisses start feeling too real, when the touches linger a little too long? are friends with benefits ever just that?

you're sitting on the edge of jobe's bed, your legs dangling off the side, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, trying to keep your breathing steady.

you've been here a million times before, in this room, on this bed, with him. the routine is familiar, almost comforting in the way it's just so predictable—the way he texts you late at night, the way you show up, the way things just happen between you two.

but tonight, something feels different, heavier, like there's an unspoken tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke on.

you can feel his eyes on you, watching you with that quiet intensity he always has, and it's enough to make your skin tingle, your heart beat a little faster. but you don't dare look at him, not yet, because you know that if you do, if you meet his gaze, you'll lose whatever fragile hold you have on your emotions right now.

he's sitting across from you, on the other side of the bed, his back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. his shirt is off, discarded somewhere on the floor, and you can see the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, steady, calm. you wish you could say the same for yourself, but your mind is racing, a thousand thoughts all colliding at once, none of them making any sense.

this was supposed to be simple.

it was supposed to be easy.

you and jobe, no strings, no complications, just... fun. and it was, at first. you'd known each other for a while, ran in the same circles, always flirted a bit more than friends probably should. so when it finally happened, when you finally crossed that line, it felt natural, like the most logical next step. and it was good. really good. better than you expected. so you kept doing it, kept meeting up, kept falling into bed together.

but somewhere along the way, things started to shift. the lines started to blur. and now, you're not sure where you stand anymore, not sure what any of this means. because somewhere in between all the stolen moments, the late-night texts, the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not paying attention—you started to feel things. real things. things you're not supposed to feel when the deal was no feelings, no attachment.

and now, you're here, on his bed, heart pounding in your chest, wondering how the hell you got yourself into this mess.

"you okay?" jobe's voice cuts through the silence, low and smooth, laced with just a hint of concern.

you force yourself to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and you feel that familiar flutter in your stomach, the one that always hits you whenever he's this close.

he's watching you, his expression unreadable, but there's something in his eyes, something soft, something you can't quite name, that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"yeah," you lie, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'm fine."

but you're not fine, and you know it, and you think maybe he knows it too, because his gaze doesn't waver, doesn't move from yours, like he's trying to read the thoughts you're so desperately trying to hide.

he shifts slightly, pushing himself off the headboard, and suddenly he's closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin, close enough that the scent of him—something clean and warm and distinctly jobe—fills your senses, makes your head spin.

"you sure?" he asks again, softer this time, like he's trying to coax the truth out of you.

you swallow hard, your throat tight, because you want to tell him. you want to tell him everything that's been swirling around in your head, the way your heart skips a beat whenever he touches you, the way you find yourself thinking about him when you shouldn't be, the way this whole thing has stopped feeling casual and started feeling like something more.

but you can't. you can't risk it. can't risk ruining whatever this is, whatever fragile thing you've built together.

"yeah," you say again, the word feeling heavy on your tongue, like a lie you're not quite ready to admit to.

he doesn't say anything for a long moment, just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and you think maybe he's going to call you out on your bullshit, maybe he's going to push you to tell him what's really going on. but then he just nods, like he's accepting your answer, even though you both know it's not the truth.

"come here," he says, his voice gentle, his hand reaching out to you, palm open, inviting.

and you want to. God, you want to. you want to fall into his arms, let him hold you, let him kiss away all the doubts and fears that have been eating away at you. but you hesitate, because you know where this is going, you know how this ends, and you're not sure you can handle it. not tonight.

but then he's looking at you with those eyes, those stupid, beautiful eyes, and you know you're done for. you're always done for when it comes to him.

so you take his hand, let him pull you closer until you're right there, pressed against him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight. and it feels good, it feels right, and for a moment, you let yourself forget everything else, let yourself just be here, in this moment, with him.

his hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your breath hitch in your throat. he leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, soft, warm, and you feel that familiar pull, that overwhelming need to be closer, to lose yourself in him.

but just as his lips find yours, just as the kiss deepens, something inside you snaps, and suddenly it's too much, too real, too everything. you pull back, breaking the kiss, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, try to steady yourself.

"what's wrong?" he asks, his voice laced with concern, his hand still resting on your back.

you take a shaky breath, your mind racing, because you know you can't keep doing this, can't keep pretending like this is just some casual thing when it feels like anything but.

"jobe..." you start, your voice trembling, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, how exposed you feel.

he tilts his head, his eyes searching yours, and you can see the worry there, the confusion, and it makes your heart ache, makes you want to take it all back, pretend like everything's fine, like you're fine. but you're not, and you can't keep lying to yourself, can't keep lying to him.

"you need to stop kissing me like you mean it," you say finally, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, before you can think them through.

he blinks, taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion. "what?"

you close your eyes for a moment, trying to find the courage to say what you need to say, even though it feels like it's going to tear you apart.

"you need to stop kissing me like you mean it," you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. "because i'm going to read into things wrong and end up breaking my own heart."

there's a heavy silence that follows, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you, and you can feel your chest tightening, your heart pounding in your ears as you wait for his response, as you wait for the other shoe to drop.

"y/n..." he starts, his voice soft, hesitant, like he's not sure what to say, not sure how to fix this.

"i know we said no feelings, no attachment," you continue, your voice shaky, your eyes fixed on the floor, because you can't bear to look at him, can't bear to see whatever expression is on his face right now. "but i can't help it, jobe. every time you kiss me like that, every time you look at me like i'm the only person in the world that matters, i start to think that maybe... maybe this could be something more. and i know it's not supposed to be. i know that. but it doesn't stop me from wanting it."

he's silent, and it's killing you, the not knowing what he's thinking, what he's feeling. because this is it. this is the moment where everything either falls apart or... or you don't even know what. but you know that you can't take it back, you can't unsay the words that have already been spoken, can't pretend like you don't feel the way you do.

and now you can't bring yourself to look up, the weight of what you've just said sinking into the air between you. you can feel jobe's presence beside you, the way his breath has slowed, almost as if he's holding it in, waiting for the right words to come out. but nothing comes. just silence, thick and suffocating, like the room is shrinking around you.

"i'm sorry," you mutter, because what else can you say? you've just bared your heart in the most vulnerable way, laid it all out there, and now you're left with nothing but the unbearable tension of the unknown.

finally, after what feels like forever, you dare to glance up at him. his eyes are fixed on you, brows furrowed in a way that makes your stomach twist with anxiety.

he looks conflicted, like he’s caught in a battle with himself, trying to figure out how to say something he doesn’t fully understand. his brows are drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are swimming with a feeling you can’t quite name. it’s not pity, thank God, but it’s not exactly reassurance either. it’s somewhere in the middle, something that makes you want to lean in and pull away at the same time.

“y/n,” he says your name so softly that it nearly breaks you. the way it slips from his lips, careful, like he’s afraid of shattering what little strength you have left. “i never wanted to make you feel like this.”

you blink back the tears that are so damn close to spilling over, biting down hard on your bottom lip because if you don’t, you might lose it right here. but it’s not his fault, not really. you were the one who let things get out of hand, who started reading too much into every lingering look, every touch, every kiss that left your heart pounding.

“i know,” you whisper, forcing yourself to look away, to stare at anything but him. “i just… i don’t know how to do this anymore, jobe. it was supposed to be simple. and now… now it’s just a mess.”

he’s silent, and the quiet makes it worse, makes the ache in your chest tighten. because even now, even with all of this hanging in the air between you, your heart still longs for him. you still want him to pull you close, to tell you that everything’s going to be okay, that he feels the same way you do. but you know better. you know that’s not how this is going to go.

“what do you want me to do?” he asks eventually, and there’s a sadness in his voice, like he’s trying to find a way to fix this without hurting either of you more. “you wanna stop? we can stop. if this is hurting you—”

“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head before he can finish that thought, because the idea of stopping, of not having him in your life at all, feels unbearable. “i don’t want to stop, jobe. i just… i don’t know what i want.”

it’s the truth. the messy, complicated truth. you don’t know what you want, because you can’t imagine not having him around, but you also can’t keep doing this—can’t keep putting your heart on the line every time he touches you, every time he kisses you like he means it, only to act like it’s nothing the next day.

he lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging, and for the first time, he looks just as lost as you feel. “i care about you, y/n,” he says, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “i’m sorry. i thought—” he pauses, shaking his head, regret lacing every word. “i don’t know what i thought. i just never meant for it to get this complicated.”

you force a weak smile, even though it feels like your chest is caving in. “things like this always get complicated, jobe. that’s just… how it goes.”

he reaches out then, his hand cupping your chin gently, turning your face toward his so you have no choice but to meet his eyes. and there it is again—that look. the one that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, like you mean more to him than he’s willing to say. it’s the look that makes you question everything, makes you wonder how this can’t be more than what it is. how he can look at you like this and not feel the same things you do.

“look,” he says softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a way that makes your heart stutter, makes it impossible not to lean into his touch. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. we can just… take it one step at a time, yeah? whatever you need, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do that.”

and there it is. the thing that both comforts and destroys you all at once. he’s giving you a way out, offering you a chance to keep him in your life, but not in the way you want. not in the way that matters. because you don’t just want him around when the nights get lonely, when you both need someone to hold onto. you want more. and you know, deep down, that’s not something he can give you, no matter how much you wish he could.

but you nod anyway. because it’s easier. because you’re too tired to keep fighting, and the thought of losing him completely feels like more than you can bear.

“okay,” you say, though the word feels empty, foreign in your mouth, like you’re already bracing yourself for what’s to come.

he pulls you into his arms then, holding you close, and you let him, sinking into the warmth of him because it’s easier to pretend, even if just for a little while. easier to believe that maybe, somehow, you’ll be able to handle this. that maybe you won’t end up with your heart in pieces again.

but deep down, you already know the truth. you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. no matter how much you try to keep things light, to keep things from getting messy, you’ve already fallen too far. and the thing about falling is that, eventually, you hit the ground.

you stay there, wrapped up in each other, the silence thick with all the things you’re both too scared to say. maybe this is just how it’ll always be—a series of almosts, of things left unsaid, of feelings too tangled to ever make sense of.

and as much as it hurts, as much as it’s tearing you apart from the inside, you’ll take it. you’ll take whatever pieces of him he’s willing to give, even if it means breaking your own heart over and over again.

because when it comes to jobe, you’ve never been good at walking away.

[furiousgoldfish]

Abusers gaslighting you will most often be about a situation where they did something wrong, cruel, hurtful and abusive, very much intentionally, and then their version of the story switches the blame on you, it depicts you as being the one who is cruel, hurtful and abusive, or alternatively, you're cruel hurtful and abusive for remembering the situation or calling them out for their behaviour, when they claim none of this even happened. If the abusers often gaslight you and try to make you second-guess your own memories and senses, eventually you will struggle with trusting your senses and feel like you can't trust your own memory and have to take on their version. But here's some reasons why gaslighting can be caught onto and confirmed that it doesn't make any logical sense.

If this person/people are claiming that I am the one who is continually hurtful, cruel and abusive, why are they insisting on keeping me in their life? Why do they keep taking measures to make sure I can't get away or am dependant on them, if they truly find me selfish, hurtful, insane, and abusive? Wouldn't they want to make way for me to get away from them, instead of endlessly convincing me that I'm the one who is in the wrong in every single situation?

If I am remembering things wrong, how come it's only the memories where my abuser/s look bad? All memories where they look good are somehow correct, that can't be right? If I remember things wrong, it would be both good and bad, not only situations that make them feel bad about themselves.

If these people seriously believe I'm someone who invents crazy stories of abuse, cruelty and torture, how do they still feel safe interacting with me? Aren't they worried I'll suddenly come up with an imaginary scenario telling everyone they did something horrible to me that they didn't do? Why don't they keep away from me if they truly believe me to be such a freak?

If I am truly someone who is doing awful and abusive things to these people/this person, how come it's never called out until I come out calling them out first? Why is my behaviour only addressed after I speak out first? How come it's never a problem all the other time when I'm not actively trying to figure out what the truth is? How come it's only relevant when they'd like me to shut up and stop asking questions and asking them to acknowledge reality? And then suddenly I am a problem. If I am a problem, I'd be a problem the entire time, not only in specific situations that they want to get out of.

If these people truly believe that I am losing my memories, inventing new memories, can't be counted on to remember the past correctly, or to comprehend and understand what is going on around me, why wouldn't they be concerned about this, and try to get me help? If they truly believe I have memory distortions and reality distortions, wouldn't they want to make sure I'm getting some kind of help, that I'm being supported to get a better grip on reality? How come this is only an issue for them, but no concern for me, other than me being condescendingly told to 'get help' or that I need to be 'institutionalized', in order to scare me, is that how loving people react to their loved one losing grip on reality? People are deadly worried for their loved ones who are losing the sense of reality, this usually happens due to a serious brain disease and people struggling with it can no longer safely take care of themselves; it's a cause for concern and extra care. Yet they show no inclination to want to care or help at all for this perceived 'problem' they claim I'm having, and use it to scare me into believing that this is my own fault. Does It make sense for them to react with such relish and condescension if they believe that this problem is real? Wouldn't they only act like this if they invented this idea in order to hide their abusive behaviour behind the lie that I remember things wrong, and need to shut up about it?

If I remembered things wrong, that would be a discussion, we could sit and talk about how I remembered things and why, instead of my version being shut down and me being told off for even voicing it, that is not a normal reaction. In what situation is a person who 'remembers things wrong' not even allowed to speak their own memories? Why would it be bad that these 'wrongly remembered' events ever come to light? Wouldn't it be interesting to know, if someone remembered something completely wrong, to hear their version? Rather than being dead-set on shutting that down, like those memories are an active threat for their well being.

It doesn't make sense. If abusers truly believe that you're a person disconnected from reality, who is also cruel, selfish, abusive and unreliable in every way, then they would react very differently to you than they do. If they had a truly bad opinion of you, and you were a harmful person to their well being, they would not want to keep you around, they would not dare to take their shit out on you, they would  not dare to tell you what to do, how to think, what to believe, they'd be scared. But they're not. They're instead acting like they're right to control your every movement and thought, and right to tell you which of your memories you're allowed to remember and voice.

Their behaviour suggests there's something in your memories they're dead set on suppressing and hiding, even at the cost of your own sanity. That is not a behaviour of loving, concerned, innocent people.

[littledata]

@princington's amazing art brought me back to this fic so have a little extra for them.

There are many, many terrible things about dating Beatrice.

For example: she manages to wake up at six AM every single morning to go jogging and comes home looking sweaty and sexy while Ava is still dealing with bedhead. She's also organised to the point of insanity and remembers every important date, even the ones Ava didn't realise she knew (like the date she opened the coffee shop. They hadn't even met for fuck's sake), and manages to swoop in with a thoughtful gift or kind word to mark the occasion. Meanwhile, Ava is still scribbling DON'T FORGET DENTIST - TUESDAY?? on the back of her hand like a high schooler.

And if all of that wasn't horrible enough, even after almost a year of dating, Beatrice can still roll up the cuffs of her sleeves or adjust her glasses or recite some complicated piece of research, and Ava winds up hopelessly turned on in public on the regular.

It sucks, actually. Ava's life is awful.

None of that is the worst part of it though. The worst part of dating Beatrice, who is sexy and thoughtful and intelligent, is that she's fucking impossible to buy gifts for.

Beatrice doesn't actually want anything is half the problem. She reads a lot of books but she mostly checks them out from the university library. She drinks a lot of tea, but Ava runs a coffee shop. If her girlfriend wants tea, she has a store room full of it. Other than that, she mostly likes crosswords, the gym, her friends, and… well. Ava.

It's making planning for the first birthday Beatrice has had since they've been together exceptionally stressful. Particularly since Ava knows for a fact that Beatrice's parents believed in a "socks and school supplies" style of gift giving which, as far as she's concerned, barely even count.

"What are you getting Bea for her birthday?" she whispers conspiriatorially to Camila one Saturday afternoon in Mary and Shannon's back yard. Beatrice herself is bouncing the baby on her knee and debating some obscure scientific hypothesis - something about mold. Ava is surprised to find she actually has an opinion on the topic. Probably all those mold documentaries.

Camila snorts, "Have you just figured out she's impossible to buy for?"

"Yes," Ava stresses, "C'mon, what are you getting her? And if it's really good I'm stealing your idea."

"Oh no." Camila shakes her head, "It took me all year to think of something. You're on your own."

"Cam." Ava tries her best pleading, puppy dog eyes. They don't work nearly as well on Camila as they do on Beatrice.

"Ava." Camila pats her hand comiseratingly, "Just get her what every self-respecting lesbian wants for their birthday."

Ava frowns, "Power tools?"

Camila smirks, "Strap-on and lingerie."

So that conversation was entirely useless - mostly because Ava already owns more than enough of both those things and they sort of seem like a gift for both of them more than just Beatrice. And more than anything else, Ava wants her girlfriend to feel special. Like she's worth something great that's for her and only her.

Shannon is her next port of call. Ava corners her in the kitchen where she's refilling drinks and, probably pre-warned by Camila, looks entirely unsurprised to be accosted.

"We normally order some of the gross British candy she likes," Shannon informs her. "And before you even try it - she knows that's what we get her every year, so don't try and steal the idea."

Ava groans despondently, "I'm hitting a wall here. What the fuck do you buy for someone who doesn't actually want anything?"

Beatrice does always say that her best friend is unreasonably logical and practical in her advice. For the first time, Ava understands her plight when Shannon shrugs and says, "Have you tried asking her?"

With nothing else to do, Ava tries. Admittedly, she probably picks a bad time to do it: she's shirtless and sitting cross-legged on their bed while Beatrice massages lotion into the new tattoo on her shoulder. Bea's fingers are gentle and thorough and very, extremely distracting.

"Hey," Ava says a little breathlessly, her eyes closed, "What do you want for your birthday?"

Beatrice, because she is Beatrice, says, "You don't have to get me anything."

Typical. This is why dating her is so difficult. "Obviously I do," Ava points out. "For my birthday you took me to a theme park even though it's your idea of actual, literal hell." Bea had even bought and worn a t-shirt that said "I RODE THE BIG ONE". Camila has the photograph framed in her office.

"Not actual, literal hell," Beatrice argues, "I enjoyed that you had fun."

"There's really nothing you want?" Ava asks.

Disappointingly, Beatrice's fingers stop their movement and she puts a cap on the lotion, moving off the bed behind Ava. "Is this what you were whispering with Camila and Shannon about earlier?"

"Maybe. They weren't helpful."

Beatrice's smile is affectionate, "They never are." She leans in to kiss her, her hand landing on Ava's bare shoulder and skirting over her neck, "I'd like to spend my birthday with you. That's all."

Ava wraps her arms aroud her shoulders and sighs, "Dating you is the worst."

"Mm, awful," Beatrice agrees, kissing the corner of her mouth and then her jaw. "Shall we break up?"

"Yep." Ava turns her head to press their lips together again and uses her distraction to lie back, pulling Beatrice down on top of her. "We're over."

(On her birthday, they drink tea in bed and do a crossword puzzle with Ava's head on Beatrice's shoulder. Later, they wander through a museum eating wine gums and holding hands. At Shannon and Mary's place, Beatrice unwraps the cordless drill that Ava bought for her.

"Thank you," she says, "It's just what I wanted.")

(Ava saves the strap-on and lingerie for later.)

[violetasteracademic]

Does Elain Archeron want to be human again?

Theory debunk ahead.

I have personally *tried* (though I am absolutely not perfect) to take a hippocratic oath with my presence on the internet and wish to do no harm. The Libra moon to my Virgo sun is always trying to approach things peacefully. The wing 2 on my type 1 ennengram is always trying to take an open hearted approach to compassion and empathy for others while still defending my views on Elain (and Azriel).

However, the take that Elain's book is going to be centered around her acting in risky, irrational, or damaging ways because she has one goal and that is to be human again, is a theory I have ZERO respect for. So, with all due respect, which is none, please feel free to self insert disrespectfully at the end of each point as I systematically debunk this theory. This is probably the longest post I'll ever make. Strap in.

So, where TF did this come from?

On my tiktok, I addressed the fact that the rumor that there is going to be a betrayer in the Night Court ranks has zero grounds. We should collectively start to work to realize this is as accurate as Sarah having an announcement on May 1st, but alas it is a losing battle. However, I received a comment that said they also agreed that it was fake UNTIL they saw someone use text to support it. Apparently, one of the human queens insinuated there is a traitor in the Inner Circle. This is why, even though Sarah NEVER said this, people are now continuing to push this "Elain will be a traitor" agenda. Even accidentally or unintentionally out of her desire to be human. I made a whole video on this, but for context, here is the quote being used to fuel this:

Briallyn and Nesta are in a game of chicken with Briallyn trying to force Nesta to get the Trove by threatening she'll have Cassian kill her, and he'll never recover. When Nesta calls her on her bluff and says Briallyn won't kill her, Briallyn responds that there are other court members as delusional as Nesta (she is referring to her love for Cassian making her weak, delusional, and vulnerable) and she can just keep threatening members of the Night Court's loved ones until someone gets her what she wants. However, she put in *quite* a bit of time and effort on trapping Nesta first, didn't she?

My friends. Where does Briallyn say "there is a traitor among the Inner Circle's ranks?" Where does it say there is a mole? It doesn't. Yes, Briallyn has spies. As do all courts and kingdoms. But to suggest Briallyn said there is already a traitor in the Inner Circle specifically because of these quotes is unhinged and beyond willful distortion of the text to serve an invented narrative based on an unfounded rumor. I don't have time or energy to recap the whole vid, but moving on from this for now. Disrespectfully.

The next layer of the conversation is this: They think Briallyn is probably still foreshadowing Elain because Elain wants to be human so badly she'll unintentionally harm the Night Court and betray them, somehow, because of this quote and the conversation with Amren on Solstice. To which I said, there is way too much evidence in ACOSF that Elain is healthy, adjusted, and has friends and purpose in Velaris. The response to that was, well that's Nesta's perception and we can't trust her.

While the convo on tiktok was, I felt, respectful discourse and we agreed to disagree, the parasite in my brain went into full annihilation mode over this theory after thinking on it.

Because by this logic- if we aren't allowed to trust Nesta's or Cassian's perceptions that Elain is healthy and well and adjusted, or glowing with good health and finding purpose and friends, then we ALSO aren't allowed to trust Amren's assumption that Elain was curious about her choosing her Fae form because Elain wants to be human again. Elain never actually said that. Amren assumed it:

(yes I'm bringing so many receipts I exceeded the photo limit and had to start combining pages.)

At no point does Elain say anything about wanting to be human. In fact, this entire conversation is about Elain's curiosity over why Amren chose the form that she did, why she selected the gender, ect. It's honestly an interesting conversation, and when Amren makes assumptions about Elain having ulterior motives for asking the interesting question, *Elain's brow furrows in confusion.*

Elain straightens and becomes cold at Amren's assumption Elain still wants to be human. One could read this as Elain feeling embarrassed for being called out, but the pure fact is that it isn't the only explanation. In fact, Elain has spent all day cooking for everyone, spent the week shopping for Solstice presents and waxing poetic about the importance of honoring Solstice traditions (more on that later) and participating in the Fae customs, fussing over her appearance for the dinner she prepped for, ECT. It's equally as likely that she is hurt over being misunderstood by the new friends and family she has spent the day trying to making a perfect Solstice meal for and shop for everyone. Which is, if I'm not mistaken, Elain's whole damn theme. Her loved ones don't really see or understand her, while she observed and understands everything. Far more than they give her credit for.

Or maybe Elain has a fucking BEAST FORM. And is curious about what her powers can do with changing form.

The point is, it is all theory and assumption from another character. So, the dinner conversation at Solstice is now off the table using the very logic enforcing the Elain betrayal plotline by suggesting Nesta's perceptions of her are untrustworthy. So are Amren's. What's next? Disrespectfully.

There's only one other item people can use, from ACOFAS, which is Feyre's perception that Elain still wants Grayson. Which again, by this logic, is off the table now.

Feyre is the one who says Elain wants a human man. Elain didn't. So this can no longer be used as evidence.

All Elain says is Lucien is not entitled to her time and affections, and it's impossible for Lucien to care for her because he does not know her. Hmm. Someone thinking they know and care for Elain without actually knowing her. Theme, anyone? I thought I heard a theme bell chime.

Alright. So Nesta is wrong about Elain. Amren is wrong about Elain. Feyre is wrong about Elain.

So where are the grounds that Elain still wants to be human based on the text?

They don't exist.

But oh, that's not even the fun part! NOW is the fun part.

By eliminating others perceptions of Elain from the conversation as they are unreliable, what does that leave us?

Perhaps with Elain's own words and actions and nothing else?

You guys, I felt like a kid in a candy story with this one. Let's see what Elain told us about her thoughts regarding the human lands, starting with the most recent publication ACOSF:

Elain describes in great detail how she was bullied by other girls when she was younger. It's interesting, because Nesta previously said that Elain used to love balls and parties. And yet here, we find out that Elain wasn't treated well by the other girls in her own words speaking on her own experience. She goes on to *shudder in distaste* that in the human lands, it would have been perfectly suitable for Nesta to have been married off and "reserved" until she was old enough to reproduce. A thought that made Rhysand, a Fae, choke on his wine. And then of course, those same girls that tormented her delighted in her downfall.

When Elain speaks for herself instead of others speaking for her, it doesn't seem like she thinks very highly of the human lands, their customs, or their behavior, or the balls she attended does it? She certainly doesn't have any friends or anyone she misses. Everyone turned their backs on the sisters when they lost their money. And Elain witnessed this with Grayson as well, who turned his back on her the second her circumstances changed against her will again.

So uh, no. I don't think Elain is desperate to go back there.

And if course we have this ACOMAF banger:

So.... yeah. In Elain's own words, sharing her thoughts and beliefs, this is what she thinks about the rulers of the mortal lands. By the way, these same queens had her kidnapped and risked her life and took everything from her so they could test out whether mortals could survive being thrown in the Cauldron. But please, tell me more how Elain misses her human life so much that she'll screw over her friends and family to get it back. Disrespectfully.

Alternatively, in A Court and Frost and Starlight, here are the lovely thoughts Elain had about Fae culture:

Here's Elain working with her friends to bake Feyre's birthday cake, a representation of the three sisters:

Here's Elain surprising Nesta and Azriel with presents her very first Solstice, after chatting with local vendors and working with the Night Court's trusted healer:

Here is what Elain, Elain and no one else, has to say about being a member of the night court and ready to use her powers to serve it:

This is what happens when you cherry pick context. You create a new set of rules, which people like me are more than willing to follow. And if the rule is: Elain's thoughts and feelings are the only pieces of evidence allowed and not anyone else's thoughts or perceptions of her, it actually only proves the theory that Elain is going to betray the night court because she wants to be mortal again and return to the mortal lands even more wrong. Considering the theme once again, of how misunderstood and unseen Elain has been, the unbelievably ironic meta-ness of it all is overwhelming. Please, unplug yourself from the Matrix. Pay attention to Elain. It's in your best interest to at least attempt to see and understand her if you plan to read her book, or you are going to be very lost and confused.

Disrespectfully.

[entername322]

Imprisoned

Irene(Red Velvet) x Male Reader

Length: 6765 words

Previous part

Irene watched your body slumped down. Immediately her deranged episode stopped leaving some space in her heart for the panic that's about to settle in.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, wake up babe, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up"

The fear is overtaking her, her hand grabbed you by the collar and start shaking your body.

A few moments later she heard your body whimpering breath and a wave of relief washes over her.

"No, you should've told me, you should've told me that A BITCH is in my own peers. I'm sorry babe, I'm sorry"

Tears starts running down her face as she hugged your fragile body.

"I will fix this, you will never cheat again babe, I won't let it happens, you're mine, you're mine and mine alone"

After a few minutes of crying she got up and pull out a handcuff from one of her nightstand.

She locked one of your hand to the bedframe. She ran to the kitchen and grab some water and put it in the table next to you.

"I'll be back babe, just wait here okay, I will fix this"

The gentleness in her voice can only be described as unnerving remembering how she almost kill you earlier.

"You're mine babe, and I won't let anybody take you away from"

Then she ran off the room, leaving you in the empty apartment.

You woke up not long after that, your head is blaring with pain and panic.

As you tried to get up you felt a resistance from your right hand. Opening your eyes you see the handcuff on you.

The fear and terror came rushing in as you remember what happened.

"Fuck"

You feel your body starts to sweat, looking around you didn't find your phone, only yous scattered outfits from the night before.

After dancing around with the devil for awhile you forgot that the devil is a devil for a reason.

Thinking you find a way to tame her. Ha, lay these foolish ambitions to rest.

You were never in control, she have you, she owns you, and if you keep acting up, god knows what she's gonna do to you.

Run, that's the first thing that come to your mind. From the room, from the apartment, from Korea.

Then your logic came in and tell you that she knows where your family live, she knows everything about you, and running, will only make things worst.

You hate your logic.

Despite your fear you still, care for her.

What a twisted love, perharps she is right, you two belong together.

You sat there silently with nothing but your fear and anxiety.

You hear your heartbeat, the clock ticking, the AC, it all made time move so slowly.

Then you heard the front door opened followed by the sounds of footsteps.

You instinctively try to call out for Irene. Yet the sound stuck in your throat, some because your throat felt painful, you can't say anything. Some because you're scared to meet her.

Then the footsteps got close, you feel your body shivering. Every step is a booming roar that made your body want to crumple out in itself.

Then the door opened, and you feel your heart stop.

There she is, Irene, watching over you with worried expression.

For a moment none of you moved, then she ran to you.

"Babe, I'm sorry"

You felt her body crashes on to you.

The weight of her body pushed you down making your hand pull on the cold hard steel of your handcuff.

The pain is severe, but you didn't say anything.

You just sit there, watching her rub her face all over your chest.

"Baby, you're not hurt right? Say something"

You saw her raised her face, her eyes is empty and cold. Her fingers felt like a block of eyes as it touches your skin.

"It's okay baby, I'm here now, nobody else gonna hurt you, nobody will seduce you and take you away from me ever again. Everything will be okay"

Everything will not be okay, your mind races trying to find out what she did while you were out.

"Say something babe"

Her face contorted for a little to show that she will not take your silence any more.

You opened your mouth but then your throat failed to make up words and you just cough.

"Oh my god, I'm sor sorry, here, drink this babe"

She took a glass of water, you think it's water, from the nightstand and try to feed it to you.

Meekly you oepned her mouth as she pour it to your mouth.

"There, better?"

She smiles, her mouth does, her eyes is still empty and cold.

You shake your hand and using your free hand you scratched your neck.

"Oh my god, wait here, I will get some tea for you okay"

Seeing her about to leave again you grabbed her hand.

She looked back at you, you pointed at the handcuff you have.

"No, you need to rest here, and I'm not letting you off again mister, you will stay here as your punishment"

She tried to leave again but you are desperate to get out of the bed.

The eternity of waiting before has made you feel scared of being left off alone there again.

"No, you're being punished, stay"

You flinched hearing her scold you. Yet you grab her wrist and pulled it closer.

You caressed it and point at the handcuff that your other hand rattle.

"What?"

Her eyes look at you with a little more gentleness.

You point at the cuff that's locked to the bedframe before pointing at her hand.

"Awwww, you must've been bored right? Okay you can come with me then"

She took out a key from her pocket before uncuffing the bedframe and cuff you to her hand.

"Mwah, this feels better, we belong together, come on, let's make some tea"

You followed her outside, looking at the clock next to the bed you realized you waited there for almost 3 hour.

You follows her every move as she prepare a honey tea for you.

"It's okay babe, everything gonna be okay"

It's a chant, she keeps chanting it to you trying to make you feel relaxed.

As you wait for the water to boil she sat you down at the dinner table and sit on you.

"I've missed you babe. It must've been very boring there right?"

You just nodded.

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier okay babe? I really do, but you can't hide those things from me, you have to tell me if you think one of your ex is around okay?"

You nod again.

"Good, I love you"

You immediately kissed her. She let out a happy squeal as she made out with you.

Oh boy, you're into her, somehow all the fear you had just washes away. You're happy she's back, and that she's no longer mad.

"I love you babe, come on the water is boiled already"

After she finished pouring the tea the tow of you cuddle up in the couch.

Playing around with her hair you see her empty eyes slowly turned back to normal.

By lunch you two were already back to the physically intimate couple like before.

"Can you speak now?"

"It's a little painful"

"Awwww, I'm sorry okay babe"

"It's, fine"

For some odd reason she doesn't want to go out for lunch with you, it's weird huh.

The takeout was fine, it was meh compared to the food she used to bring you to.

"So, when you were resting earlier, I decided to check out some house for us to get"

There is still some sense of self preservation in your head that screams desperately for you to wake up.

"I, told you yesterday"

She shake her head indignantly.

"That was yesterday, after what you said this morning I'm not taking ANY more chances, no bitch will take you away from me ever again"

"But, I have to pay for it"

"Ssshhhh, if you really want to pay for it then, make me songs. There's this one house that is just perfect for us. It have a gym, a sauna, a pool with a jacuzzi, it even have two bedroom next to eachother that we can turn into a music studio. You'll live it, I already put in my request, I'm sure they will come back to me anytime"

Reluctantly you nod making her let out a happy squeal.

"Shower"

You groaned.

"Heheheh, okay, let's take it together"

There was too much words to convince her not too so you decide to just let it off.

Thankfully she realised that both of you need to take off the handcuff so the restricting feeling in your hand was gone for awhile.

"Hmmm, I love you"

She hugged you before pushing you inside.

The hot water from the shower washes over both of your body.

"Wash my back babe"

Irene turned around to show you her back. An alluring view your weak mind is to vulnerable to.

Running your finger through her spine you see her body shuddered.

"Are you still not tired from last night babe?"

She whimpered, you grabbed her tits from behind while your other hand wrapped around her to her vagina.

"Hmmmm, baby"

Your mouth start to kiss her neck, your right hand is massaging her tits and your left hand is rubbing her pussy.

"Ahhhhh, there baby, do it again"

"Fuck, bite it harder"

"That's it, pinch my nipple agai- aghhhhh"

Your timidness is all gone, leaving nothing but your hunger and lust.

Without hesitation you plunged your cock into her pussy.

"Baby, yeah, fuck me, fuck me harder. Your dick is mine, it belongs to me and only me"

You pushed her to the glass wall as you start pounding her from behind.

"Baby, mark me, fill me up again, use me"

You are so fucked, you can't escape her, she have got you fully wrapped around her fingers.

Since you're still tired for last night you didn't last long before you cum inside her yet again.

Irene is so used to cumming with you that the moment your cock start throbbing her orgasm would follow suit.

"Haaa, Haaa, let's, get cleaned"

Your rough voice seems to be a new link for Irene. You should be careful, she might start choking you out again to bring it out.

"So, I've send the request to transfer you under me okay? Tomorrow we are going to meet my boss and we will tell them about our dating situation"

You honestly don't care about them anymore.

"Hey, are paying attention"

No, but you can't say that without angering her.

"They're not important right? You're not asking for permission, just reporting to them about what you want to do"

The answer pleased her as she kissed your cheek.

"I, want to rest babe, my tank is empty"

The night went by quietly, nothing to note off. It was the calm before the storm.

The storm, was getting ganged up by 4 girls trying to pester you with questions.

"Enough, you're scaring him, and don't touch him"

Thankfully your girlfriend scare her member off by holding on to you tightly.

"Hehehehe, I told you they are dating"

"You only said that because you find out before us"

"Hey I told you that the rumour might be true before I even know about it"

"That's right, unnie was super suspicious when we first do the trainee check up the first time"

"Right? And she went to the bathroom not long after him. Once she got back she was smiling like a kid"

"You didn't take picture of it?"

"I don't have time"

"Come on guys, we need to band up together"

"Right, so, blue?"

The four girls turned to you making you a bit nervous.

"Yeah, blue is fine"

"Right, so who comes on to who?"

You glanced at Irene who's holding your arm like her life depends on it. She's glaring at her member who doesn't seems to mind.

"Well, Noona asked for my number first"

The four of them gasped and turn to Irene.

"Unnie, you're so brazen"

"Yeah, what the hell, you always said you hate exchanging number with stranger"

"You hate men too"

"Do you guys know eachother before that?"

Seulgi turned everyone attention back to you.

"No"

The four of them look at Irene bewildered again.

"Are you..... Who are you?"

Wendy said to Irene who just keep her calm expression.

"Wait what did she say to get your number?"

"Well, she said she's sorry for not giving me any comment earlier. I said it's fine, she asked if it's okay then for her to watch me again to help guide me. I..... Really thought she meant the trainee in general. I say yes, and she asked for my number"

"Unnie has actually a good flirting skill?"

"That's unbelievable, unnie, why did you do it?"

Irene just raised her face without saying anything.

"She took you out to a dinner after that?"

"Not exactly, she forced me to workout early at the company gym. After that she will have breakfast with me, she would just talk about her days from before. It goes for a we-"

Wendy suddenly interrupt you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there, unnie tell you about her days?"

You nodded while Irene is hugging you tighter.

"Unnie, who are you"

"He answered your question already, now let us go, we have an appointment to attend"

All four of the blocked the exit making Irene grunt.

"What happened next, when did you start going out?"

You looked at Irene who nodded at you.

"Well, I think it was after a week plus of that new morning schedule. I didn't had money to eat and I also want to focus on practice and skipped lunch. Irene, kinda find out and dragged me out to get lunch"

"Wait, how do you know unnie?"

"I have my ways"

"Noona kinda stalks me really"

"Unnie"

The girls stare at Irene with disbelief while Irene just blush and glared at you.

"Waahhhhh, unnie is stalking someone"

"Unnie always do a background check for all the guy I hook him up with. Of course she's gonna stalk the one she likes"

"I'm not stalking"

"You were a bit of a stalker babe"

"No I'm not"

Irene looked back at you with a blush making her look so cute. She definitely won't try to kill you when she get jealous.

"How did unnie ask you out?"

"Well, I was a bit pissed, I don't like, well I just don't like it when people pay for me. It make me feel pitied. She then asked if that's what I think she's feeling, I said yes because I don't really have much selling points. She said she like me, I was like okay, thanks. Then she clarified that she likes me, romantically.

"I guess my brain just short circuited from there. She said she want me to go out with her, and from now on I'm her boyfriend. I just say yes"

"That's not unnie, you're can't convince me that is unnie's doing"

"Enough, we have to go, let's go babe"

Irene used one hand to hold you while the other is pushing her member away so none of them get to touch me.

Once we escaped the lion's nest we walk to the crocodile den, a meeting with a bunch of higher ups.

You feel, small, and weak. There's 15, that's right, 15 people sitting around a U shaped table making it feel like you were in a trial.

Irene confidently walked in with you in her arm.

"Let's just get this meeting over with, I want him under my wing and I want it now"

"Welcome you two, please have a seat"

You sit, you gaze to nothingness and just sit there while Irene is arguing with the people there.

It took around an hour until they finally relented. Irene happily parade you all the way to the car.

"I'm so happy, we will be together from now on babe"

You're happy too, right?

"Me too babe"

Well you sound kinda forced although it's not entirely clear was it because your throat is still hurting or because you're not as happy as you should've.

"Let me kiss you"

She tried to grab your head but you back away.

"We're in an elevator babe, wait until we got back in the car"

An ugly frown creept up on her face.

"Once get back I'll kiss you however long you want"

She nodded but the frown doesn't leave her face.

At the basement, the elevator door opened. The people who's waiting for it are, Aespa.

You see Aeri there stare at you shocked, you felt your hand almost break from Irene's grip, you feel your heart jumping out of your chest.

"Good mor-"

Karina tried to greet you and Irene but Irene already dragged you away leaving the 4 girls bewildered by her antics.

"Baby calm down"

"Calm down? Did you see how she sees you? She was trying to win you back. That fucking VULTURE SON OF A BITCH"

Thankfully the car is somewhat soundproof so her roars doesn't echoes throughout the basement.

"Baby calm down, don't you trust me? I will never leave you right? Even if she tried I will reject her"

"She will try to put her filthy fucking hands on you and I won't allow that. Oh baby you're mine, every inch of your body is mine, I won't let her touch a single strand of hair from you"

Her eyes turned cold and empty again. You need to fix this quick.

"We won't see her again, we'll be living together from now on right? I won't need to come here so we will never crosspaths again"

It's somewhat working, her anger doesn't subside but at least it doesn't raise.

"We'll be together okay, you want me to never cheat, and I promise you, I will never think about any other girls again. So can you please do the same for me babe?"

Satisfied she nodded and grab your head.

Your make out session doesn't last long as a car drove past yours making the reluctant Irene let you go.

"Should we, check out the house?"

"You know me so well babe"

The house is nice, secluded in a gated community, a very big house with spacious interior and backyard.

The first thing you want to check was the basement, which thankfully doesn't exist. You wouldn't want a stranger living there, or, being chained there by an angry Irene.

"You love it?"

Irene hugged you.

"Yeah, this place is nice"

"Good because they contacted me back, we got the house"

Irene jumped towards you for a hug.

As you two are celebrating you felt your phone buzzed.

"Who's that"

Irene looked at you angrily, cautiously you pulled out your phone and check the caller. Thankfully it was just your mom.

"I need to answer this"

"Put it on speaker, I promise I won't say anything"

Despite her begging frown expression you know it's not really an option to say no.

"Hello mom?"

"What did you do? Your father just got a call that you're dropping off the trainee program"

"Oh yeah, about that mom, I kinda got a better offer"

"I thought you wanted to be an idol"

"No, I mean, yeah, kinda? But a few days ago I got a test, which I performed a song that I made for my girlfirend-"

"You have a girlfriend already? Don't tell me I'm becoming a grandma soon"

"No, not any time soon. Let me just finish my story mom, so I performed it, in front of a bunch of idols. They like it, and they said I have a potential in being a producer. So I'm training to be one, I can still make music, I got paid enough, and I can work from home"

"Hmmmm, are you getting scammed again?"

"What? No"

"Me and your dad is coming to Korea this weekend sweetie so you better give me a through explanation"

"I..... Okay, I'll see you here mom, love you"

"Love you too sweetie, don't lose your money from gambling while you're there"

That's your mom, always so vocal about your weaknesses and stupidity.

"My mom is coming here"

Irene looked panicked, she walked around the room nervously.

"Baby, relax, things will be okay, mom and dad would love to meet you"

"You think so"

Irene mind is filled with countless anxious thoughts.

What if they don't like me? Will they take babe away from my? Will they cause problem? Will babe choose them over me? Is babe gonna be made if I cut them off from his life?

Slowly her anxiety descend into sinister idea.

She can't have your relationship ruined again by other people. She will hold you, and she will never let you go.

Knowing Irene for sometime you know Irene is slowly going insane with her paranoia.

You grabbed her by the shoulder.

Woken up by your touch her crazed eyes look on to yours.

You flinched for a moment before having determination fill your face again.

"They will love okay? Trust me on this, and even if they don't, it won't change a thing. Nothing will change this, us"

The cracking sound of Irene's insanity is almost audible for both of you.

Once again she is reminded of the warmth your body has always gave off.

The warmth she has grown accustomed to somehow become intoxicating once again.

You're right, they won't change a thing between you and Irene. She understands that now.

"Okay baby"

A sense of relief has was washed over you. For now, you finally gain the control of her.

"Come on babe, let's go home. You must be tired from the meeting earlier"

Irene hugged you and ribbed her face all over your chest.

"Yeah, I want to cuddle again"

Saturday has rolled around, you and Irene drive to the airport to pick up your parents.

Due to the nature of an airport you know Irene won't be able to walk around without being spotted.

Much to her dismay you suggested for her to wait in the car.

To gain her permission you let her leave a hickey on your neck, noticeable for anyone with a functioning eyes in a 10 meter radius.

The longer you waits for your parents the more anxious you become. Mostly because you know how anxious Irene would be the longer you waited.

The moment you saw your parent walked out of the customs with their bag you ran to them.

"Sweetie? What are you doing here?"

"I want to pick you up"

"We can get to your place with a taxi sweetie"

"That's the thing, I'm not in my old place, come on, my girlfriend is waiting"

You picked up the suitcase your father is bringing.

"Your girlfriend? Where?"

Your dad looked around.

"She's in the car, it's complicated, you'll understand when you meet her"

Your parent looked at eachother before following you.

"Did you do anything stupid until you got riddles by bitemark from her?"

The blush on your face doesn't match with your green jacket unfortunately.

"She's, a bit aggressive"

"Is she rich?"

"Dad"

"Come on your mom and I is not stupid, did you seduce a sugar mommy and got a job as her personal musician or something?"

If only you inherited your parents intelligence, you might be able to evade Irene.

"It's, I love her okay?"

"Sweetie, as much as we love you, we know you're pretty stupid"

"MOM"

"She's right, you came to Korea just to follow your ex"

"Okay, first if all DO NOT mentioned that to her"

"Okay, but if we don't like her then we're pulling you up"

Prayers, that's all you have in your mind, you pray so that Irene didn't fuck up the dinner.

"There she is"

The moment you walk to the parking lot you see Irene drove to you.

You quickly opened the trunk and drop your parent's suitcase.

They waited till you finish before getting in the car with you.

"Mom, dad, this is Irene, my girlfriend"

Irene grabbed your hand nervously before turning around and greeted your parent.

"Do I know you, your face seems familiar"

"It does, ohhhhh, I know, she's that girl on the poster our son hang around his room"

Irene stupefied expression turns to you.

"You have posters of me?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal"

Your blush crept up to your face again, Irene watched your sudden embarrassment in satisfaction.

"You're right darling, he have like 10 poster of her scattered around his room"

"Dad, go introduce yourself"

Irene was smiling proudly at you.

"Of course, nice to meet you Irene, we're this rascal's parents. We do want to know how this thing came to be"

The ride was silent, Irene constantly grabbing your hand anytime she could.

You can feel your parent is watching her move, and you know she realised that.

Of course Irene doesn't care, she wants you.

Once you all get to Irene's place you went to heat up the food you've prepared from before.

"So Irene, how did you two meet?"

You really want to stay there with Irene as your parent interviewed her.

Unfortunately you have to tend the mash potatoes.

You don't really want to stay there do you?

"Alright, dinners ready"

Bringing out the food you then sir next to Irene before the 4 of you have a nice dinner.

"This is a nice place Irene, you have a good taste"

"Oh, thank you mom"

Seeing your dumbfounded expression your mom laughed at you.

"Come on baby, she's your girlfriend, I don't need formalities with her"

The fear in your heart is slowly being lifted.

Gazing into Irene's loving eyes, you can't help but to crack a smile.

Irene has been elated and joyful after having some talk with your parents.

They are pleasant and seems very supportive of your relationship with her.

The last few nights she has been restless in her sleep and would woke up early crying.

You have to keep reassuring you that your parent would love her.

Of course, you would never expected them to be this...... Accepting?

After finishing out the food Irene bring out a bottle of wine the four of you enjoys.

"So, are you two moving in together?"

"Dad come on"

"Of course, we are preparing his things from his old apartment before moving it"

"Oh this place is such a nice apartment, to live in"

"Thank you mom, but I think we're moving out soon"

"Really?"

"Yeah, we're getting a house"

Irene grabbed your hand triumphantly announcing your future plans.

"Oh, that's great sweetie, you should get married while at it"

"MOM"

"Your mom is right sweetie, might as well at this point"

"Mom, dad, can I talk to you for a second"

Irene is displeased by your actions. However she will act polite for now. Do expect some scolding after your parents go to sleep.

Your parent followed you to the kitchen leaving Irene sipping on her wine alone.

"Alright, what are you two doing?"

"What are we doing? We're just showing our support for you and your girlfirend"

"Come on you never liked any of my girlfriend"

"We like this one"

"Because she's rich"

"Correct"

"Dad!!!"

"What your father means, is that because she's a beautiful rich lady who seems to be very into you"

"And that is enough to get your blessing?"

"She seems nice, and she loves you, and on top of that she's rich. Unlike normal rich people she has a social presence and public image to keep. So if things goes bad with you, nothing bad would happens. She seems smart so she won't ruin her public image just because you two had a fall out"

"Of course sweetie that only stand as long as you're not being an idiot"

Obviously, your parent doesn't know another side of Irene that you're familiar with.

"Okay, so what you want me to marry her and take her money?"

"Do you not love her"

"More than anything in the world so if you want me to marry her so you two can get her money then I will be mad"

"We don't need your girlfriend money sweetie. Your mom and I is old, we are happily living our retirement with your siblings money. We just want what's best for you"

"You really think I can't amount to anything in life beside being a sugar baby?"

"We say you're not getting any easier path in life beside this"

"Come on, working at home, your beautiful rich girlfriend will be taking care of you while you busy making music all day?"

"Fine, but if you ask for any money"

"We won't, in fact, take this"

Your mom pulled out something out of her purse, a little box. Opening it you see, a wedding ring.

"Mom what the fuck"

"Come on you won't have enough money to buy one"

"That's insulting"

"Yet it's true"

"I hate you two"

"Take it sweetie, it's from my mom, now I'm giving it to you"

You stare at it before pocketing it.

"You're just walking around with grandma's wedding ring?"

"No, we had a potential buyer here in Korea"

The whole situation is overwhelming your brain. You massaged your nose bridge while trying to digest it.

"Okay, let's go back, don't say anything about this"

They nodded before walking back with you.

"I'm sorry Irene, we are a little jet lagged, do you mind if we lay down for a moment?"

Your dad immediately excused themselves.

"Of course, follow me"

Irene wrapped one arm around yours and lead your parents to their bedroom while you bring the suitcase.

Then she immediately dragged you to your bedroom.

"I do not appreciate your behaviour today mister"

The anxiety she had from leaving you in the airport is welling up again.

Did he see a beautiful girl while waiting for his parents? He's having second guesses about me didn't he? I know it, I know some bitches gonna seduce him away from me. I shouldn't have-

Her train of thought was interrupted by your kiss.

It calm her down, she can feel your sincerity in it making her let go of her possessiveness.

Once you pulled back she was left with nothing but annoyance.

"That's not an answer"

"You didn't ask anything"

"I'm asking now then, your parents is happy to support us so why aren't you?'

"I am, I am very happy for us, I'm just not happy with their support"

"Why? You said they'll love me"

"Love you, not helplessly in love till they want to offer you their son"

"They're not offering anything, they just want us to thrive together"

"Okay baby, I'm just shocked seeing them so happy about us. They've been very, worry that I might get someone here in Korea and have been lectu-....... Of course I won't do it"

Realising your mistake you immediately grab her again.

"Baby, I swear to god, if you even think about doing that, I will-"

"I know baby, I know, I want to tell you my parent is paranoid usually okay? But you managed to break it"

Unsatisfactory answer, but it's passable for now.

"Fine, now get on the bed, it's cuddling time"

With your parents blessing Irene happily moved in to the house with you the moment she got it.

The first few months was a bit hectic.

Irene is unhappy that she can't stay at home all day because there's contractor around the house renovating the two empty bedroom to a recording studio.

Things got easier after that, Irene would go and do her job, you would stay at home. Cooking, cleaning, writing music.

Your dad is right, being a househusband is very nice.

You would come up with a song here and there and she would blast it around the house.

The, producer in training is such a vague term for your job.

You gave them a full album demo on your first month and then went off communication for 4 then come back with a few more songs.

This, happens because Irene doesn't want anyone to sing the song you made.

Eventually they just relegate you to be the Red Velvet song producer.

You never met any of them more than once a month, but that's enough for them to put trust in you to make albums for their group and solo activities.

Live is good, unknowingly a year past, with no hitch in your relationship.

"Babe, I'm home"

Irene's voice was echoing around the house as you are preparing dinner with her.

"Welcome home back, how's your-"

She rushed after you before you finished your question.

"It was so boring, I had to wait for so long on the photoshoot because another group before us was taking too long......"

The kitchen is filled with the smell of cream soup.

The temperature is chilly since it's winter but the kitchen and Irene's arm is warm enough to make it comfortable for you.

Irene coming home and whining about her day while sniffing and cuddling to you has become a normal occurrence for you.

Yet today, today is different, today, you realised, you're home.

This is your home, and you love it.

"Babe? Are you okay?"

Irene saw you dazing off and immediately check if anything is wrong.

"No, I was just thinking, about my trainee day"

"Why?"

"I don't know, some nostalgia I suppose"

The ring your mom gave you has never leaves your side so that Irene would never found it.

Today, you found the resolution to use it.

"You're free tomorrow right babe?"

You hear Irene purr as you caressed her hair.

"Yeah, we're spending the whole day together"

"Can we go to my training room, my old training room, I want to have some nostalgic trip"

She frowned hearing it.

"I want to cuddle with you the whole day"

"It won't take more than an hour"

"Let's go now"

Shit are you ready to use it now?

"Really?"

"Yes, the place is empty already at this hour and we can check it"

"Do you want to get dinner first?"

"We can do it later"

Your hand can't stop fidgeting during the drive.

Every step you take towards the practice room send flashes of your relationship with Irene.

All her anger, all her paranoia, jealousy, possessiveness, obsession.

Also, all her cute demanour, her caring and loving attitude, her insatiable lust.

It all swirl around your head, yet once you stepped back to your old training room, it all disappeared.

Silence filled the room, you slowly walked to the middle of the room.

You remember when you first got there for your first day.

You remember when your friend dislocated his shoulder while messing around.

You remember the scolding you get for your dance.

You remember the faithful encounter you had with Irene and her member.

You remember the time she dragged you to the lunch.

You remember the performance you had for her.

How the crowded room felt empty.

How everyone just magically disappeared.

How lovely her face was.

How she desperately held her tears from bursting out.

How she desperately stop herself from jumping to your arm.

How you wanted nothing else but do the same thing she wanted.

How prideful and happy you were to surprise her.

The memory blended in with the moment.

Now the room is actually empty.

Now there is no one that would stop you two from embracing eachother.

Now, is the time.

You tried to get closer, you really do, but every step feels so heavy.

Before you get to close your distance with her, she leaped in and do it for you.

"You look so emotional babe, did something happened?"

Her hand caressed your cheek and her voice tickling your ear sending warmth and reassurance, you can do it.

"Remember when we first meet, how nervous I was"

"How could I forget"

"Remember how you were checking me out like a creep that you are"

"I'm sorry, I remember you were checking me out and got caught multiple time by me"

"Oh right, as if you didn't check me out while I'm not watching"

"No evidence so therefore it never happens"

"Remember that time when you dragged me out to take me out on a lunch where you just take me to be your boyfriend?"

"You were do stupid there"

"I'm not, then you remember the last time we were here? When I lied to you and sing you a song I made"

"You were so hot, I would've jumped you and fuck you right there and then"

"I would do it too, because I love you"

"And I love you too babe"

"Now and forever"

"Now and forever"

"Good, because Irene, I could never think about living my life with anybody else but you"

"Babe?"

"And I don't even want to think a life without you in it"

You see Irene picked up your intention.

One of her arm closed her mouth trying to hide her cries as her eyes start tearing up.

"Through all those anger and paranoia that you have, I would still stay with you"

"You with all your perfect imperfection"

"You with all your beauty and elegance"

"You with all your childish needy behaviour"

"You with all your loving and caring attitude"

"You, with all of, you"

"I am just me, a boring uneventful guy who got lucky and get you"

"And I thank the world for letting us happens"

"I thank you, Irene, the most beautiful woman in the world, for accepting me"

Her tears is running down her cheeks looking down to her feet.

She dropped her hand and grabbed yours as you kneeled down on one leg.

Pulling out the ring your mother gave you Irene let out a muffled cries.

You opened the box showing her the ring.

"Irene, will you marry me" "YESSSS"

She screamed almost the exact second you asked the question.

Before you stood up to put on the ring she jumped towards you.

Both of you tumble to the ground.

Cries was echoing around the room as both of you embraced eachother.

For a few minutes none of you want to let go.

Even when the cries subsided you still happily hugged eachother.

Then slowly Irene loosened up her hug and sit up on your lap.

You followed her and bring the ring out.

The smile you've seen everyday looks so tender yet so brilliant with a newfound light.

Slipping in the ring both of you take a moment to admire it.

She dropped her hand, you took the opportunity to grab her by the cheek and get yourself lost in the kiss.

Every cell in Irene body is screaming with joy feeling the cold sensation of the metal around her ring finger.

The cold feeling somehow got amplified a thousand time by the warmth your body and kiss is giving her.

You both were lost in the kiss, drifting off into space, for a moment you are one, your soul intertwined with eachother so much that gods would think it was just one soul, one very big and loving soul.

Then you both were pulled down from nirvana by the desperate scream of your lung.

You both catching your breath while looking down to her finger.

Then your gaze locked and you both start laughing.

""I love you""

Both of you said at the same time before giggling again.

"I like the ring"

"Mom gave it too me"

"It's more beautiful since I wear it from you"

"It's a nice accessory for your face"

The two of you got lost in the moment, in eachother, in the dreams of the future.

"Let's go home"

"Cuddle while eating on the couch?"

"You said you hate cleaning the couch"

"I can clean it tomorrow"

"Then I won't be able to cuddle you the whole day tomorrow"

"Then the day after"

"Okay, let's go home"

This is your life now. You've embrace it, and so does she. You two are inseparable.

Smiles plaster all over you and Irene's face, leaving the practice room one last time, walking towards your future together, forever.

[aoxizu]

i have another 2.1 character dynamic post in the recesses of my brain but i need to get this out first

star rail's 2.1 update main plotline leans a lot more into existentialism and absurdism than i thought it would which is a really nice surprise

like i thought before 2.0 that at most it was just going to be some "oh no capitalism bad ipc bad cults also bad" thing but honestly what we got is so much more interesting. the spoilers start now

also massive disclaimer i am not a philosophist and actually i really don't like philosophy because it makes my brain hurt and i would much rather just look at logical nice things like math and plants so. if i get anything wrong please correct me

acheron's past and how she became an emanator of nihility reminds me somewhat of the absurdist theme of how people always look for meaning when there isn't any, until they finally realize that the universe is meaningless

and the entire path of nihility basically is a road towards that realization that people tread on, and the difference between the real world and star rail is that in the real world here we have people who will see that and then go write a book about a guy not crying at his mother's funeral, whereas in star rail it seems that just accepting that the universe is meaningless turns you into a pathstrider or even emanator of the nihility (not sure if i remember the details, correct me if i'm wrong)

and then aventurine's whole motivation is trying to understand why the universe is so cruel to him, and to find meaning when you have everything except freedom, both of which are absurdist themes

the leap of faith argument often attributed to søren kierkegaard claims that even though there is no rational logic for believing in god, you should do it anyway because the alternatives are madness, suicide, and ignorance. this was one solution to the problem of confronting the universe's meaninglessness: choosing to believe in a higher being regardless

later world wars i and ii both contributed heavily to the rise of absurdism as people returned from the war, having seen so many others die around them, and then just going back to a normal society with none of what they as individual soldiers had contributed seemingly doing anything. and then it happened again, but on a much greater scale with even more deaths. both wars and the destruction they brought led many people to start questioning why a supposedly moral god could allow this suffering, and this is where camus comes in and says that actually religion and nationalism both aren't good solutions, and instead we should just accept meaninglessness and keep living despite the absurdity

and i think dr ratio's scroll thing kind of relates to that

he tells aventurine to open it when he's about to die, or when he's completely out of answers for the question of how to confront absurdity

and dr ratio's answer for aventurine is to just tell him to keep living, good luck

which is. yeah

it's the argument that there are more answers to nihilism than just 1) going insane, 2) pretending like it doesn't exist, and 3) dying

it's the bold claim that despite everything, you can still choose to live

sure nothing makes sense but that does not detract from your life. it doesn't need to make sense at all

and with the understanding that things do not need to fit our human definition of meaning, we can continue on knowing our true place in the universe

and with that aventurine walks into the very big black hole like look at that thing you cannot tell me there is no symbolism there

let's go back to acheron.

in the part where you get a snippet of acheron's conversation with some guy just before this cutscene, the other party states that "[IX] leave[s] woven strands of fate for humans to walk, and together THEY weave a great shadow...And this shadow silently envelops them."

which to me sounds like a statement on how people across time and space have again and again come to the same question, what is the meaning of life?

and acheron's whole color thing seems to mean that she is one of the few who, after walking so far on the path of nihility, somehow have not died yet, be it from madness or something else

like it seems implied that many many more have seen the meaninglessness of the universe and have not reacted as well as acheron has

ok i have more to say about the elation and how it in turn relates to the nihility but that will have to come later but there is. a lot of interesting things there to explore

once again disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosophist And Do Not Know What The Correct Definitions Of These Words I'm Throwing Around Are. thank you for coming to my ted talk that was more of a longwinded ramble

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

I just wanted to say that I love your stories. I have had a Hannibal idea rumoring in my mind for some time now and decided to share it.(maybe you can make a one-shot out of it). The reader from our world is a big fan of the show Hannibal and one day wakes up in it (at first without realizing it.After finding a corpse, she somewhat recognises the person, but can‘t quite place it.After she called the police abd the FBI arrives she soon realises where she is. (idk any further, sorry if it‘s really bad)

Could there be a love triangle of some sort between Hannibal,the reader and Will?

Hannibal X Will X Reader: In another life

a/n: not sure if this was what you were thinking but i hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: death, blood, injurys, attempted murder, being captured, hospitals, crime, fluff, female reader, no use of y/n, not proofread.

Word count: 2,2 K

You could smell a sort of coppery scent. Your head was hurting in a way it never had before. Still you managed to force your eyes to open up. You were laying on your back in what felt like grass. The smell was a bit overwhelming but you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from. You lifted your body up slowly, resting on your elbows for a moment. It was dark but you could still make out your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. And you had no memory of what had gotten you here. You turn your head to the side and that's when you see it.

A body.

You let out a scream, quickly rising to your feet and taking a step back. The dead eyes of the body stare up at you. You realize that the scent you’d smelt was blood. Your hands moved around your body in search of your phone. Even though you had no idea what was going on you knew you needed to call this in. Your hands shake as you dial 911. 

“911 what's your emergency?”

“I’m in the middle of nowhere and there's a body. I don”t know how i got here and i don’t know who this person is i-”

“Okay I need you to calm down. Are there any street signs nearby?”

You look around desperately searching for something to help the dispatcher find where you were. Your eyes fell on the sign a couple of steps away from where you were. You couldn’t read it very well.

“Yeah there’s a sign. I’m gonna go closer. It's so dark.”

“It's going to be okay, just read it to me.”

You squint your eyes, trying to make the words clearer. 

“Wolf Trap. I’m in virginia.”

The sound of the operator's voice dulled a bit as you tried to understand what was going on. How the hell were you in virginia? You didn’t live anywhere near Virginia and you’d never thought of visiting it. The only reason you even knew about Wolf trap was because of…Hannibal. But there was no way.

Or was there?

You finished talking to the 911 operator who had told you she was sending cops to your location. You sat near the edge of the road and waited. You don’t know how much time passed but soon you were surrounded by police. They led you to an ambulance and placed a blanket over your body. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well nothing other than the fact you were here.

And then they appeared. 

You were staring at the ground beneath you, your hands fiddling with each other. You heard someone call out your name, causing you to raise your head. Your eyes widened as you watched Jack Crawford walk over to you. And trailing behind him was none other than Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

You had to have been dreaming. That was the only logical explanation. You closed your eyes, pinching your arm. When you opened them back up again nothing had changed. You were still sitting in an ambulance staring at the characters from your favorite show. Jack called out your name against causing you to pull yourself together.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah sorry. I guess I'm still in shock.”

“It’s natural to feel that way after seeing a body.”

Hannibal's voice filled your ears as he spoke and you couldn't help but notice he sounded exactly like he did on television. 

“This is-

“Hannibal Lecter.”

Jack looked over at Hannibal in curiosity.

“And that's Will Graham.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed at your words.

“You two know her?”

“No they don’t. But I know them.”

You paused for a moment, realizing you didn’t know what part of the series you were in.

“I mean I've read about them.”

“You really shouldn't believe what Freddy Lounds writes.”

You turned to look at will, observing the way he avoided your gaze. 

“She’ll do whatever she can for attention.”

You don’t know how you knew but something told you he was talking about Abigail. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t believe everything I see on the internet. My heart goes out to Abigail Hobbs.”

It was a shot in the dark but what did you have to lose? From the way Hannibal and Will looked at each other you could tell you’d said the right thing. 

“Let's focus shall we. What can you tell us about the victim.”

“Just that he’s a male. And that he is dead.”

“Well that we could figure out ourselves.”

You almost smiled at the sarcastic tone Jack talked in. They were just like you remembered them. 

“I woke up next to him. I remember my head was pounding so I'm guessing someone hit me with something and I became unconscious. But that's about all I can tell you.”

“Okay. Hannibal stay with her. Will you come with me.”

You watched Will walk away with Jack. You assumed Will was about to place himself into the killer's mind and as much as you wanted to watch him in action you knew better than to ask such a thing. You turned your attention back to Hannibal. He was looking over at where Will and Jack had walked over to.

“You can go with them. I’m okay.”

Hannibal gave you a gentle smile. The action made your stomach swoop. Damn your attraction to the cannibal. He moved over sitting next to you. 

“You shouldn’t be alone. This must have been a very traumatizing experience for you.”

“I just wish I knew what happened.”

You stopped talking for a moment, realizing something for the first time. What if you were the killer? Hannibal seemed to sense your uneasiness, his voice calling out your name. You turned to face him, a tear running down your cheek.

“What if I did it? What if I killed him.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t you. And if it was, I'm sure there was a reason.”

“Self defense.”

“Most likely. But don’t dwell on it. Will is going to figure it out. And I'm going to help him find who is responsible.”

You stared up at Hannibal. Everything seemed to rush into you all at once and before you knew it you were crying. Hannibal pulled you into his embrace, his arms moving over you back to soothe you.

“Shh it will be alright.”

After the officers went through their usual questions and forensics collected the evidence Jack told you you were okay to go home. The only issue was you had no idea where that was. You googled your name and were surprised to see your phone number and address pop up. You told one of the officers where they could drop you off. Will overheard you talking to the cop and realized your house was on his way home.

“I can take her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it's not a problem.”

Will turned to face you.

“Unless you don’t want me too.”

“No, it's perfect. Thanks for offering.”

Will gave you a small nod, beginning to walk towards his car. You trailed after him. Once you got in the car Will turned the engine on and reversed onto the road. You stayed silent for most of the ride, eyes moving over the trees outside your window. 

“It’s not you.”

Your head snapped to look at Will. His eyes were glued to the road ahead, his demeanor calm.

“Sorry what?”

“You’re not the killer.”

“How did you-”

“Hannibal told me you were scared it was you.”

“Well if it wasn’t me who was it?”

“That's what I'm gonna find out.”

For the next few weeks you helped with the investigation. You’d drive over to the FBI and try your best to give them as much information as you could. And you’d go over to Hannibal's office so he could try to help you remember what had happened to you. Being around Hannibal and Will almost daily made it easy for the three of you to grow closer. You’d go shopping for food with Hannibal and you’d take Wills dogs out for walks whenever you could. You found out that your “character” owned a small coffee shop and that was where you got your income from. Whenever you were free you’d spend your time in your coffee shop. You’d chat to the locals and from time to time Will would show up to talk to you. 

One day you were walking back to your coffee shop from the FBI when you started to feel like you were being followed. You grabbed your keys from your pocket speeding up your pace to reach the coffee shop quicker. You’d placed the key on the door when you felt something knock against your head. Before you knew it you’d fallen to the ground. You struggled to keep your eyes open. You let out a breath, your lips moving to call out Wills and Hannibal's name. 

Then everything went black.

Will had gone over to your coffee shop. He was planning on checking up on you. The moment he got to the front door and saw the key stuck in the keyhole he knew something was wrong. And then he looked down and saw the blood on the floor. He pulled his phone out, dialing Hannibal's number. Before the phone had even begun to ring, Will was racing back to the FBI. 

You opened your eyes slowly. You could feel a chair behind you. You moved to rub your eyes, only when you tried to move your arms you realized they were tied. Panic started to settle in. You moved to open your mouth but there was a piece of tape over it. Your eyes searched around the room, trying to figure out where you were and if anyone was with you. The room was empty except for the chair you were sitting in. You tried to move around but your legs were bound to the legs of the chair. In your attempt to move you've managed to tilt the chair and before you knew it you were crashing onto the floor. Your head hit the floor and you went unconscious again.

Will kicked in the door, his gun pointing into the room. His eyes fell on you immediately. He rushed inside being followed by Hannibal. Your eyes were closed but he could tell you were still breathing. Hannibal moved to tug the tape of your mouth as Will began to work on freeing you from the ropes. Jack walked into the room, his eyes falling on Hannibal and Will. 

“Shit. Is she alive?”

“Yes but there is a wound on her head.”

“Take her to the hospital.”

Hannibal turned to look at Will.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Find the person who did this.”

Your finger twitched  against the bed sheets. You groaned, opening your eyes slightly. A blinding light filled your eyes, causing you to shut them a bit. From the smell you could tell you were in a hospital room. You blinked a bit allowing yourself to become used to the light. You could feel a bit of weight on your hand causing you to look at it. Your eyes found Will's hand. He was sitting on a chair next to your bed, his hand grasped around yours as he slept. You continued to look around the room. On the opposite side of your bed you found Hannibal's frame. He too was slumped against his chair, his head resting on the edge of your bed as his hand gripped onto your wrist. They were clinging onto you to make sure you weren’t going anywhere. You smiled and let out a breath realizing that you were safe.

You shifted in your bed trying to get into a more comfortable position. Will's eyes opened as he felt you shift against him. His gaze found you, his free hand coming up to rub his eye. 

“You’re up.”

You turned to look at Will taking in his sleepy state. He looked awfully cute like this. 

“Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up.”

“You should have.”

Your head snapped at the sound of Hannibal's voice turning to look at him. He looked a bit more put together than Will but you could tell he was tired too. 

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Making sure you were okay.”

“I’m sure the doctors here are more than capable of doing that. No offense.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“We caught him.”

You looked at Will. 

“The killer?”

“Yeah. They arrested him a couple hours ago.”

“That’s good.”

“We should have been quicker.”

“Well you caught him didn’t you?”

“Not before he hurt you.”

You could tell Will was beating himself up. You shifted moving to place your hand on his cheek. He raised his head to look at you. You gave him a small smile.

“I’m okay Will. You saved me.”

You turned to look at Hannibal, wrapping your hand around his.

“You both did.”

You had no idea how you'd gotten here. But sitting in that hospital bed, holding onto Will and Hannibal you couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

[waokevale]

Looks at you with my eyes sitting in front of you like I'm interrogating you (but it's actually a really nice cozy room). I have heard tale of this WXwood ship. Tell me what you find compelling about the ship I'm considering joining you in WXwood land. Literally just say words at me I'm listening

Alright, very well then, so I shall! 🫡

At first, I only shipped them ironically, because they seemed like the classic "opposites attract" trope, which I favor 👍

But then I got digging, and I realized they're not actually that different after all. In fact, they share plenty of common traits and interests. What many people overlook initially, is that neither of them is actually a black&white character. None of the DST cast is, to be fair. 🩶

So it was inevitable, I became enthralled with this ship and now it's probably my nr 1 of all time.

Here's a list of my reasonings and what I found out about these guys thus far (updated):

1. WX-78 is actually a bit of a softie if you spend some time reading through their quotes. They act tough and logical to presumably hide whatever ounce of empathy they have left, that didn't escape them completely. (But they're not doing too good of a job)

They either use this uncharacteristically soft tone or hide a kind gesture or well-intentioned thought behind robotically constructed sentences and insults.

Even when they are threatening someone/something, they're all bark no bite. They might be very rude, but most of the time they won't actually go through with what they say.

And of course, I don't think I need to show the quotes for machines or metallic structures, since WX-78 openly sees them as their family and acts basically the same as Wormwood does with his plant friends.

2. Speaking of, Wormwood isn't always an empathetic creature. He can sometimes be callous, apathetic and even have favorites amongst plants (and people too), though he doesn't directly state that. He also isn't as dumb as he portrays himself to be, he definitely knows something, but either has too limited English speaking skills or is actively choosing not to say much.

He often sobs or cries when a creature dies, but there are times he reacts with either "whoops", "oh" or "too bad" like it's a small inconvenience at best.

And those are only some of the examples. If you'd like I could always try and find more of these specific quotes at another time.

3. Despite seeming vastly different at first, they would eventually become good friends.

And why do I think that? Because WX-78 actually likes plenty of things that correspond with Wormwood!

Bees (If we were to go back to their previous quote I've shown). Fun fact, WX-78 has a lot of quotes where they express how much they like/respect bees! And since Wormwood blooms, there's countless of them surrounding him at those times. It's a welcome bonus while hanging out around him. (Though maybe not in Spring)

Their quote for green gem is: "PRESSURE AND IMPURITIES HAVE PRODUCED PLEASING PERFECTION" which is. well. Something.

They're very fond of pumpkins, describing them as: "IT HAS A PLEASANT SHAPE" while their seed as "IT IS A SOURCE CODE FOR PLEASING PLANTS" And guess who just happens to have a pumpkin skin ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

The lunar affinity. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume WX-78 was outright worshipping the moon. They have dozens of quotes describing how THE MOON IS SUPERIOR, INORGANIC AND GOOD, I wouldn't be able to fit all of them into this post, (just trust me on that). Regardless, they're still deeply attached to it. it wouldn't be surprising that, if they found out about this aspect about him, they'd become very fascinated with him, because c'mon, it's the moon, and he's from it!

Despite acting like it, WX-78 doesn't actually hate all organic life. Plants in particular, are actually some of the organisms they seem to hate the least. They're partial to potatoes and lureplants; the former because they say they can relate to them, and the latter because "AWW, IT'S JUST AS EVIL AS I AM". They even recognize the beauty of certain flowers, even if they say it in a mocking tone. So then, would it be too farfetched of a concept for them to grow to appreciate organic life with Wormwood's influence ?

And yeah, they might not like him at first due to the whole "Filthy Organic" attribute, but that's just how they are with everyone! And that's what we're here for! That slowburn! With the two of them getting to know each other and realizing they have shared interests and know similiar struggles!

Going back to Wormwood. His quote for the W.A.R.B.I.S armor and head gear suggests that he highly admires WX and would like to be strong like they are.

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Head Gear: "Just like robot friend!"

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Armor: "Be strong, like robot friend!"

There's also his quote for the Nautopilot where he's the only one who shows genuine concern for WX-78's perturbation:

–WX-78, when examining the Nautopilot: THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA

–WX-78, when examining an active Nautopilot: I THINK THAT RIDICULOUS SCIENTIST IS TRYING TO KILL ME

–Wormwood: Robot friend doesn't like Pull Rock

5. The survivors' farming animation is quite charming, I certainly loved their small interaction there. They're also shown in the official Return Of Them vignette, farming on the side.

6.. I like the fact that one of them is afraid of water and the other of fire. Adds an interesting dynamic.

7. As @benzybenny mentioned, it's a cute idea that they could make each other's favorite foods. Wormwood has the resources for making a butter muffin practically instantly available, due to his Bee King and Berry Bush crafting skills. And WX-78 is perfectly fitted for the ruins, yes! Them fetching bananas (definitely only to spite the monkeys, not for Wormwood and Wendy specifically) sounds very plausible to me. 😁

8. They just work. Despite claiming they want to "DOMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE" WX-78 appreciates people who can stand up for themselves. I'd guess Wormwood would be a huge pushover at first, no doubt, but with their influence, he would certainly have to grow a spine (metaphorically speaking)

Likewise, WX-78 struggles to show kindness to non-robotic creatures, because they fear they might come off as WEAK and SENTIMENTAL. Things they loathe to expose about themself. Wormwood could help them show that it's okay to love organic friends and be nice to others! (sometimes at least.)

I'd say they balance out each other perfectly and that is quite rare to see in modern ships.

While they'd definitely struggle to get along at first, they'd surely grow fond of the other one day :)

I hope this convinced you. if not, I'll try and dig up some more stuff. Then again, keep in mind that there aren't many canon character interactions besides whatever crumbs we've got from their quotes and official animations.

[nomoreusername]

Barely Holding On

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:When Newt finds you hurting yourself he goes from angry to looking after and comforting you.

⚠️ Self harm ⚠️

I don't feel normal. I don't feel like I can do as much as anyone else. I don't feel good enough. I just feel so empty, so absolutely worthless. It's as though I'm a ticking time bomb ready to explode and hurt everything around me at any moment.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to be frustrated all the time. I don't want to always wonder if there's something particular messed up in my head. I just want everything to finally feel alright. Not even good. Just normal. Just okay.

I never do. Sure. Sometimes I feel nonchalant or happy when something good happens, but it never lasts.

I didn't bother to try to get clean. Nobody even notices so it doesn't matter anyway. Not only that but when they heal they itch until all I can think about is the cuts littering my skin.

I was supposed to be hanging out with Chuck. I said I would spend Greenie night with him. I want to. I do. I do want to be out there with him, with the Gladers, with my few friends, having a carefree time. I thought I would be able to.

I wasn't. I barely got halfway through the evening before my head kept reminding me that there's a knife waiting for me back under my cot.

"I don't feel very good,"I told him. It isn't even a lie. If I don't cut in the next few minutes, I'm going to start hyperventilating. I need it. I just do. I don't want to, but if I don't get it everything will be ruined.

"But you said-"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Probably. I have to leave though,"I rushed out, standing up before he could actually question me. Resisting the urge to sprint, I kept my hands in my pockets as I walked to my hut. Even though every single foot feels like a million miles I can't be suspicious. I can't, I can't, I can't.

With my heart racing inside of my chest, I didn't dare let my body weigh itself down. My feet need to move. Every part of me needs to move. Every part of me is frozen while also being on autopilot. Absolutely none of it makes sense, but it also does. It does to me. To my messed up brain, all of this is logical.

Bursting into my hut, I was shaking as I slammed the door shut. Ignoring the way I could hardly see through the tears clouding my vision or maybe too messed up to actually notice, I forced my feet one after the other to my cot.

Leaning over, I didn't even have to look to know exactly where the knife was placed. Gripping the handle firmly, I pulled it out from its hidden in plain sight place. You can't really see it when you're in my room, but it's always there. Once you know it is, it takes up more space than any other object, even me.

As I held it the tears just seemed to stop. Everything inside of me stopped. Something in me went cold, almost dark. Numb. It was just numb.

Pulling up my sleeves, I revealed the rows of growing cuts and scars. It started monthly, but now it seems to grow daily. It's taken over my life. Sometimes I realize that, but when I'm doing it some part of me doesn't know anything at all.

Dragging it across one of the few areas that was untouched by darkness, I watched as the blood dripped down my skin. It's as though this is all happening in third person, as if it's not even me doing this anymore.

The sting takes longer to set in now. I think I'm adjusting to the pain or something. That means I either have to either cut longer or deeper. Not enough to die. I don't want to die. I just need my mind to calm down. That's all this is. This is my only hope left of actually holding on.

As I crossed over a fresh cut I winced. Realizing that was the ticket to pain, I went over that spot again and again. By now the shouts of the Gladers and yells of happiness were tuned out. Everything is. Everything but the pain and the blood.

Tears started to fall as the self loathing came back. I could be out there, fulfilling my promise. Instead, I've locked myself in here to cut. It's so messed up. It's all wrong. I'm wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

I hate this. I hate this, but it's the only way to keep stable. It's killing every part of me, but if I don't do this I'll genuinely lose it. I can't lose it. I can't. Not here. This is better than the alternatives. It's better, and it's fine, and nobody will know.

"Y/N?"Newt asked, knocking on my door. As I was brought back to reality I slowly looked at the damage.

It had fallen down my arms, getting crimson drops on my pants. There were blood splatters on the ground. My actual wrist was more of a mess than my head. You could hardly see my skin through all the blood.

"Y/N?"

"Don't come in,"I choked out, letting the knife clank to the floor.

"Are you okay?"

"Go away,"was all I could get out as I shoved it as far under my bed as possible. Frantically tugging my sleeves up, I was shaking as the blood dripped through. Wiping my eyes, I desperately looked around for something to fix it. Something to cover the disaster.

"Are you okay-"

"Leave me alone!"I demanded, my voice unsteady and unsure.

"What's happeni-"

"Leave!"I screamed louder, attempting to wipe my sleeves against my pants only to get the stain to spread. Sitting back on my bed, I kept pathetically continuing the act anyways, running out of options.

"I'm coming in-"

"No!"

Ignoring my protests, he opened my door to see me sitting there, my feet over the edge of the bed and my long sleeves stained with blood. As he just stood there in shock the door closed on his own behind him, leaving us there with nothing but my self destruction.

"I-I can't-"

"What is wrong with you?"He asked slowly, the situation seeming to sink in.

"I-I don't-"

"No seriously? What is wrong with you? You're supposed to be out there, with everyone? How are you in here? How?"

"I didn't mean-I'm sor-"

"No! How could you?! I have asked if you are okay! I have been worried about you, and you always say you're fine! Every! Damn! Time!"

With the tears streaking my face, I unconsciously dug my nails into the little bit of my exposed skin, ripping into the cuts.

"You've said you're okay! You said everything was fine but you're in here doing this! For how long?! How bloody long?!"

With sobs leaving the back of my throat, my nails dug deeper into my fresh wound as I started shaking. This wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't.

"Do you think this is fine?! Do you think this is okay?! Do you think it's fine to sit in the dark and cut yourself?! Do you?!"

Frantically shaking my head, I cried harder as I sputtered out weak apologies. Despite this I seemed physically incapable of pulling my nails from my cuts. I just clawed at myself as all the emotions hit me like a tidal wave.

"I'm sorry, love,"He said gently, everything about him suddenly seeming soft. Mumbling incoherent things, I buried my face in my hands. "It's okay. It's okay,"He coaxed, sitting in front of me. Cautiously taking my hands, he pulled them away from him and into his.

"I'm sorry,"I got out.

"It's okay. I promise. I'm not really mad at you. I just didn't expect this. I didn't know you were struggling this badly."

"I'm sorry,"I repeated, physically incapable of saying anything else.

"I'm not angry. I just didn't know you were doing this. I didn't know you were feeling this bad, and I panicked. I love you. I really do,"He whispered.

"I didn't know what else to do. Every part of me feels wrong. Something inside of me is broken, Newt. Truly broken,"I admitted through shaky breaths.

"You aren't broken, Y/N. You're hurting, but you aren't broken. You are full of good. You're full of amazing things, and I'm sorry you can't see that. I'm sorry you thought this was your only way to feel okay,"He whispered, lacing his fingers through mine.

"I don't want to be this way. I don't, but it seems to be all I know. In only a few months, this became everything that I am,"I admitted.

"It isn't all you are though. Just because you're doing something you shouldn't, just because you found something negative and mistook it for coping, doesn't mean it's everything that you are. You are an incredible human who has done nothing but make this place better. There's a reason Chuck was so excited to hang out with you tonight. There's a reason Minho likes to stop and say hi to you before he leaves. There's a reason I love you. You're brilliant, and you deserve better than what you're giving yourself,"He whispered, cupping my face. Wiping my tears away, he looked at me with nothing less than sympathy, undeniable pain, and pure love.

"I never thought it would get this far,"I murmured.

"I'm sure you didn't. That doesn't mean we won't figure it out though,"He coaxed, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"Every part of me is exhausted. I'm just so drained,"I admitted. Still wiping my tears, he nodded in understanding.

"Then, we'll sleep it off right now. We're gonna go to sleep, I'm gonna hold you, and we'll figure it all out in the morning. Okay?"

"Yes. Okay,"I agreed.

With me still in his arms, we laid down. Pulling my sleeve up, he took my one without the new injuries and pressed his lips to my scars. Shutting my eyes, I let the tears fall down my face as he kissed the ruined parts of me.

"I'll love you forever. I've loved you for so long, and I love you now. No matter how you may see yourself, I will always see you as the most amazing person, the kindest human, and the most beautiful girl in the world,"He whispered.

Cuddling up as close as I could without closing my arms, I rested my head on his chest. Kissing my temple, he whispered sweet nothings until I dozed off.

♡ - - - ♡

When I woke up the next morning it was in Newt's arms. He had still been carefully holding me. He had been wide awake, looking after me.

We left before anyone could see. He snuck me into the Med-hut so he could fix me up. He wiped my cuts, old and new. He kissed my skin and told me it would be okay. He disinfected my arms and wrapped them in bandages.

The thing that stuck out most was that he had given me his bracelets. He told me that whenever I thought I needed to hurt myself but couldn't find him, to look at these and remember that I will never be alone. He made sure they would stay.

He understandably hadn't left me alone today. He was by my side, making sure I wasn't a current danger to myself. He didn't do anything big which only made me more grateful for him. He kept a subtle eye on me, smiling whenever he met my gaze, holding my hand when he was able to, and whispering reassuring words in my ear.

Alby needed him for a moment. Something about a Second-in-command duty.

"Will you be okay for a minute, love?"He checked.

"I will,"I promised.

"Okay. I'll be back soon,"He promised, kissing my temple before going to see what he needed.

Getting back to planting the seeds, I made sure the dirt was firmly packed.

"It seems like he's just obsessed with you today,"Someone drew out. Looking up, I saw James. He wasn't known for kind words so needless to say him speaking to me randomly was a red flag.

"He's just being loving,"I said quickly, about to chew the inside of my cheek before catching myself. Looking at the bracelets, I smiled for a second.

"His bracelets, huh?"

"Yep. They were just a gift,"I muttered, standing up so that he was no longer towering over me.

"Really? Let me see?"

"No!"I said quickly as he grabbed my wrist. Wincing at the contact his hand made, I held it to my chest as a sound of pain left my mouth. While it was only for a second, it was enough for him to notice. That and I had almost yelled, catching some nearby bystanders attention.

"Oh, I get it,"He smirked.

"Leave me alone,"I demanded.

"He wants to make sure you don't hurt yourself, doesn't he?"He guessed, trying to pull the bracelet off again. Keeping my arms pressed to my sides, I repeated for him to just leave me alone as I willed myself not to cry in front of everyone. I can't. I won't.

"Awe. You gonna go hurt yourself again?"

"What do you think you're doing?"a familiar and now cold voice asked. Looking back, I saw Newt walking up before standing beside me, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

"Chill. I was just joking,"He defended, his hands in his air.

"No. That was you being a prick. Nothing more, nothing less,"He corrected.

"But-"

"Come with me. Now,"He demanded, his voice calm yet furious.

"I didn't-"

"Now,"He repeated even firmer. Realizing there was no way out of it, he followed Newt past the gardens. Looking back, he made sure he was still going. When he was, he led him in front of the pit. "In, now,"He commanded, opening one of them and gesturing him inside.

"But-"

"Did I say it was up for debate? Get inside. Right. Now,"He repeated.

Once again realizing he couldn't actually get out of punishment, he hopped inside, his head down and face hidden in shame. The second he hit the ground he slammed it shut and tied it tighter than I think it's ever been. Even from here, I could see his jaw clenched.

When he was sure it was alright he walked away, his head held high. Standing beside me again, he grabbed my hand as if nothing happened.

"Come on. Let's go on lunch,"He suggested. Nodding my head, I intertwined our fingers as I kept myself pressed against him, ignoring the way my face heated up.

Heading over to the kitchen, he asked Fry if we could get our food early. With a smile and no questions, he served us, giving a polite nod.

Taking both the bowls, he led me a little bit into the Deadheads. By now everyone was back to their previous activities, not wanting to pry on whatever that was.

Sitting beside him, I rested my head on his shoulder as he handed me my bowl. Knowing that all I wanted right now was silence and his company, he let us do nothing but eat and savor the others presence, exactly the way I needed.

[seelestia]

we missed you, welcome back!

i had a thought for a few days now and then i saw that you were back and i just had to share this

so imagine that you wake up in teyvat one day and you speak a different language bc they probably don’t speak english in teyvat, and no one understands you, but then there’s the smart haravatat ppl like alhaitham and faruzan (idk if there is anyone else) who use their smart language brains to figure out how to talk to you, i think that would be super cute

.💭

BRAINROT ANON— my comrade on tumblr, i missed you too!! i'm so honored that you thought of me aww :') you knew i'd be glad to brainrot with you anytime!! /gen. i focused less on how they communicate with you, but rather more on the events surrounding this concept. hope ya don't mind! so good to see you again <3

extra note: this was written from a platonic pov! yk those movies where a protagonist helps out their 'otherworldly' companion to go back to their home world? yeah, that's what i'm going for here. movies like 'home' and 'cj7' came to mind immediately. that's us and faruzan!! oh, and alhaitham is here too, i guess. /j

-

imagine waking up one day to find yourself transported to the middle of the hypostyle desert. the sun burns, scorching hot on your skin then suddenly, it's gone? oh no, some strange turquoise lady is peering at your face with disapproval. you suspect she thinks you're a reckless traveler who forgot to bring ample supplies to a place like this. “███ ███ ████ ███?” she says and you realize you don't understand a word.

[translation: did your water storage run out?]

imagine the confusion on faruzan's face when you mumble a few sentences? noises? grumbles? she specializes in semiotics (and ruins), not speech pathology so how is she supposed to know? anyway, she graciously takes you in! and brings you back to her residence. yes, yes, how generous, applaud her later but she cannot hand you over to the akademiya just yet. (who knows what they'll do with you? you're obviously not of this world.)

imagine trying to communicate with faruzan using other means besides language. one of them includes pointing at the fresh apple slices on her kitchen counter. she gives them to you and notes how you say 'tenk yu' (?) which she takes as a sign of gratitude. of course, she also jots it down in her notes alongside her observations. how interesting.

and she manages the grand feat of roping alhaitham in, somehow someway. he's a youngster (everyone is a youngster if you're one hundred years old at this point) far too solitary for her liking — plus, notoriously hard to convince but that helps: he's someone who won't tattle! that's her logic here. she even had to invite him over for dinner and introduce him to you herself! ugh, she really had no more funds left to spare... so this better works.

it did, oddly. alhaitham's first instinct is to question and his deductions conclude that you are far too genuine (for lack of a better word) for all of this to be a ruse. the way you pointed at his fit and gave him a thumbs-up he assumed that you meant to say you thought it's “cool”.

alhaitham observes you; when you speak, none of the words sound familiar to his experienced ears and trust him, his quota of languages exceed many. he is not here to brag, so don't twist it. nor do you seem to understand anything whenever he or faruzan speaks. you don't even react in the slightest when he mentions or addresses you directly, only a tap on the shoulder works. it's safe to assume you do not know teyvatian language.

the guy in gray green turns to madam faru with a hum. she taught you to refer to her that way. it took hard work and lots of apple slices. “██... ██ ███ ████ █ ████?” he asks.

[translation: so... do you have a plan?]

“██ ███ █████!” she puffs out her chest in determination.

[translation: in due time!]

he sighs.

you blink, eternally confused.

[guilty-pleasures21]

The heretic princess

I got this idea stuck in my head from the book ‘The Heretic Queen’ by my favourite historical fiction writer Michelle Moran. And don't worry, I've already written all the parts except for the last one, but I'll finish it up so I can post this weekly without delay.

Note: I’ve not explicitly referred to the setting because I don’t want to misrepresent anyone’s culture and offend anyone, even if unintentionally. However, this is set in ancient times where their views of childhood and marriage differed from most modern civilisations today.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Warnings: None ...? I don't think?

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

     “I bet I can make my stone skip more times than yours,” Kai challenges Miguel, tossing his stone up and down in his hand nonchalantly. 

     Miguel's lips purse in annoyance and he folds his arms across his chest. “You dare challenge your future king?!”

     You laugh at Miguel's imposing tone and place a hand on his arm. “What are you going to do, Miguel, command your stone to skip more times than Kai's?”

     Kai joins into your laughter and despite his best efforts, Miguel's lips curl into a smile at the look of delight on your features. 

     “What are you guys doing?” The three of you turn to follow the voice and find Dina picking her way carefully over the stones on the riverbank. You and Kai roll your eyes in disappointment and turn your attention back to your game. 

     “Nothing that would interest you,” Kai mumbles, his abrupt tone indicating his dislike of the girl. But Dina continues making her way towards the three of you, undeterred.

     “Well, why don't we find out?” She lifts her head to smile at Miguel, but her expression melts into one of horror as she trips and starts falling forward. Miguel quickly leaps towards her, catching her before she can hit the ground.

     “Are you all right?” he asks, letting her continue to hold onto him even after she'd already steadied herself. She meets his gaze and you huff as you notice Miguel’s eyes widen slightly at the dazzling smile she shoots him. 

     “No thanks to you, my Prince.” 

     Miguel clears his throat and takes a small step away from her, a slight blush crawling up the back of his neck. 

     “It was no problem, really,” he reassures her, his lips curling slightly at the ends as he sneaks a glance at her. You turn to Kai, arms folded across your chest in irritation. 

     “What is she doing here?!” you hiss, quietly enough so that Miguel doesn't hear. Kai sighs and shuffles closer to you.

     “Apparently, the advisors want them to be married when he becomes co-regent,” he reveals softly. Your heart drops into your stomach at the suggestion. Miguel?! Marrying Dina?!

     “Why?!” you whine, more upset than confused. Kai raises an eyebrow at how disturbed you seem by the idea. You calm yourself quickly, regaining your composure, but your eyebrows remain set in a hard line as you wait for his explanation. 

     “Well, her father is the chief Royal Advisor. Of course he would push for her to marry the next King,” he replies easily. You wrinkle your nose at his simple logic.

     “But Dina would make a terrible queen!”

     “She doesn't have to be queen though,” Kai points out quickly. “She just has to give Miguel heirs.”

     You clutch your stomach as it roils at the very thought of Dina and Miguel having children together. Gross! You bend over, trying to fight the nausea overcoming you and finally, Miguel rushes back to your side.

     “Y/N?! Are you all right?” He moves his hand in soothing circles across your back, wanting to make you feel better, but all it does is make you feel even more hot and uncomfortable.

     You take a step away from him and your movements cause the confused look on his features to intensify.

     “I-I'm all right,” you reassure him weakly. “Just a little hot.”

You pull back the collar of your dress and flap it as if to prove your point and Miguel relaxes a little.

     “Would you like to go for a swim?” he suggests, gesturing to the shallow water beside you. You finally meet his gaze and your stomach curdles when you see the concern etched onto his features. You shake your head and Miguel exchanges a puzzled look with Kai.

     “I think I'd rather just go inside and lie down,” you tell him. 

     “We'll walk you back,” Miguel offers, looping his arm through yours. Kai supports you on your other side and together, the three of you head back to the palace.

     You stare into the mirror as your nursemaid combs oil through your hair. She would know about the rumours regarding your best friend's purported wedding - the servants were always in the know, silently disappearing into the furniture as the nobles spoke freely about their darkest secrets. “Meena?”

     “Hmm?”

     You wring your hands together as you summon up the courage to ask her the question. “Are Miguel and Dina going to get married?”

     Meena doesn't pause the movements of her fingers through your hair as she replies to your question. “Why would you ask that?”

     You hesitate again, trying to figure out why it bothers you so. “I was just … Kai mentioned it today … and I wanted to know if it was true. Would he really marry Dina?”

     You meet her gaze through the mirror, your eyes wide with horror and her lips curl ever so slightly at the ends.

     “He might,” she admits coolly. “She has grown up in the palace, after all, and her father is the chief Royal Advisor.”

     Your lip quivers at your nursemaid's implicit confirmation of the rumours. “But I have grown up in the palace too! And my mother was the sister of the last true Queen!”

     “Hush, child!” Meena frowns at you in disapproval and moves around to look at you properly. “You are not meant to say such things, princess! The King had very generously permitted you to keep your title and allow you to remain in the palace. You would do well to acknowledge his kindness.”

     You bow your head, embarrassed by your childish outburst. You were thirteen now - far too old to be scolded like a little child. Meena's expression softens at the look on your face and she returns to her place behind you to start braiding your hair. 

     “Besides,” she continues, “what does it matter to you if the prince marries Dina? Would you like to be married to him instead?” 

     She sneaks a glance at you through the mirror and smirks as you begin blushing furiously at her suggestion.

     You?! Marry Miguel?! But he was … he was a boy! A boy you’d grown up with like your own brother! You lower your head as a warm flush creeps over your entire body.

     “Never mind that for now, little kitten,” Meena dismisses you gently. “Let's get you to bed.”

     You lie down and wait for your nursemaid to tuck you under the covers - just as she always does every night. You were still a child after all; still too young to be thinking about marriage to anyone let alone the future king.

     Miguel stormed into his father’s study, his body hot with rage after he'd learned of your departure the night before. How could you … How could you leave him?! Just like that?! Without even saying goodbye! And why had you left him anyway?! You were happy here! With him. 

     “Father!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw him. “You have to bring her back! You have to … You have to command those priestesses to bring her back here, now!”

     The king raised an eyebrow, amused by his son’s childish tantrum. “Bring who back, my son?”

     “Y/N!” Miguel responded. “She can’t … She can’t leave! She is needed here! Not at the temple with those … with those …” He paused, struggling to find a word to describe the priestesses without outright insulting them - they were the representatives of the Goddess, after all, and even he wouldn’t dare insult a Goddess. No matter that they had just stolen his best friend in the entire world from him. 

     His father chuckled and set his scroll aside. His son was seventeen now - old enough to leave the school and begin his official training to become the next king. And yet, here he was, whining like a child, begging his father to bring his friend back. “And what reason would I have to make such a challenge to the Temple?”

     Miguel frowned, frustrated. Why did his father not understand?! You were meant to be by his side. Always! “Because … Because she is mine!”

     The king laughed, delighted by his son’s childish innocence. 

     “I am afraid that is not a good enough reason, my son,” he informed him, turning back to his desk in dismissal. “Find me another and I might consider it.”

[wolfgiselle]

Cage Wi-fi

"Can I ask, once again, how it's even possible we get wi-fi down here?"

Adam knew he was beating a dead horse, at this point, by getting worked up over this, but he was only human. Even in these trying times of Angels and Demons—of cages in Hell that were supposed to hold the literal Devil but, for some reason, also currently held him and the Archangel Michael—he needed things to make sense. Nothing had been going as it should lately. Not for a long time. Yet, here he was, trying to find logic where it seemed none existed.

"I assume the computer and its 'wi-fi' are here for entertainment purposes. There's not much else to do down here," Michael murmured. His face was practically hidden behind the screen. It had been for the last few days. At least, Adam thought it was days (Hell time was different, Cage time worse). Adam hoped Michael wasn't becoming addicted—that was all they needed—but there wasn't anything he could do to get it away from him.

Lucifer, at least, seemed to find Michael's newfound fascination and obsession amusing. "The demons snuck one down. I enjoyed the machine last I used it, so I, uh…let's go with 'asked' them to bring one down."

Adam should've guessed Lucifer was behind this. Even when he searched his brain, he couldn't figure out how a simple laptop could cause much, if any, damage. The whole situation seemed harmless. It was because Lucifer was the one who wanted it that he couldn't help but be suspicious.

His relationship with the Devil was mostly cordial. Michael had made it clear early on his vessel was off-limits when it came to torture or harassment. But the warning had ended up being unnecessary. Lucifer had, at first, focused all of his attention on his own vessel, Sam.

Adam had felt a bit bad then that Sam was experiencing such a thing while Adam was getting off scot-free. But, as he'd understood it, it was Sam's fault they were down there. Sam had decided to jump and take Lucifer with him—dragging him and Michael along for the ride. For such reasons, Adam also couldn't help but feel a little vindictive himself after all was said and done. All Adam had wanted was to see his mother and help save the world.

Lucifer did torture Sam for a while, but he must've gotten bored or finally calmed down because one day—for no discernable reason—he stopped. Sam didn't react as though he'd stopped, though. Instead, he kept screaming and tearing into himself, yelling words like "Stop!" or "No!" even though Lucifer was no longer touching him, basically torturing himself.

It almost made him relieved for Sam's sake (as well as his own) when, not long after, they saw Castiel appear. He shot into the cage with as little subtlety as a flaming meteor to snatch him, somehow managing to grab Sam's body but fly off, leaving his soul behind. He hadn't even spared a glance for Adam, despite Michael's (very much appreciated) attempt to get his attention and remind him.

The results of Sam existing in the cage without his body were a trial of their own. If Sam had seemed off or unhinged before, he was an absolute basket-case now. Lucifer even became desperate enough to try and calm him down, to no avail.

Then, once again, they had a visitor. This time 'Death' of all things. (And had Adam mentioned before he wasn't cut out for this?) While Adam was busy trying to fathom the idea of Death having a physical manifestation—on top of still trying to come to terms with Angels, Demons, and… well, everything else he'd ever thought was fantasy being real—Death retrieved Sam's soul.

Death, at least, was polite enough to acknowledge them. Adam included.

"I'm sorry, but the deal was only for one. Dean made his choice," he had said to him.

He'd immediately understood. It hurt, but he wasn't surprised. Their relationship had been short and brief, and for all they'd gone on about family and tried to appeal to him with that argument, he'd meant what he said when they first met. His mom was his family. She was the one he'd been doing all this for.

After Sam was gone, Adam worried Lucifer would get bored and come after him. After a while of showing no such inclination, though, Adam relaxed.

Adam was also surprised when Michael and Lucifer didn't fight each other. He'd been under the impression that had been the whole point of the Apocalypse. Michael had pointed out that neither could kill the other as long as they were down here. The cage kept whatever was in it alive. Fighting would be an exercise in futility.

The two of them still argued. But it was more like your average brotherly back-and-forth (if you considered disagreements over whether God would return and save them, or whether humans deserved to live or were insignificant ants that polluted and destroyed all God's other creations average).

Adam was doing okay. He figured for a guy stuck in Hell (possibly for all eternity), he was holding together pretty well. There was just some confusion over the computer.

"If we can get a signal down here, could we send messages to Earth?" Adam asked.

"And who were you planning on sending messages to?" Lucifer drawled, his human manifestation sprawled out against one of the corner cage walls. That was another thing that confused Adam. This wasn't their 'true' form he was seeing.

When Michael first appeared to him, he had been pure light. His presence had been so bright and heavy it'd felt both like staring directly at the sun and, somehow, being surrounded by it. Michael had later told him it was a miracle he'd been able to look upon him at all. Apparently, it was common for people to burn their eyes out when directly looking at them outside of a vessel. The Winchester blood that'd made it possible for him to be a vessel for Michael period must have saved him.

This meant he'd seen Michael before and had at least an idea of what an Angel could look like through human eyes. He also thought he'd caught a few glimpses of Lucifer when he was still torturing Sam. But he wasn't sure if what he'd seen was accurate after so long. Or if what he'd seen at the time had been distorted by Michael back then, trying to keep him coddled up within his…well, wings in an attempt to keep the awful things happening in front of him from view. As if not seeing Sam's torture made him any less aware of it happening. In some ways, the not seeing, the not knowing, was worse.

Lucifer's image—if his sneaked looks had been accurate—gave off the opposite impression of Michael's. If Michael was the sun, then the Devil was a black and oily hole, primed and ready to suck off or destroy any of the light that wandered near.

Adam wondered if Lucifer stayed in this humanoid form lately (despite his proclaimed hatred for the species) because he hated what had become of his original form or if it would be presumptuous of him to believe he chose to look that way to ease any discomfort Adam might've once shown at his true but now contaminated, visage.

Surely, the Devil would prefer for him to be uncomfortable? No matter how well they seemed to get along, it made little sense for Lucifer to play nice with the vessel of the brother he'd set out to kill. He'd never question such things out loud, though. Or admit to his confusion regarding the…Angel? Archangel? Devil…? Oh—whatever classification he considered himself now. Adam figured as long as he wasn't getting tortured, the status quo was best kept as it was.

"I don't really have anyone to message," he replied, remembering Lucifer's question after way too long a pause.

"Not even the Winchesters? They're your family, after all." Lucifer said it with little inflection, not at all as if he was intending mockery. But Lucifer knew he hated to be reminded of his blood ties to the brothers and how little such a tie had come to mean. Sometimes, Adam thought Lucifer missed Sam, and that was why he always brought them up when they were no longer a necessary topic of conversation.

"You know, very well, I wouldn't wanna talk to them, even if I could. They already know I'm down here. What else am I gonna say to 'em? 'Hey guys, it's your brother—you know, Adam? The guy you left in Hell? Yeah, remember him? That's me.' Nope—not at all interested in having that conversation. I was speaking in hypotheticals. Like, does social media work down here? Could we actually, like… set up a Facebook page or write a blog and call it "The Hell-Cage Experience? That would probably get a lot of page views even if nobody took it seriously."

"Yeah…I didn't understand half of what you said right there, but the computer should be capable of everything it was when it was on Earth. Of course, if you order something, we're obviously not getting it. I learned that lots of humans used that machine or ones like it to acquire food."

"Yeah." Adam brushed his hand through his hair, mentally shaking his head again at the added absurdity to this already mind-breaking situation. What was his life that he was having a casual conversation about computer usage with the Devil? In literal Hell? Adam needed to get over this. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

Music suddenly started playing from the computer for the first time since the device had appeared. Although Michael's human manifestation (an almost duplicate of himself with an added Angel aura) didn't jump or display any sign of startlement, the place where his wings would be visual when displayed distorted and, for a moment, the room became slightly breezy, portraying the Angelic version of the same thing.

Adam didn't recognize the song but could admit it was catchy. What was Michael even watching? He could admit to being a little jealous that he didn't have his own computer down here to whittle the time away—If Lucifer was going to insist on ignoring the laws of reality and physics by having a working computer down here, couldn't he have at least gotten them all one? Why was Lucifer even letting Michael hoard the thing in the first place if Lucifer had it brought here for himself? No way was he about to ask, though. Not for his own computer or about whatever his Angel companion was watching.

Lucifer had no such compunctions, of course. In fact, looking at that human face, which showed his emotions maybe a little too well, Adam would say the Devil looked a little too much like the cat that had captured the canary but wanted to play more with it before he ate it. Adam was instantly suspicious.

"Sooo…what's that you're looking at, Michael?" Lucifer asked, sounding almost like he already knew and just wanted to hear the answer aloud. The whole thing made the human nervous, and he wasn't even sure why.

Adam glanced back at Michael. He didn't seem horrified, angry, or any other emotion the human might've expected if some joke or prank had been pulled on him like he had every other time Lucifer had gotten the better of him while down here. In fact, if he had to guess based on familiarity with his own facial expressions, he would say Michael looked curious.

"It appears to be a live performance of the Winchester Gospel," Michael said. As if that simple sentence alone was self-explanatory.

"A live performance of…what?" Why were the Winchesters being mentioned again? And by Michael of all people. His Archangel roommate usually agreed with Adam that it was best they weren't discussed. The topic had negative connotations for them all. It only led to bad moods and tension.

Suddenly unable to hold back his own curiosity, Adam deduced that it was safe enough to leave his claimed corner of the cage to approach. It was only Michael, after all. He'd already spent a lot of time cuddled up within his wings. He'd felt what it was like to have that being inside him: for some moments, what it was like to share all thoughts and feelings with another without walls separating their personhood. There might as well be no more boundaries left between them to break.

Once he was practically on top of Michael—trying to get a good look at the screen he'd become affixed to—the Archangel, still perfectly attuned to him and his needs from their joining, moved the computer from his lap to in front of him and bundled him into the cleared space. Now, nothing stopped him from getting a good view of the computer. He was a lot more comfortable, too.

It only took him a couple of minutes to register what he was seeing. An 'understanding' of what he'd seen didn't end up following close behind.

There on the screen, clear as day, were Sam and Dean. At least he was pretty sure it was Sam and Dean. If not, these people were dead wringers, and…. wait, no…that was their Impala. It was definitely them.

"What the fuck am I even watching right now?"

"Weren't you listening? Michael said it was a live performance of the Winchester Gospel."

Adam jumped slightly at hearing Lucifer's voice suddenly coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed him move. He'd been too distracted by the video—whatever it was supposed to be. Michael rested his cheek on his forehead and held him tighter as if trying to offer comfort.

"Yes, I heard him," Adam answered, trying not to sound too smart or snappish (just because Lucifer had, so far, respected Michael's demand to leave him alone, that didn't mean he was going to push it by being purposefully rude) "I just don't know what you mean by Winchester Gospel. Do you mean the prophecy that said they were supposed to be your vessels for the Apocalypse? What does a…, um, TV show?—with them in it—have to do with that?"

"The Winchester Gospel isn't the prophecy, exactly. Not in the way that you're thinking, anyway. But I guess you could call it that since it was written by a prophet."

"Prophet?" That was the first he'd heard about them. Adam supposed he shouldn't be surprised that prophets were real, too, since it seemed pretty much every other imaginary thing had turned out to be.

"Prophets are humans born with the ability to read and understand God's word. The Winchester Gospel was the written version of the Winchester's story leading up to the Apocalypse. A prophet would have been able to see it himself for documentation purposes; think of a modern-age Bible with the brothers smack-dab at the center of it."

Adam tried to take in this information while being distracted by the scene of a horrified Sam screaming up at his girlfriend as she burned to death pinned to the ceiling.

Yikes.

He wasn't particularly fond of either Winchester right now, but they did get the shitty end of the stick, didn't they? The people around them, or in any way connected to them, seemed to die in rather gruesome ways.

"Wait," he said, realizing something. "If it's like a new-age Bible written by a human, does that mean it's available for anybody to read the same way the actual Bible is? And if it's about the Winchesters and the Apocalypse, we're all in it, too, right? Even me?"

"I am soooo glad you asked," Lucifer replied. It didn't escape Adam's notice that he sounded practically giddy. He moved to where Adam could see him, shooting him a wide smile (frightening) before he huddled beside them and took control of the computer.

Lucifer exited the TV show—which had continued on to another episode—with a casual, "We can watch the rest of that later," and typed something into the Google search bar. Seeming to find what he was looking for with a satisfied "ah, ha," Lucifer turned the computer back around. "See for yourself."

Adam had been briefly distracted by wondering why Michael hadn't fought for the computer when Lucifer grabbed it but focused again as soon as he processed what he was looking at.

"What on Earth? Are you fucking serious!?"

"Well, we're certainly not on Earth anymore…" Lucifer started, but Adam wasn't listening.

The website the Devil had switched to seemed to be some sorta fan-made page. The background was all black, the continuing image of pentagrams a recurring theme. There was a banner with a picture of the Impala in it and a stylized font spelling out the word 'Supernatural' over the top of it.

There appeared to be books for sale on the site with the same series title. Was this supposed to be the Winchester Gospel? These books looked like cheap drugstore romance-novel-trash… Much like the kind Adam's mother would buy and sneak into the cart and then hide under her mattress when they got home. They were one of the only splurges she made for herself. Kate Milligan never realized that her son snuck into her room when she wasn't home (often) to read those secret books. It was the closest sometimes Adam could get to porn before he'd had his own computer at home. These books couldn't be as important as the Bible: Not looking like this.

He reached out and scrolled over to an icon titled 'characters,' determined to answer his question on whether he was included in this trash.

Did he even want to be?

No, not really.

But the idea of being forgotten, not just by the people who'd claimed him as family but by the entire world, instilled a sudden existential dread.

It took scrolling through tons of names he didn't even recognize to finally find his own, and it was with a strange mixture of relief and trepidation that he clicked on it.

A page with a picture of himself and some general information popped up—which was weird enough, but he could get over it; he was most disturbed by the info section and its accuracy despite the brevity.

"Apparently, I'm only in about four episodes of this show and two books. But one of my main appearances doesn't count because it was a ghoul pretending to be me, and the other doesn't because it was Michael. That's bullshit!"

Adam wasn't even sure why he was mad. It's not like he wanted people to be able to watch his life unfold. As he continued to look through his character page, though, he couldn't help but feel robbed—or like he was being made a mockery of somehow.

"Yawn. This is getting boring now."

Lucifer took control of the computer back, and Adam let him, unsure where else to go and not sure he even wanted to see more. He had the sneaking suspicion that being bombarded with this crap had been Lucifer's intent all along and that he and Michael were just along for the ride. 'Why' Lucifer wanted to watch, read, or interact with any of this was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to watch himself, but Adam didn't think it would be fun to watch the events of their last year or so re-enacted when it was already such a misery experiencing them.

"It'd take forever to read through these books or watch the show. I'm sure none of us want to spend all our time staring at Sam and Dean's ugly mugs, no matter how limitless it currently is. Sooo…I say we check out some of this fan content first. Music videos, fanfiction, blogs, pairings: I don't even know some of these terms, but they all sound interesting. Humans come up with some of the most depraved—"

"Fanfiction!?" Adam practically yelped, interrupting what was sure to be another 'humans suck' rant from Lucifer he wasn't quite in the mood to withstand. Adam hadn't even given a thought to fanfiction. An old friend of his had been obsessed with Star Trek to near insanity and had introduced him to the concept by forcing him to read a story they'd written using the show's characters. Adam had learned a lot about his friend that day, and he'd never been able to watch an episode of Star Trek with a clean mind again. It had made his mother's erotica seem like child's play.

"Well, that's an interesting reaction," was all Lucifer had to say. Damn it! He should've controlled himself better. Adam could already see the cursor heading towards that 'cursed' word.

"Wait! You really don't want to…see any of that…" Adam trailed off, seeing Lucifer was no longer paying attention to him. Michael's eyes were still glued to the computer, and Adam wondered if he'd glanced away from it even once since it'd appeared down here.

"So 'fanfiction' is 'fan' stories written by fans about certain characters and events. I don't see the problem here. What wouldn't I want to see?"

"Weren't you just saying, 'Humans come up with some of the most depraved—' and so on? You telling me you can't imagine what could be terrible about stories possibly written about 'our' lives?"

Adam knew he shouldn't be saying this even as it came out of his mouth. It'd be smarter to let Lucifer think the topic is dull. Maybe part of him wanted Lucifer to suffer what he'd once had to endure. Then again, the Devil had a strange sense of humor. He was just as likely to find the whole thing amusing. What the fuck did Adam know? He'd almost suspect torturing him, and Michael, with fanfiction, was actually part of his motive here if it weren't for his seemingly ignorant confusion on the topic. If Adam had learned anything, it was that Lucifer was manipulative. But he never lied.

"Depraved?" Lucifer asked with new interest, his face inching closer to the screen.

Yeah.

He wasn't faking that.

Adam resigned himself to the inevitable and braced for impact. Being a minor 'character' might be his only saving grace here.

"I wouldn't get too excited. Don't say I didn't warn you when you find something you don't like," Adam warned. Lucifer getting pissed off would benefit none of them.

"Oh, I see. So, this is where pairings come into play. I wonder…"

Adam caught Lucifer's glance at him out of the corner of his eye and the following smirk. So much for that 'saving grace'. He was clearly Lucifer's first target.

"You were so upset about not having many appearances. About being the unimportant brother—the spare—even here."

"Brother—" Michael finally chipped in again, and Adam recognized his warning tone. Lucifer sure liked to kick below the belt and, not so surprisingly, play with fire.

Adam tried to control his face enough so his scowl wasn't obvious, but had a feeling he'd failed spectacularly. He snuggled further into Michael's arms—his only comfort down here—and felt his body relax when the Angel squeezed him even tighter.

Thankfully, Lucifer only rolled his eyes and mumbled what Adam was sure was 'so sensitive' before continuing with his clicking, undeterred.

"Well, look at that! Most of the 'fanfiction' here involves you and Michael in a sexual or romantic relationship. Wow, big brother! Never thought I'd see you degrade yourself this way. Even if it's only in a piece of fiction written by humans."

Michael's posture straightened, and he could almost imagine the look of contempt he'd be sending Lucifer even with his back to him. Adam rubbed the Angel's arm, attempting to return comfort and calm.

"Not that I can blame the humans for speculating about how you two act. You're way too soft on your vessel, Michael. You might as well glue him to your side and be done with it."

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it."

Lucifer hummed and continued messing with the computer.

"Here's an interesting summary: 'Michael has a boner but doesn't know what to do with it. Adam teaches him one of the pleasures of being human.'"

Adam cringes but isn't surprised. Yeah, that was to be expected. Adam supposed it also made sense that any fan-made material would focus on him in conjunction with Michael. He was the 'character' he'd interacted with the most. He'd literally been inside him (yes, he could grasp the erotic implications).

Adam snuck a look at Michael, relieved to see he looked more confused than angry. He thought about what he wanted to say.

"You realize you've probably been paired up with everybody at least once yourself, right? You're too important. You probably had plenty of 'screen time' or 'page-time,' or whatever the fuck we're going with here."

"And why should it bother me what humans write about me?"

"Well, as you've probably gathered, most of it is porn. Here, let me see the computer for a minute?"

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him but pushed it over. Adam was clearly being humored; he hoped he could find what he had in mind.

It was easier than it should've been to navigate the website. And it took less time than it should've to find something inflammatory.

"Look at this," Adam said, passing the computer back. Adam took a perverse amount of pleasure in the blank expression that came over Lucifer's face as he realized what he was reading. Adam might not agree with most of Lucifer's anti-human dogma. But he could get behind his belief in their depravity. The human imagination could be downright vile.

"Did you want to read the summary of that one out loud? Or maybe you'd like to check out the story itself." Adam hoped Lucifer didn't call his bluff and actually attempt to read what he'd found. Adam had no desire to hear such things and was sure Michael would find it equally traumatizing. It might even have Michael agreeing with Lucifer about humans being disgusting and all deserving to die. Now that he was thinking about it… showing Lucifer such a thing and daring to taunt him might not have been such a good idea.

"We're moving on to something else. There's nothing of value to see here," Lucifer growled. His hands were clenched, and his eyes glowed a burning red. If Lucifer had had laser vision, the computer would be a smoking, charred pile of unworkable parts.

Adam relaxed.

Lucifer was clearly pissed, but it wasn't at him.

"How about some videos, or… Oh, here's a fan song."

The look on Lucifer's face now scared Adam. More than the one he'd given the computer after reading the summary of the story that ‘must not be named or explained.'

A tune started up, and Adam frowned at the almost immediate mention of Sam and Dean. Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to be waiting for. Lucifer was watching him with what could only be anticipation. It was clearly an Apocalypse song, and he could only assume he'd be getting a mention. It was nearing the chorus when he heard the first hint of himself: a mention of the writers forgetting someone. He just knew that had to mean him.

And then he heard the actual chorus.

"We are never ever saving Adam ever!? Really?"

Someone had written an actual song about how forgettable he was. Sam and Dean's perspective added extra sting to already painful mockery. Was this all he was to anyone who knew his story? An unremarkable, unimportant joke.

It was one thing for Lucifer to tease him: Lucifer was just being Lucifer. And this was obviously his revenge for managing to make him uncomfortable. It was a separate issue to know his fellow humans could think so little of him when he'd only ever tried his best to be respectable. When he'd been willing to give his body over to do what he'd believed to be right. When he'd only wanted to see his mother and now might never be reunited with her again.

Lucifer smiled at his reaction. But Michael, who'd always been so unnaturally attuned to his emotional state, straightened up. He flared his wings in a way that made his presence seem towering and finally put in his two cents.

"While I'm not averse to studying the Gospel—as it may have answers to our current predicament and shine a light on what has been happening among the host since I have been gone—I have to protest this obvious targeting of Adam for your sick entertainment. I've told you time again that my vessel is off limits."

"And you haven't seen me lay a finger on him. Have you?" Lucifer sneered. Adam wondered if this would escalate into another 'bitch-fight-argument.' (Man, was he glad Michael wasn't currently paying attention to his thoughts.) Experiencing more of this Winchester-based crap didn't appeal to him in the slightest: Not with how he'd been depicted. He wasn't much in the mood for listening to them go back and forth, either, for however long they'd decide to have a go.

"Can't we just decide on something that won't make any of us angry? Maybe get started on that learning Michael mentioned. Because he had a point, you know? There's a good chance we could learn about what's been happening while we've been down here. It hardly benefits us to be uninformed."

Some of Michael's tenseness relaxed, and a slight breeze from his wings told Adam they'd also been put away. Adam turned to look at Lucifer again.

"We could get info on what's been happening in Hell too." Adam's careful not to say what he's actually thinking: that Lucifer could see Sam again and learn how he's doing. Lucifer's obsession was one best not spoken of; he'd deny it anyway.

Both Angels agreed with Adam with only a little grumbling and a couple murmured insults from Lucifer that Adam pretended not to hear. Lucifer was just upset they'd managed to ruin his fun.

Now that they had a plan, they just needed to put it into motion. Adam reached towards the computer again slowly, wondering if Lucifer would put up a fight about handing it over, but he shoved it at him instantly. Adam guessed Lucifer didn't want to have to put in the work if he couldn't fuck with them anymore. Adam wasn't about to complain.

Adam settled the computer into a position far enough from him so Lucifer could still see the screen. It'd been paused on the YouTube video for the song he'd been so hurt by. With a quick type of 'Supernatural mvs' in the search bar, it directed him to other options. Lots of options! Man, this show was popular. He hardly knew where to start.

Adam clicked on a couple random vids but got nothing out of them beyond further confirmation of Sam and Dean's life sucking, their codependent relationship, and the strange homoerotic tension between Castiel and Dean which the fans not only noticed but seemingly loved.

"Well, those weren't very helpful. Why don't we look up some videos focusing on the Angels."

Adam did so, and this time hit paydirt. These videos focused a lot more on the Angels and what they'd been up to. Some of it was hard for him to follow without the context, but he was focusing on trying to absorb everything until—

"You killed Gabriel?" Michael didn't yell, but his voice seemed to boom and almost shake the cage from being so powerful. The grip Michael still had around him was equally strong. Adam was grateful he couldn't actually die down here. And that he didn't need to breathe. Otherwise, the hold would have already suffocated him. Adam tried to pay attention to what Michael was actually saying.

Gabriel?

Right, Gabriel.

Apparently, Lucifer had killed him.

The video was still going, but nobody was paying it any mind. He reached a hand out to pause it, trying not to attract the attention of either of them. Michael was angrier than Adam had ever seen him. Adam trusted Michael to not want to hurt him, but that didn't mean he couldn't end up collateral damage. His ribs could attest to that.

Would this be the inciting incident? The thing to finally turn them to violence? Adam supposed Lucifer's response might be the determining factor.

Lucifer looked surprised. Adam wondered if he'd forgotten that he'd killed Gabriel or if he simply assumed nobody would ever find out.

"It wasn't Gabriel's place to interfere. He helped Sam and Dean get away, kept waving his Angel Blade around in my face, and seemed very protective of the humans, above all else. He'd clearly been down on Earth too long and became too accustomed to their ways. What else would you have had me do?"

"Maybe not kill your brother. You were always Gabriel's favorite: The only one to enjoy his pranks. The only one who could understand his jokes. You taught him to fly. Even during our fights, he never once took sides. He had to know you were in the wrong, but his love and worship for you prevented him from ever truly standing against you. Were you truly incapable of subduing him long enough for you to get away? You couldn't appeal to him… or talk him down—someone who once loved you that much?"

Lucifer, for once, appeared lost for words. (Talk about family drama. And he thought his issues with his own were bad.) Adam suddenly had a lot of questions he'd never thought to ask: What happened to an Angel when they died? Did they stop existing? Did they have their own afterlife? Was it better than here? He supposed it had to be.

There was still no answer from Lucifer. Adam knew better than to dare ask any of his questions now. His mouth would stay firmly shut while letting them sort this out. No way was he getting in the middle of this.

"Your silence might as well be an admission of guilt." Michael was trying his best to sound all-commanding and unemotional. The bond between him and Adam that let Michael perceive what he was feeling, however, worked both ways. Right now, he was feeling a grief Adam hadn't yet felt from him before. Not even their fall into the cage had elicited such an emotional response; he'd mostly just been angry then.

"Like you're squeaky clean being Dad's loyal soldier. You'd have killed him yourself if it'd been an order from God. Just like you threw me down here on his orders. You're the last person who'd have any right to lecture me on betrayal: on family loyalty." Lucifer sneered again as he practically spat the words.

Michael glowered and shot right back: "Your actions led to me striking you down—not just God. If you'd just listened—"

"—Here we go again: 'If you'd only just listened and followed orders like every other Angel, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. If you'd only just listened and been a good puppet soldier, none of this would've happened,'" Lucifer mocked with a roll of his eyes. "Don't take any accountability for your own mistakes. The 'Great and Powerful Archangel Michael' doesn't make mistakes. He's just Daddy's perfect boy. Well, it doesn't seem like he's coming down here to rescue you, does it? God has abandoned you too! Despite your enduring loyalty and stupidity."

"Faith is not stupid," Michael retorted. "And must you insist on talking poorly of our father?"

"He's the reason we're both down here, Mikey. The reason we're all down here. Apparently, he doesn't care about your vessel, either—despite insisting we prioritize these humans above all else. What excuse can you even give for that, huh? Are we meant to believe that he just… what? Didn't notice our Apocalypse: Didn't notice one of his Archangels dying and another falling into the cage? 'He who supposedly sees all'? What's more likely? That he hasn't realized or doesn't care? About any of us."

Adam didn't much appreciate being brought up in this conversation, especially when said conversation was a reminder that nobody seemed to care that he was here (aka: In Hell). Secretly, though, while he'd never tell Michael, he agreed somewhat with Lucifer; God didn't seem invested in any of them. One of the things that had brought him closer to Michael—that had made him sympathetic—had been his…well, 'toxic' relationship with his father. Even easier to empathize with was Lucifer's hatred towards that same father due to a disillusionment Michael had yet to overcome.

"We're down here to pay penance," Michael shot back in defense. "Father is hardly going to reward failure."

"Well, he certainly doesn't reward loyalty. What's your human paying penance for? What did he theoretically do wrong in this scenario? He was just doing what he thought was right, wasn't he? Doing what you and the other Angels told him to?"

Michael seemed to struggle with this, and Adam tried peaking up at him to see if he could catch his expression. Adam was curious what excuse he'd come up with for this one, if any; he wouldn't even be mad at the insinuation that Adam could've done something deserving of spending an eternity down here when he'd managed to make it into Heaven before.

Michael's arms clenched around him again, but softer this time and without the anger. Adam didn't manage to get anything from his expression (Adam admitted to stupidity in hindsight; Michael's face was hardly a display of emotion, and there was no reason for this time to be any different), but Michael let out an almost audible sigh. His Archangel's emotions, unlike the rest of him, were anything but tame. Adam could feel the conflict and confusion as strongly as if they were his own.

Lucifer seemed to grasp from Michael's sudden silence that he'd scored his first point in this back-and-forth because he smirked, suddenly confident from this small but important victory. At any other time, Adam might have been amused and grateful that Lucifer was getting through to Michael on the whole 'God issue.' Right now, though, Lucifer trying to use this to distract from him having killed their brother and then throwing Adam into the argument made Adam furious.

'Screw it,' Adam thought, 'I'm done shutting up.'

"Look, obviously, none of us are having the time of our lives down here, but it doesn't really do to dwell on the whys and hows. We have to make the best of our situation while still being ready to take any chances that turn up to get out of here. This, right here—" Adam shook the laptop to remind them both that it was there. "—this is the closest we've gotten; the only information we have available."

Lucifer stared at him. He could sense he had Michael's attention as well.

"Michael's got a right to be mad. His brother's dead, and he's only just found out. Lucifer, you have a right to be mad too. About being stuck here again, I mean. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on Michael since it wasn't even his fault this time. You told me, yourself, that fighting down here's pointless, so maybe stop trying to instigate one." Adam glared at Lucifer, trying to look braver than he actually felt. "And stop using me to antagonize Michael. It's hardly very creative of you."

"Your vessel's got bite, Michael. Real Winchester trait."

"Milligan," Adam corrected in further irritation. "Can we please just—" Adam shook the computer again in frustration. "We were really getting somewhere. Do you two wanna keep fighting about something neither of you can do anything about, or do you want to get educated? Cause I'm telling you, right now, if it turns out there was some way outta here we didn't know about that this did and we miss it, I'll find a way to make the both of you regret it…" Adam took another look at the both of them as they stared at him—Lucifer with an arched brow and Michael curiously—and felt his temporary bravery abandon him.

"…somehow," he muttered in a much weaker, lower voice.

For some reason, his outburst seemed to kick the two of them into gear. Michael suddenly arranged the laptop and the both of them so he had better access to the controls while still having a firm grip on him. Adam wondered if it was a good idea for Michael to be in charge—given his previous immersion (more like obsession) with said computer—but Adam figured he'd already said his piece. For now, he just wanted to feel like he was accomplishing something.

Neither Lucifer nor Michael apologized, but Adam assumed by their behavior that it was implied. Lucifer, at least, would never lower himself enough to do so—and Adam knew Michael would never do it in front of Lucifer, who'd no doubt use it as an excuse for further mockery.

Sometimes, seeing the devastation that was their relationship made him happy about never being able to build anything real with his own brothers. If having siblings caused one this much pain and drama, maybe he was better off without them.

Michael continued with the video route since they'd already proven useful. (And Adam's heart did ache for Michael about the Gabriel situation. Of all the stories Michael had told Adam of Heaven, the ones involving the trickster Angel had been his favorite.)

These videos involved more Angel drama: Drama that Adam still lacked some context to entirely understand. He could tell it was bad, though. And not just from the tenseness and feelings Michael was projecting from their bond.

"Raphael is dead too," was Michael's next despondent comment. The hurt practically emanated from him at this point—a dark rolling cloud of misery over his usual sunny brightness.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for that one. I think Castiel might have single-handedly done more damage in these videos than I managed during our entire apocalypse escapade. I'd be in awe if it weren't so insulting." Lucifer certainly didn't look amused.

"Much as I hate to agree with you, there is something seriously wrong with that Angel. He seems incapable of following orders or respecting authority. There's no need to make light of our prophesized battle by referring to it as an escapade, though, Lucifer."

"Sure. Disrespect of authority. That's the problem." Lucifer's eyes rolled back so far in his head that Adam feared they'd get stuck that way. His sarcasm was so thick Adam could drown in it.

The videos kept going and kept getting progressively worse.

"At this point, the question we should be asking is if there are any angels left. Also…what's so special about Castiel that his death never seems to stick."

Neither Michael nor Lucifer appeared to like the implications. They both had to know the most likely reason for Castiel's constant revivals was God's favor. How Castiel could have earned said favor without trying when even Lucifer and Michael's fanatical bids to garner attention had resulted in radio silence, Adam didn't know. It just left the increasing impression of God being that crappy, absentee father Lucifer had painted him as, whether Michael was able to admit to it yet or not.

Purgatory, Soulless Sam, The Trials, The Angels Falling, The Mark of Cain, The Darkness: The hits never stopped. And…wait, was that supposed to be God? The guy writing the Winchester gospel and pretending to be a Prophet? What? When Michael and Lucifer said nothing, Adam decided to do the same. They either hadn't reached the same conclusion (noticed) or didn't want to discuss it and were ignoring it. Adam could get behind that.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this—feel free to slap me if I'm being ridiculous, 'cause I'm probably way out of line here—but…do you think maybe…we might actually be safer down here? Everyone up there seems to be cursed or something."

Apropos of nothing, without the slightest warning, Lucifer disappeared.

Adam stared at the now empty space. Gone. Just like that. Adam tensed and grasped onto Michael's arm around him, worried he or Michael might be next. Michael held on just as tight, also wary. Only after a few minutes of neither of them going anywhere did he lower his guard.

"Was it something I said?" Adam asked, suddenly feeling the need to whisper. "Did I jinx it?"

"Of course not. Lucifer must have been summoned."

"Who would or could summon Lucifer out of the cage?" He asked, then almost knocked himself out from the force of his own palm meeting face at his stupidity.

"Winchesters," both Adam and Michael ended up saying simultaneously.

"But why?" Adam asked.

"They must need an Archangel for something." And, boy, was Michael mad; the increased thunder and lightning noises from outside the cage evidence (representation) of his vast displeasure.

"They needed an Archangel, and they chose Lucifer?" That was dubious. Lucifer might help—especially if Sam was doing the asking—but he'd hardly do it for free. God knows what other mischief he'd get into while up there.

Given how they'd just been talking about a curse, there was also a good chance Lucifer would be killed. Adam felt weird thinking about it. Lucifer drove him crazy, and he was hardly a pinnacle of moral righteousness. But Adam would miss him. Adam had gotten used to thinking of Michael and Lucifer as his eternal companions. Now, one of them was gone. He couldn't help but grip Michael harder again, still slightly scared that he'd vanish, too, and Adam would be alone. That would be the end of his sanity right then.

"If the darkness destroyed the world…or whatever it is she does, would it affect us, too? Could Lucifer even defeat it?"

"Everything would be affected. The last time the darkness had to be shut away, it took the combined power of God and all four of his Archangels. Even then, it was still difficult and resulted in grievous injuries. I don't see how it could be accomplished unless God has returned to fight and decides to bring us all back."

Michael didn't even look hopeful while saying it, proof this new information and situation had him out of sorts. Adam just had to hope that if Michael was summoned, Adam would be taken as well. The Angel would still need a vessel, after all. Adam doubted Dean had suddenly changed his views on possession. Adam could also admit to jealousy at the idea of Dean taking his place in this instance. Dean hadn't wanted to be Michael's vessel, but Adam had been filling that role for so long now he no longer knew any other way to be.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

"There's nothing we can do," Michael admitted reluctantly. Adam knew Michael hated feeling helpless and not being able to do anything. Michael hadn't known a day of idleness until he found himself here. Adam had promised himself if they ever escaped, he'd insist on a vacation. They both deserved one, and there were so many places Adam had never gotten to see while alive that he thought Michael might get some pleasure from now.

"We should be on our guard, though, I'm guessing?"

Michael nodded against his back.

For a moment, Adam wanted to say, 'screw this,' and hide again in his angel companion's wings as he had so long ago. To forget everything and make that feathery embrace his entire world. It was strange, almost, how that seemed like a simpler time. It certainly hadn't seemed simple at the time.

"You just wanna watch some more of this Supernatural crap? It won't take our mind off anything, but I'm sure there's still much to learn. Why don't we look up some videos about ourselves? I'm sure we must have at least a few. Oh, and your brothers! We could find some about them too. See what they'd been up to before…well, just before. I hope this computer doesn't run out of power. Now that I'm thinking about it, it already should've run out if it was going to. You'd been messing with it for days before we'd even commented. I'm not even going to ask what had you so engrossed." Adam knew he was babbling but also knew Michael wouldn't mind. He'd told Adam before that he liked knowing what Adam was thinking but had difficulty figuring it out.

Adam rearranged himself again until he was comfy and brought YouTube back up. He was determined not to think about their imminent demise, the possibility of Michael disappearing, Lucifer being dead, or the Winchesters (despite them being prominent in everything and, therefore, impossible to ignore).

No.

None of those things existed right now. Adam and Michael were watching fiction. Pieces of a TV show. It had nothing to do with their lives at all. If he thought of it that way…maybe it would make these viewings easier to bear? Put less of a strain on his heart and his mind.

Adam took a deep breath, ready to start the next set of videos.

"You ready?" He asked Michael.

"It's only pragmatic to learn all we can. You said something similar yourself."

"Okay, what have I said about using my own words against me?"

"To not do so. Though I'm slightly confused about whose I should be using if not yours."

Adam sighed and shook his head.

Angels.

Hopeless.

All of them.

"Let's just get watching."